PRIDE HUNT
— THE PREY —

Rolled Prey: Medium; Addax
Number of Prey Animals: 1
Prompt: An Addax has become entrenched within a mud puddle within the Mire.
Results Will Be Rolled On: 09 April 23 (EST)

Only marked pride lions count. Please include your character's age and any trade bonuses at the top of their post. Failure to provide this info will result in your character not counting towards the hunt roll.

7 years old, no bonus

The air has become crisper, colder even. It catches in her lungs and sends a shiver down her speckled spine. Winter was fast approaching.

The swamp floor had not yet fully hardened and the mud pits spotted about Ecrosia were as ever, a deadly trap for those caught within. Sláine's ears pricked to the sound of struggle, bleats of desperation passing through the jungle for any and all to hear. The queen circled in, moving sideways behind a bush and tree, just out of the Addax's eyeline. Sapphire eyes fell upon the creature, feeling pity at it's unfortunate fate. But pity does not feed a pride's many hungry bellies.

She slipped forward, crouching low and chuffing out to her pride mates over the ever loudening cries of the quickly exhausting prey.

ART BY KIM, CODE BY LARS

5 years, no bonus

+5 Participate in a hunt using the rolled hunt system
+5 Patrol your borders

Markus had been patrolling the borders when the call from @Sláine had echoed through the Mire. The Rike did not know much about the Ecrosian Queen, but he was quite happy to heed her call, and so the colossal man continues to patrol the borders, adjusting his route ever-so-slightly so that his destination would be the clearing where she had called from.

The thorn-dressed borders seemed to be in-tact with no suspicious scents, so Markus dips into the heart of the territory to join the Sovereign, only to see an addax that had wandered into their home, becoming entrenched in a mud puddle. What a shame! Markus comes up alongside Sláine and awaits further instructions.

^{ART BY ALE-TIE, CODE BY CALA}

may the beauty of the

fading twilight not be outshined by the rage of the scorned embers of the bleeding dawn

( 8 Years. Lvl 5 Ranger. +1 dice to hunt rolls. -1 dodge roll for prey. Gives every lion in the hunt a +1 to hit rolls. Counts as two lions in every hunt & Specializes in hunting African Donkey and auto-success a hunt with it as prey. )

Having been out and about exploring the mire to see if there was any good hunting spots within its muck and murk she heard its call. Its desperate pitiful cries echoed in her ears. Marking her way towards the prey the huntress wasn’t the first to arrive as someone chuffed calling for a hunting party. Arriving she looked at the blue lioness and gave a nod before looking at the lion and giving him one as well. "Arjana Huntsong." She said softly to both as she settled into place. Grey gaze turned to the poor trapped beast and honestly she wondered if anymore than who they had already gathered would be overkill for it. Surely the three of them could handle this prey. She was confident she could take it down herself even. Still she’d play nice and wait for the signal.

code by corvus & art by hinter

1Y | No bonus

Hagen had not hunted before. He had just surpassed being a year old now and was finally stacking out build wise to be of some use. The wheat lion picked his way through the Mire with a tinge of curiosity at the idea of participating. So the young Rike appeared from the shadowy depths of the territory to spy an Addax - a white horned prey animal who had become prey to the mire’s waters. He joined them, still a little off to the side where he can observe for anyone else as well as be ready to do what was asked of him.

coded by flea + background credit

7 years, Master Ranger (+1 to Hunt Rolls, -1 to Prey Dodge, +1 to Everyone's Hunt Rolls, Counts as 2 lions)

There is a familiar bite in the air, the chill of winter growing to be less of a premonition on the wind and more of a harsh truth of reality. It cuts through Myra's short fur, but there is a part of her that welcomes it for the way it hardens the soft ground beneath her paws, easing her movement through the swampy paths she's come to know so well.

Yet the frost is not entirely worthy of trust, not yet. Myra knows that, but it seems there are heavier, cloven-footed beasts that must learn the lesson the hard way. It's Slaine's call that draws the huntress's paws away from their route to the borders, but it's the familiar, thrashing sounds of prey caught in the Mire's trap that sharpens her focus, the ragged ends of her still-newly torn ear twitching towards the addax's cries, even though the strain of movement upon the delicate flesh makes her grit her teeth in irritation.

One day...

Well, if she cannot tear apart Aquila, she'll just have to make do with silencing their prey instead, easy as it may be. She stalks her way into the group with a low rumble of greeting, reptilian eyes catching briefly upon Arjana's vaguely familiar features as she came up alongside the orangey woman, settling into a low crouch.

ART COPYRIGHT RIOT / CODE COPYRIGHT ANALESE

2 years, no bonus

There is a lovely type of peace that can be found, if one allows themselves to search for it. When Hadiya sits along the sandier outskirts of the territory, eyelids shut against the soft haze of light that can still penetrate her flawed vision and dark-rimmed ears perked to hear the steady push and pull of the waves, she sometimes finds a odd, wondrous feeling of suspension within herself, as if she is more than just her own flesh and blood, as if she can truly imagine herself connected to the sand, the wind, to the very cosmos itself. What might she find, if she tugs at the great tapestry's threads?

Weightless and timeless are these moments. And yet, they can be so easily shattered, the plaintive wails of some antelope-type creature ringing past the trees to drag Hadiya back into the real world. As much as she ever exists within it, anyway.

Hunting has never been much of a personal interest of hers, nor would most deem it to be within her capabilities. Even so, Hadi wanders towards the noise today, curious. Maybe a bit hopeful that the racket would stop. The sound of heavy splashing and flailing becomes more apparent the closer she grows. It's trapped, then? Vulnerable to the Mire's lions that have come to silence it. A sign perhaps? Perhaps Ecrosia would fare well this coming winter.

"النجوم أعلاه ، تسمح لمخالبها بالضرب الحقيقي. دع مصير هذه الهدية يقرر ما إذا كان هذا الشتاء سيكون شتاء بركات أو مصاعب." She murmurs lowly, voice rhythmic even if the way she cloaks herself in the dense brush screams of awkwardness and inexperience. She can keep it from escaping, perhaps. If such an outcome is meant to be.

+10 Cast a blessing on a group
+5 Meditate or pray on your own or with someone else
+5 Participate in a hunt using the rolled hunt system

ART COPYRIGHT ERA / CODE COPYRIGHT ANALESE

Age: 5 Bonus: Nope

Her softly carved face was stern, carved from marble and left there for the ages. She was always one of purpose. At least in public. And she knew never to show mercy for the weak, lest she be accused of tender-hearted weakness. She scarcely knew the others, save for the queen, and did not count either of them worthy of each other's company. There were cries of prey and Sarsaparilla would rather let her quiet and potential deadly threat show itself.

Toes spread wide as she churned them in mud, dampening the scent between her toes. She also rubbed muddy paws at the corners of her mouth and suppressed the urge to rub her non-scent on everything. She advanced, quiet, aiming to circle around rather than join with the cluster of others. Taking to the shadows, taking the shadows, trying to approach nearer to the prey without startling it. She kept her tail up, though, so the others would see where she was positioned.

+5 Participate in a hunt using the rolled hunt system
+5 Practice speed or stealth
+5 Practice covering your scent

Age: 3 Bonus: Nope

"You know we could just... wait for it to die." She whispered just because it seemed to be the Thing To Do, but overall the pink menace was unimpressed with the serious display of hunting prowess being shown and deliberately slouched in at a slow pace. She could say she was moving slowly because she was... sneaking! Yeah! But that thing wasn't going anywhere. She looked at it completely unimpressed. Just to re-iterate, Toblerone was completely too good for this gathering, and wrinkled her nose as she half-sat to rest with her fluffy thighs uncomfortably plopped above the muck. "What if... we all get in its face and scream? And it can die of fright? Quick and clean." Somehow she thought that if Alva was still around and queen then she'd be a proper princess and not have to do any of this shit. She resented it. Just the sentiment that she might have to lift a toe to motivate someone? Horrible.

+5 Engage in mischief
+5 Slack off or shirk one's responsibilities
+5 Participate in a hunt using the rolled hunt system

(1/2) +5 Practice hiding your scent
(1/2) +5 Participate in a hunt using the rolled hunt system
1 yr, no bonus, pride tier 5
As per usual, Vulferam doesn't feel like helping but forces himself to do so, anyways. He didn't want his father's image of him to be nothing but a gluttonous boy, and so the Prince knew he would have to put in some elbow grease every now and then to make himself look presentable. He had caught the sounds of something playing in a puddle, and the curious creature he was he decided to stalk toward it. He kept himself low, melanistic form finding the shadows of trees and bushes, rubbing along them while he stalked to help cover up some of his scent. Coal eyes landed on the addax, it's light coat now dirtied by stomping in mud water. What interested himself the most (aside from getting a full belly) was the horns. He made a mental note to take one for himself, even if that meant he had to fight for one.

_{BG — ART — CODE}