This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCE BY STRANGULATION

— Continuation —
Ah, how sweet the release of death was. The imp was comfortably numb in the darkness, where she was hopelessly lost yet whole, and without any pain or worry. Her only issue was how fucking empty it was. There was no noise, no activity, no anything.

No sooner than she’d perceived the abyss, the darkness heaved in utter repulse. She could sense it — the violation. And there was the culprit now: a slow, hushed thud that echoed through the once seemingly impenetrable void. The shadows rippled and shrank away — something she could not immediately see, yet could feel. She was relieved of a pressure she’d not been aware of, its gravity weakened by every strengthening thump that drove the void back into some deeper, darker hole beyond her view.

Beyond her view …

Léonie blinked suddenly in the receding void, her vision lowering to the ground. It was impossibly gloomy, yet she could see — and touch! — black sand beneath her paws. Her shadow stretched out before her, barely visible across— what was that? There, in what she’d thought was nothing, was the shimmer of water. She instinctively swallowed, wincing over the soreness that she must’ve forgotten about between then and now — whatever then had been.

Confused, the imp squinted, overlooking the pain as the darkness dwindled away to reveal … date trees, which she blinked at.

Date trees, water—

Realization struck her like a blinding light and Léonie Miroslav, once dead to the world, woke suddenly with wild laughter in her chest.

AW/open to any AO members!
@Sedona @Vághan @Lucanus @Valerian

artwork • coding

Septima knew there were shenanigans happening outside of the territory. She had been rather pleased with herself that thus far, she had mostly stayed out of it and only needed to repair the wounded as they returned home. No one had ever been seriously injured, but she supposed there was always a first time for everything. The Oasis was awash in the scent of blood - and her sister - and the lioness immediately shifted into high alert. It wasn't until she heard the bark of laughter that Septima grew seriously concerned because no one in their right mind would be cackling drenched in blood. Right? Nah, no, that had Leonie written all over it. She picked up a brisk trot and circled the Oasis until she spotted the form of her sister, but in what condition she wasn't entirely.. sure. "Lele? What the hell happened?" Didn't matter, she supposed. Septima needed to get there to make sure her baby sister was okay, so she rushed to the girl's side and immediately began assessing for the worst of the damage. intended xp: +10 Set a broken bone +10 Heal a character’s sickness or injury +5 Give someone advice

The journey was hell. Moments blurred together as pure adrenaline commanded Sedona in what she did, taking turns pressing away what blood she could when she was not trying to assist in carrying Léonie's fallen form. Her cheeks were stained and sticky with tears she did not remember shedding, her paws aching and raw from sheer, careless friction against the sands. It felt like an eternity that they had been shuffling and stumbling through Amaryllis, desperate to get the lioness back to the only home where she truly belonged – as if the oasis could cure her, somehow.

Perhaps it was good for the princess that she was not conscious for it. Sedona had long ago confirmed that something within her was broken – a lion did not snap for nothing. The jostling of a broken bone aside, in the moments when Léonie's breathing began to shallow, the medic had no choice but to strike her across the face.

No morirás, Léonie Miroslav.
You will not die.

When finally they laid her body out by the oasis, Sedona did not have time to linger at her side. She rushed at a stumbling pace to flee for her garden, her eyes wide and crazed as she grabbed up everything she could think of. By the time she returned, Septima's familiar figure was already there – but, who was laughing? She let out an unconscious snarl as she dropped her supplies there beside the lioness, narrowing her gaze with anger that refused to burn out.

"A mire lion did this," she revealed lowly, wasting no time. Already her paws were roving over that striped pelt, searching for problem areas that would need the quickest mending. "Something broke. It will need to be set," Sedona explained quickly. She reached out a paw to pry open Léonie's jaws, dropping a potent mix of seeds from her mouth to that of the Miroslav and then forcing her teeth closed again.

"The sooner the better," she insisted, beginning to press moss against her seeping wounds once more. "She's lost a lot of blood. I just..." Sedona trailed off as she continued her work, flattening her ears tightly against her crown. It was not a thought she cared to finish.

---

|| november y9 | two years | vague AO | at andal oasis | @Léonie @Septima @Vághan @Scorpius @Lucanus @Valerian ||
+20 - Save a character's life through healing
+20 - Successfully heal a wounded roll using the healing system
+10 - Heal a character’s sickness or injury

image by moogle/code by saph

With a jolt, the eyes of the broken answered as they were soon unveiled and re-veiled from the blinding light that cast upon his tired face. Pins and needles crawled at his limbs, slightly paralyzing him in place as she lay against the ridden floors of crisp yellowed sands. Each follicle presses harshly unto the ornate wounds that adorn pallid flesh - a martyr to a cause so selfish and undefined within the eyes of death itself. The ever-insistent buzz that trilled within the corners of his mind was mirrored there shortly after by the crackling sounds of insistent and heaving breaths that gurgled to life from within the bronze babe's bosom serving as a sharp reminder of just how real these circumstances were.

And even as she had slipped from their frames unto the sabulous dip of the Earth's crater, he still finds himself holding his breath. Strangled, and heavy. It catches in the corners of the reaper's throat and refuses to fall. Instead - it remains stagnant. Punched through constricted lungs in long drags throughout inky nostrils that flare with the heavy stench of cobalt; a smell that had once been inviting. Beckoning, and sinfully delicious in the eyes of an unrestrained killer - but now, something that produces nothing but gurgling bile in the pits of his stomach. Vághan does not even dare to cleanse his pallet of the stench - almost afraid that if he were to taste it, everything would fall apart in an untimely death.

He does not care for borders at this time, nor for the capital punishment that should arise in his discovery. For when the rapt laughter, maniacal, depraved - broken shatters through the thinly pulled veil he breaks. Lips curling downwards into a disconsolate smile as a quiet mutter press through pursed lips Még mindig a halállal szemben nevetsz. Ez nekem van fenntartva, tudod. - shuffling uncomfortably to the sides as the women begin their work. He had done his part. Now it was time for them to do theirs.

But even as they work, it does not make him invisible, nor void from their conversations. The starkness within his blinded gaze pins the women with a gruff and displeased observation - not for what they do but rather for what they say. Starke. A rumble of thunder presses throughout smoke-tinged lungs as the beast offers up a hand of consideration - information. She will be well. A cut-off, a daring borage of false hope that he ensues to calm the raging seas within them all. If only words could do so much healing as they could hurt.

I served amongst his ranks for a year There is hesitance as the inky splatters amongst the tattering of their parchment paper, uneasy eyes pooling with wariness as he registers just how far inland they have come. But - I do not know the man that attacked her. It was true, he'd never seen the beast in his life. Not this one, nor a past. I do know the man who commands him though. They are selfish. Brash. Unforgiving. Starke takes and does not care for consequences as he has devils to do his bidding. Just as I was. I know his land. A bated breath, His Queen. What drives him mad in the dead of night - where he is weak. Not in every aspect, but he knew. He knew of the Rike woman - knew of the salvaged piece of blood that remained in her name and just how harshly the death had come upon them. It is as if yesterday had provided their meeting within the shadows as if he had been given a name in the leeway of promised violence.

And perhaps, this is penance for all that they shared - all that he lacked. A fragile wall to be torn down within the unsuspecting guise of Troy's wooden horse.

---

_{1 - You still laugh in the face of death. That's reserved for me, you know.}

@Septima @Léonie @Sedona @Scorpius @Lucanus @Valerian

code / art

A controlled, silent storm comes upon the scene, broiling rage underneath a smooth surface. He’d picked up the scent of blood and @Léonie, and then Sedona, and his pace had turned from light into a gallop in the blink of an eye. His sister's crumpled form is the first thing he sees, then @Septima and @Seonda around her - and then an unknown male too close to his wife and siblings. The king’s lips part, bearing yellowing teeth, in an ugly snarl. Yet he does not interrupt, for the stranger is speaking of the beast responsible for this - for hurting his sister.

Scorpius’s gaze trails worriedly across Leonie’s form, lingering on the fur at her throat, the wheezing breaths she takes. He does not shove closer, he does not dare touch her. As much as it pains him, Septima and Sedona are the ones who can truly help her. He would just get in the way.

Scorpius shifts away, coming to stand before @Vághan.

"Alaric’s pride did this?" He asks, his voice a deadly sort of soft. One that betrays anger without any heat. "He fucks married women. Of course he’s selfish." Had this been retaliation for his assistance against the Mire in the passage? Was it a warning, or a threat? Whatever the message, Scorpius already has his answer.

"Tell me of the one that did this. Tell me exactly what he looked like."

All the blood that we're bleeding

Could fill up a broken heart

code by corvus; image by yumpy

“Bb— ”

The sound was slurred and wet from the blood that trickled through her smiling, reddened mouth. Dazed, seemingly unaware of her companion’s concerned conversation, Léonie wheezed and laughed — and wheezed again.

“Bb— ” she tried again, eyes glazed and unfocused below heavy lids that she struggled to keep open. Her striped sides heaved under the paws that stroked over her, making her skin instinctively twitch, yet she made no move to pull away.

Slowly — stubbornly — the imp pushed herself onto her belly, propped on an elbow. The movement caused her to wince, but the tired smile quickly found its way back and she rested there, laughing. Panting. “Ha, haa- ha, bb— ”

Then, finally …

“Bb- biiisssttch.”

That fuckin’ BITCH from the Mire had failed. He’d tried to kill her and he had failed failed FAILED, and in her manic giddiness over having not only survived but also in thinking of how annoyed he’d be once he found out, Léonie could only giggle. Oh, how she looked forward to bumping into that ambulatory turd again and rubbing it in his face: heheheh, nice try, LOSER!

Alas, her expression soon shifted.

Grimacing, Leonie’s pained eyes finally blinked shut and as she slipped back under, she went face-first into the sand.

Exit, unconscious

artwork • coding

Lucanus stood a still, silent sentinel. There were two healers working on the battered lioness; one lion spouting key information. And he just stood there, taking up oxygen, useless, full of unspent anger. Just as he thought to seek out @Scorpius, the king was there, rolling in like thunder. The young Savante listened, tight-lipped, storing away what he could. His eyes flicked back and forth between the women and men, looking for any clear directive or need, any reason why he was still here.

With one last burbling curse, @Léonie went under, and now Luc's eyes were fastened on her alone. He'd not interrupt the bone-setting and wound tending, but watched for any sign that they'd need yet another set of paws to help. And for lack of that, he'd study the work of their paws studiously. He'd always considered himself a battlefield medic; it would be good for him to take the work of other, more skilled healers.

Leonie never manages to get an explanation out. Or, she does, but it makes absolutely no goddamn sense and Septima fears there's a concussion among the other wounds littering her body. She's just about to fetch her own healing supplies when @Sedona arrives, instructing her on what to do. Despite her calm demeanor, Septima is angry. She doesn't know how well Sedona can heal but she does know how well she can heal and it feels insulting to have someone else tell her what needs to be done. There's half a moment where she even thinks about snapping, but what good will it do? Her brother, sister and this lioness are close. They don't need her and they likely know it, only keeping her around because they have to. She adds nothing to their life outside of giving them nieces and nephews, betrothal fodder to be pawned off. She understands it needs to be that way as much as she understands she's being selfish, but Septima is miserably lonely on her best days and she sees now what has been robbed of her growing up. She was so eager to appease her father to stay home, to prove she was different from her wayward sisters; but Seneca Miroslav had forgotten about her. Months passed. Months where she should have been out making friends. Formidable months spent locked away in a dungeon, forgotten by those she had only wanted to please; and what fucking good had any of it done her? Wordlessly, she makes her own brief assessment. She won't interfere with Sedona, only handle the duty she has been assigned. It's only when Sedona hesitates that Septima speaks, her words firm: "don't let your emotions interfere. Save your anxiety for later. Focus." She has a magnificent way of shutting off her emotions when it comes to healing even when it's her baby sister laying half-dead at their paws. Septima returns to setting the bone, sucking in a breath as she abruptly presses the fragmented pieces together and turns to wrapping as best as we can. A very poetic man shows up and Septima ignores him as easily as she ignores her brother. When Septima is in the zone, she's in the zone. +10 Set a broken bone +10 Heal a character’s sickness or injury +5 Give someone advice

She continued her frenzied work, having silently accepted the company of the ghoulish, looming lion long ago. Even as he spoke in tongues, Sedona took what comfort she could in his earnest protection. She flicked the russet velvet of her ears as he revealed his own knowledge of her attacker, having served under the mire leader himself. She frowned steadily as she traced her paws over that rough, jagged bone, her stomach giving a lurch at the blatant wrongness of its positioning. Glancing over to the striped Septima to gauge their timing, she could only silently nod at her Miroslav sister's urging to stifle her emotions for the moment, no matter how her paws shook with them. Abruptly, with no further restraint, they set the bone with a click.

"They are selfish. Brash. Unforgiving. Starke takes and does not care for consequences as he has devils to do his bidding." The strange lion's words echoed in the back of her mind even as the work did not cease, her heart rate quickening and her vision seeming to blur with the swarming frenzy of emotion she could not quite escape.

"He took the mire from my father," Sedona revealed suddenly. It was not something she spoke of. She tried not to think of it – of how easily what was hers could be taken by those bigger and stronger. The reality of it did not change.

"Alaric’s pride did this? He fucks married women. Of course he’s selfish." Finally, Sedona glanced up from what she was doing. She knew what she would see. She knew those rubies would shine red with hatred – with hurt. Silently, despite herself, she resented the stranger for bringing up Alaric at all for how it would wound her daring boy. She gritted her teeth and the tiny cat shifted to begin cleaning out some of Léonie's more shallow wounds to prevent them from becoming infected. At Scorpius's demand for the identity of the attacker himself, Sedona's chest simmered with the heat of satisfaction. She had prepared for this.

"He was huge – as big as you," she explained lowly, swiping her tongue thoughtfully across her muzzle. "Blue like early night with a berry-ish mane and sunlit eyes. Plain." The queen described dutifully, vivid flashes of the encounter warping her consciousness with diluted terror. "His cheek was scarred," she recalled then. Sedona swallowed the thoughts away, reaching out a paw to trace it gingerly over the fallen Léonie's forehead as she hissed and garbled. Something within her seemed to loosen. Her jaw laxed. She thought this felt like hope.

---

Roll to heal: 6-10 success

Rolling 1d10: 6

@Léonie @Septima @Vághan @Scorpius @Lucanus @Valerian
+20 - Save a character's life through healing
+10 - Heal a character’s sickness or injury

image by moogle/code by saph

Septima's folded ears strained to listen as Sedona spoke, mentioning something about Alaric having taken the mire from her father. Interesting. She certainly hadn't known that tidbit of information, but she hadn't even considered the possibility of who had ruled the mire before its current king. Then again, she hadn't ever really thought about who had ruled Wolfbron before Amara, either; it seemed their legacies were diminishing over the flow of time. A shame. She didn't want Alaric and Amara to be the two most well-known ruler for their prides, but she knew in time they, too, would fade. Shaking her head to dismiss the thoughts, Septima returned to giving her little sister another assessment. "She's stable enough to move now. Go rest, Sedona, we'll take her from here. @Scorpius, help me get her back to her den. I'll watch her overnight to make sure she doesn't throw us any curveballs." There was no room for negotiation as she spoke and began to wiggle her way beneath Leo's body with the hope her brother would soon do the same. exit +10 Set a broken bone +10 Heal a character’s sickness or injury +5 Give someone advice