She watches while they filter in, taking note of all that had arrived. She sees siblings, a brow rising slightly as she takes in the presence of Cassandra. She wasn't that surprised to see her older sister here, but it was interesting nonetheless. Her attention shifts whenever @Yavanna arrives, giving her littermate a soft smile and a nod of greeting in return. It isn't until Morrigan begins that the Heiress's attention is pulled to focus solely on her and her words. Ears prick forward, taking in all that is being said, not surprised that her mother and their Queen speaks of war. Isla straightens her posture while listening, eyes shifting for a brief moment to look out to the ones gathered, wanting to gauge any reactions that might be given - especially to what Mutter speaks of next.

Isla had always known the outlines of what the Sigrún believed in and what their practices were, and while Morrigan briefly touched on the subject of it before directing any further questions to Eyvindr, mismatched eyes would look over toward their healer and her mothers' mate and father of their children. She watched him for a moment before redirecting her attention back to Morrigan once more. She goes on to speak of how they are here to protect and serve each member that called Illyria their home, reiterating that they did not have to partake in such brutality that Isla thrived in.

A brief mention of the Bluffs and Mire leaders is given, and hearing that bloodshed was still allowed only seemed to bring a rather dark grin to the wildcat's lips; oh, how she couldn't wait to dig into a certain Prince sooner than later. New news is now learned for Isla here as her mother speaks about Lorien and how they were plotting something toward Vermeda, which in turn meant the snowy pride, as well. While Isla wasn't too familiar with those that called the Plains their home, if they were planning any type of malicious act toward her sibling's home then the Heiress would gladly call them her own enemy, too.

And then there it was, the topic she was fully expecting: Fernweh and András. Muscles stiffen at the mentions of them while she listens, eyes narrowing subtly while the tip of her tail thumps the cold stone beneath it. There wasn't a time in the near future that Isla would forgive her cousin, and hearing Morrigan speak of how not only she but Talisa, as well, wanted to see him dead was an understatement - at least for her. She notes her mother's failing voice, coming to a rasp as she ended her long-winded speech. She moves her maw a little closer toward @Morrigan then, speaking lowly so that only she and @Talisa could hear. "I've spoken to both Mithril and Mirime at the Lagoon challenge and made it known to them that what I did was not against them. But since Fernweh is their mother..."

Voice trails off whenever ears pick up Nero's voice, eyes flicking over toward him. She listens as he relinquishes his title before mentioning he wished to speak to Morrigan privately afterward, a brow rising in subtle curiosity. After giving herself a quick shake, eyes glance over the crowd in observational silence, waiting to see if anyone else would speak.

art by flis, table by gunner

His eyes rested on @Zahra for a moment, but was quickly distracted by the encroaching form of @Jafar. That same familiar heat swelled, the pacing of his heart suddenly hastening as the bronze lion grew closer. He matched Jafar's wry smile with a small, subtle one of his own, desperate to hide the desire to scoot closer when he'd already made efforts to try and make friendly with the stranger lioness (and even moreso, with so many lions arriving to the meeting). However, he finds his tail sweeping side to side, every other time just barely missing the small tuft of Jafar's own.

It is only when @Morrigan speaks does his gaze flit away from Jafar. He remains silent and thoughtful at her speech, the depths and intricacies of Amaryllisian politics straying far from all Velimor had known of his homelands yet so similar in nature regardless. There was always going to be a fight, a fall, loss of life and gain of power. He had seen the dance enough to know the end result, and knew that if they were not the losing side themselves they would cause the grief of others innocent on the other side. And yet, Velimor never balked; it was the nature of war, and those too soft to endure it often found sanctuary in places far more peaceful, far less inclined toward greed and glory.

Velimor held no true opinion either way toward the customs and cultures of families far out of his grasp. The Dragos had been bred and raised as soldiers, honed for war from birth and destined to the battlefield. He knew well of familial destiny, of dynasties resting on the shoulders of patriarchs and matriarchs. A role he had so egregiously failed to fulfill, and had ultimately destroyed the Dragos in the process.

His gaze flits briefly to @Nero as he renounces his rank; there is no malice, nor contentment from the soldier. He understands well the nature of these things, and though he does not know what drove the opinions of others as they each spoke their piece, it was woven into Morrigan's own speech that there would be fallout, choices having to be made. Velimor's concern laid only in the fact that, in times of war, the Queens should not have their ranks linger empty. I would like to petition for the rank, he resigned, before rising to his paws. I was born and raised for war. I have skills that might prove useful when the time comes. At the very least, he was unafraid of bringing down the sword; he would stop at nothing to prove his loyalty.

It didn't hurt either, he thought, that Jafar also carried the same title.

Velimor vs ???
for Gentry
o of iii

She had heard the call, had recognized it as something that didn’t exactly include her, but she found herself moving towards it anyway. Curiosity ate at her, wondering what all the adults might be discussing and if it might end up being something interesting. A lot of adult stuff was boring, she’d found, but not all of it. Keeping low to the ground, Valeria did her best to sneak to the outskirts of the meeting, finding a large rock that should have blocked her from view of most of those gathered, if not all of them, and leaned in to listen. War was upon them. Morrigan, the woman who had taken them in those months ago when they’d arrived after losing their home, went on. She said a lot of things, and the vast majority of it only halfway made sense to her. Speaking of Sigrun and Rike, and enemies that seemed to have painted targets on all their backs. The thing that stuck with her through all of it was the offer to leave, if they did not want part of the bloodshed. As though it was unavoidable at this point. Her breath caught in her throat, and she struggled to keep her focus on anything that came after, only picking up bits and pieces that, without more context, she didn’t care enough about to try and make sense of it. Did this mean they would be leaving now? Or would they be a part of this war? She peeked out from behind her hiding spot, yellow eyes scanning the crowd for her father, to try and see if she could gauge his line of thinking. Her attention was only pulled from Jafar when another spoke, someone she recognized as he had traveled from the Rainforest to the Summit with them. He was challenging for a rank, and seemed fully prepared for violence that was to come. Wide eyes went back to Jafar, wanting to know where their place in all of this would be, and hoping he would do or say something that would give her a clear answer so that she would at least know what the future would hold. I saw it mentioned in discord that stragglers could come in and hear everything Morri said but pls let me know if I need to edit!

art & code by vasilia

With @Morrigan's speech, he listened vehemently. A large portion of he had already guesstimate about but some was new. While he had little to no knowledge of the Sigrun ways (at least nothing that's ever been discussed from Linnaea ICly), all he knew was that he was fighting to help an ally. An ally that he would have and hold regardless of if he held a pride or not, he would fight for them or with them in any matter. The news that he had brought to his leader's attention was important to know given that Cassandra was their daughter and the ruler in which another was casting war towards.

Not only the war upon Vermeda, but the war that the Summit (i.e. Sigrun allies) were facing. Being their soldier in this was what he had signed up for since the beginning and if anything, it made him all the more confident. Jafar had set out into this land to make a name for himself no matter what it took. There were many who would not know who he was but to those that mattered, they knew. One such lion - he remembered from the catastrophic meeting at the Peak who had announced that his wife, Ghyslaine, was missing - denounced his rank within the pride, showing that he did not wish to be a part of this war. There was no shame, not from Jafar at least, in knowing your own boundaries.

Though just as the male relinquished it, did his own soldier @Velimor step up to petition for the rank. A smile tilted at the corner of his mouth, pleased to see the man step up to a rank that he, too, occupied. The small, nearly hidden glances and the sweeping of a long tail to his had not gone unnoticed. Always sending an electric pulse through his bronze body, trying to remain as composed as possible while still melting at the wild, imaginative thoughts in his mind.

Morrigan, he calls directly to her as he moves to stand so he can more easily be seen by all and not just his High Sovereign, I will stand with you, as I assume my family will, too. But, he did wish for some things to be known. I have four young children and hope that I can rely on your members and our allies to defend them if I or my wives are otherwise engaged. He knew he could count on the man at his side ten-fold to help to keep his family together, that much he could be confident about, but he did not know anyone else. Not out of lack of trying but simply because he wasn't a socialite by any means. @Valeria

^{ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY CALA}

Zahra watches as more lions arrive to listen to what Morrigan had to tell to them. She was eager to get some needed catch-up from all the events and things she missed. Wondering how much the Summit had changed during her time in captivity with Vermier's silly pride. She was glad it was taken away from him, he deserved it. She watches a male(@Velimor) sit near her, to which she gives him a friendly nod. Finally, the Queen speaks, and when she does her eyes widen in both surprise and disbelief for all that she had said. She speaks of the well know Sigrun death enemies. So an Skagos was here too? That was nice. When she spoke about going to him for learn more she felt the need to add. "Greetings for those who don't know me, I am Zahra Sigrun. Daughter to the former Jarl Magnus. And I am also well-taught about the story of the rivalry between the Sigrun and the Rike. I can also offer my knowledge and experience to whoever wishes to know more of them. Any questions about our ceremony can also be answered by me if so you need it as myself had gone through it." She speaks loud to those around her. As always Zahra wasn't afraid to speak of what was on her mind. She nods at Morrigan's words towards herself. "Of course, I am with you in this battle, My family has a lot to solve with the Rike. All the lives they had taken from us cannot be forgiven. They even went far as to murder a cousin of mine when she was a young cub. I will be by your side in this fight. I shall accept the rank of lead scout. I will not let them go unpunished." That was not only a premise to them, but to Vellen himself. Then the next topic at hand was of a pride, Lorien Plains that seemed to have a childish obsession with the Brook. Something she found despicable, to take it against someone. "Do you want me to seek more information about these Lorien lions? Do you have any names of these lions seeking harm to the Brook?" She asks wanting to help with that if so Morrigan allowed her to do. +5 Learn information about a potential threat

art by ulfied+ code by spu

And it'sx my whole heart, xxweighed and m e a s u r e d xxxxxxxxxxx i n s i d e And it's an old scar, trying to bleach it out

Nothing about the tardiness of the peach colored witch was fashionable, as she sauntered in adorned in her ragged cloak of dark fur, her legs and muzzle covered in healing blisters and her expression sullen. It had been some days since she had given up her search for Svetka, the red reaper who she had been so close to admitting her love for. Truly, it was breaking her.

When the call had come, she had been far down the mountain, admittedly stealing the affections of the small spotted beauty within Vermeda. Her mind would slip to Daredasher, the woman the only solace she felt these days. But how long would it be before the curse took her away too?

The priestess arrived in time to catch the tail end of the freshly healed queen throat, sapphire and ruby gaze peering upon the Greyflood woman as she spoke of impending war. Arachnae was not surprised, but even so s deep sense of anxiety filled her chest. Chaos, the relentless force that threatened to awaken Apophis and allow him to swallow the sun and bring them all to doom- just how much more would it take? Things were getting worse. She was the last of the clan to appease him.

She felt useless, truly, as she stood there in the back of the crowd and listened to those present speak of ranks and the impending bloodshed. The witch wondered just how much use she even was, restricted beneath the moon and distraught. Could she even complete this purpose.... When she had done it for her sweet reaper? Regardless, she was loyal to the Greyflood-Tollaire and Valour, and would remain wherever her sovereigns saw fit. Even though joining Darcy in Vermeda was a tempting prospect, the constant companionship of Rawkshi a possibility in the lowlands. My loyalty will always remain with your family, your majesties. And I will serve you for as long as I am able. She would speak up towards @Morrigan and @Talisa, giving a deep bow of her head.

who's a heretic now?

code by loki - art by Aurora

She was late to the party, but that was the usual manner of the wartorn bitch. Yawning sleepily, she made her way into the scene quietly. For the first time in her life, probably. Ears twitch, listening idly to the conversations going on but somewhat out of the loop due to her late arrival. Stretching lazily, the ashen lioness looks to @Morrigan, offering the woman a crooked, lazy smile. "'Sup, babe. What's goin' on, I miss somethin?" If it came down to loyalty, Morrigan herself should know where Alizabeth's lay. There was no doubt about it and she'd kick ass and ask questions later if need be.

"War is upon us."

That catches Roarke’s attention. Ears flick forward through locks of red, snow crusted mane, and the giant finds himself leaning forward to catch every one of @Morrigan's words, and that of her queen’s after. When the valkyrie seems to seek him out with a grin, Roarke can’t help but return it with the same brutal, pleased expression.

A few others speak up - the boy @Nero among them, now more man than child, passing back his rank. Unfortunate, but his reasons are his own. Roarke considers it for a moment, and within it another male speaks up to challenge for it. And while Velimor seems capable, the giant still lumbers to his paws and steps across the snow.

"You can fight me for it," he says, brows lifting over bright, excited eyes. "I’ll test you, or I’ll take it myself." Lead fighter is a valuable rank, yes, but in war something with a bit more power was certainly better. He does not initiate, however; Roarke’s gaze flicks up to the sovereigns for the go ahead, or the order to stop.

Roarke vs @Velimor
for Gentry
0 of 3

Velimor was not afriad of a fight (he had challenged for the rank, after all) but as @Roarke stepped up to face his call, Velimor couldn't help the sudden hastening of his heart, the cruel reminder that it truly had been a long time since he'd raised arms against another. Whatever warrior he'd been bred and borne before now lay dormant, and though he was sure it would rekindle with renewed ferocity, he wasn't quite sure it would come back in some valiant battle for rank and title. Against Roarke, Velimor could very well lose; and yet, he wanted nothing more.

As his nerves settled, he offered a firm nod toward the Lead Fighter, eased by the pleasant look in the lion's eyes as his forepaws parted slightly, his shoulders drawing back and upwards in a straighter posture. Very well, he says, accepting the challenge gracefully; whoever should win, they would need a strong and capable Gentry, ready for the war that bared its teeth on their doorstep. Thus, Velimor quickly took off for the man, approaching Roarke head on. As he neared, his right paw raised as his left forepaw braced his weight against the ground. With claws sheathed, he attempted to bear the paw down onto the very top of Roarke's head.

Velimor vs Roarke
for Gentry
i of iii

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 3 + 8 + 2 + 18 + 9 + 10 + 15

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 15 + 16 + 18 + 10

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 5 + 14 + 11 + 7 + 10

Upon entrance @Talisa is sure to greet each and every pride member. Something he considered admirable as a leader at the forefront of a pride. Pastel candied locks flowed around his ink face as he lowered it in greeting back towards the mistress, before moving to take his place among the crowd.

Moods shifted amongst those present once the matriarchs began to speak. Slit pupils observed those present, silence upon his lips as he considered the many factors which kept him within the frozen pride. High regard for the women that lead it came forefront, though he'd found himself in compromising situations many times since showing firm allegiance to them. Pros and cons weighed in many places, this was just another one.

My strengths are in healing, as you know. I'll stand by you, but I'm afraid my skills in fighting are no match to most foes. There was not much to be said, as he would not waver in allegiance just because @Morrigan and Talisa found themselves with many enemies. True, it made for political dealings to be far more complicated than some, but it was inevitable to have enemies.

Multi-colored eyes flicked to @Nero as the younger man spoke up. Recollection brought an image of the pale lion with a cub, although why the man relinquished his rank was beyond him. It was something he'd done as well, being of little use in battle to the matriarchs.

Another stood to challenge for the rank. This was not someone he knew at all within the pride, just as he'd not known Jafar when he'd given his rank to the older man. Attention moved to the challenger, curious as to who would vie for the position. While he had no herb satchel with him, the dens were not far. Should anyone need attendance they could find the medicinal room meant for those sick or injured, carved carefully with store rooms attached. An addition he'd thought feasible with as many fights the pride entertained. For now he'd be the attendee, observing and attending any wounds sustained after the match.

+5 Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds (1/2)
+5 Observe a challenge and learn the results (1/2)

ART»CODE