Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

Muriel paused in their three-limbed walk, scrunching their round face tightly and holding their breath. Their left foreleg hung stiffly from its socket, twisted ever so slightly and an awkward angle. The fall from the tree had been a hard one. They had tried to climb up again, but it had been impossible. They watched as the family of crows they called family took to the sky and vanished in the distance. It seemed like a very sudden move, but maybe they saw some danger? The birds didn't wait for Muriel, but the young thing hobbled as fast as they could after them. They had disappeared within a minute of them taking to the air, but Muriel was sure they went this way.

Family sticks together, right? If only her wings would grow in faster. When did the crows say it would happen? When they were two? They always laughed when Muriel asked about the wings, so surely it would be a joyous event when it did eventually happen.

The young things molten gaze squinted in the sun. They tried very hard not to think to hard about why the family of crows who had raised them suddenly pretended they weren't there, laying on the ground with a dislocated shoulder, and took flight without so much as a second glance. It was definitely something dangerous that scared them off. Had to be. Obviously they wouldn't have abandoned poor Muriel! Of course they wouldn't have done. Right?

Muriel cleared their throat, forcing a determined look into their face and beginning the awkward three-legged shuffle they had been propelling themself forward with. Trying their absolute best not to move the painful limb.

code by scorpixia♡︎

OOC: I know Muriel’s pronouns are they/them but Roarke doesn’t yet, however I’m happy to change that if that’s more comfortable for you

An injured girl on the horizon draws the noble from the shade, where he’d been reclining in wait for a decent looking recruit. He should, after all, carry out the duties of his rank every so often. Even if the Summit was full to bursting, war was never far off - able bodies were well worth the effort. Roarke takes his time approaching, watching the yearling stumble onward, seemingly so very determined to continue on despite her obvious pain. Impressive, he thinks. Injured or not, in time she’d prove useful.

And Talisa - and Morrigan - would kick his ass if she found out he left someone hurt out here.

Roarke chuffs to get her attention, not at all polite or gentle in his approach, as he attempts to stand before her. "Your shoulder looks dislocated. There’s a healer in my pride, the Summit. Come, I can help you get there."

Roarke vs ?
For claiming @Muriel
0 of III

table by ferus, art by ale-tie

a group of crows, cloistered together, exploded into the air.

this passage had become a skmewhat regular stalking ground for wën, although not much had come of it - still, bruno's instructions rang like a bell, true and clear within her mind. she was not to remain idle. all in ecrosia had their work to do. and so morwënna took the clear sign that a lost soul awaited response, birds now scattered into the winds, but their source well remembered, and she headed there.

she was not the first. wën did not recognise the much older male, though she eyed him curiously, a flash of recognition as she managed to catch a glance past his hunking form to a shadowy yearling, small and injured, who he sort of seemed to be trying to manhandle. well intentioned, perhaps, though morwënna knew better than most that not everybody appreciated touches from strangers. her skin crawled at the idea. "now," came the soft admonishing tones of her voice, dark lips parted just-so as she looked between @Muriel and @Roarke. "would the little one like a choice? there is more than one home to choose from, and your summit has no monopoly on healers." purr. "i could take you to the mire, instead, where you would grow strong - we are many." she could see why the creature needed a home - but many could offer what this male had.

★

i am the storm / and im coming for you

she had seen the greed of men too many times. were they so oppressed that they must lay claim to everything once a speck of power came beneath their hold? faustine chose not to dwell on the thought, but on the towering draconic male that sought his claim over the rogue lioness. logic told her she would not win, but the chance to fight tooth and claw with a grown male of such size made faustine irrevocably joyous. she had always dreamed of lording over men and women bigger than she. while that certainly won't happen now, she will make sure it'll happen later in her life.

impudent men, selfish creatures who take and take she hissed, placing herself between @Roarke and @Muriel. her front faced the man's front. let me train myself against your kind -- as you are only good for my own gain. she thrusted herself forward and attempted to slither one unsheathed paw around roarke's right ankle, hoping to trip him. with her mouth opened showing rows of yellow teeth, faustine attempted to drag them down the man's chest.


faustine vs roarke
For muriel/faucet fun times
i ii iii
Hits:

Rolling 4d20: 9 + 5 + 11 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 10 + 4 + 12

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 3 + 11 + 16 + 18 + 10

CODE BY DAANYEN + ART BY HUSH

Muriel hadn't even thought about the possibility of meeting lions. The dark cloaked youth had been told of the creatures, of course. Just enough to satisfy their questions. And just enough information to keep Muriel away from them. They were so focused on following the trail of the crows, it didn't even occur to them until a chuff made a "eep!" escape their patterned lips.

The round faces cherub has seen lions from afar. But they had always seemed so small. Yet, up close, they seemed like giants. Muriel took a step back, not out of fear. They didn't have enough knowledge of the world to truly understand fear. But they stepped back so they could look properly at the man. "Hello!" They said brightly, flashing a wide toothy grin. @Roarke spoke, and Muriel tilted their head. "What's a 'dislocated?" They looked at their shoulder quizzically. There was so many questions. Why was the man so big? What was a healer? What was a summit? And a pride? Muriel was ready to ask, but another lion appeared. This one looked elaboratly decorated. The yearling couldn't help but stare at @Morwënna for a moment. Already, the bird-cat felt a bit overwhelmed. And Muriel could decide if the knot in their stomach was from excitement.

"Oh. Hello!" Muriel said, their tone still bright. They listened to the spotted woman talk, speckled ears twisting. "Oh, I don't need a home, thank you! I just need to get back to my family ..." Which shouldn't be to hard, right? They were probably just in a near by tree. Resting. Waiting for Muriel to catch up. That definitely is what was going on. Absolutely. Muriel was, in every single way possible, and with every fiber of their being, an optimist.

But even an unwavering sense of optimism cannot shield the yearling from the absolute shock of seeing another lioness appear, spit out words that Muriel didn't quite have the time to process before launching at the man. Muriel took another step back, frowning. "Um. Why are you... Doing that?" Their voice was soft, not really aimed at @Faustine or the other lions. It was more so a question to themselves. Because they were rather confused and a bit alarmed

code by scorpixia♡︎

The little creature jumps, clearly not aware of her surroundings enough to notice the lumbering giant heading her way until he calls out. A smirk slithers along his lips, and Roarke chuckles. She isn’t put out by the pain of her leg. He’d be bitching about it to no end.

"Hello," he returns. "Dislocated is what’s happened to your leg - it hurts, aye? You can’t move it properly?" She’s young - no surprise there’s no clue as to why the limb hangs funny. But that’s as far as they get before another joins them. A mire lioness slides up, trying to admonish the giant for his claim, but @Morwënna doesn’t challenge him directly. He isn’t about to drop his claim for her tsking at him.

"Are you legion?" He asks the woman dryly, his writer unable to help herself. @Muriel is quick to speak up for herself, insisting she needs no home - but her family. "You can’t run around on that leg, kid -"

And that’s when the next voice pipes up and a dark little imp slips between Roarke and the injured child, as if he’d been trying to drag her away. That face, that tone, and that scent tell Roarke all he needs to know about who exactly this yearling is.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." He says, to no one in particular. But he’s never one to back down from a fight - especially if it means putting arrogant little fools like this one in her place.

Faustine’s claws wrap around his ankle, and while they cut into his skin, it does absolutely nothing to trip him; he’d been standing still the entire time, relaxed and balanced. He doesn’t even budge. As her jaws open and fly forward, Roarke simply lifts his left forelimb and attempts to slam it into the side of her face, trying to rake his claws across her cheek and - hopefully - shove her face-first into the ground.

"Can you help her, lass?" This, directed at Morwënna while his gaze and focus remains on the goblin trying to attack him. His expression does not change from the slightly irritated, deadpan look of someone utterly done with the situation already. "Get her a healer."

Roarke vs @Faustine
For Muriel
I of III
Hits:

Rolling 10d20: 3 + 5 + 6 + 15 + 2 + 12 + 7 + 13 + 16 + 19

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 17 + 3 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 12 + 15 + 7 + 16 + 2

table by ferus, art by ale-tie

all thoughts of the woman was gone by the time that rush of adrenaline spiked within her bloodstream. faustine was small, but she felt mighty, even if her attacks were like ants biting into a boulder. this only justified her poor attempt to dominate her opponent. she was swiftly sent to the ground, body crumpling on the earth as a cloud of dust parted beneath her. she could taste the dirt in her mouth, plus the blood from when she bit herself too hard during the fall. the claws that fat lizard had were flesh wounds, thankfully. faustine managed to squirm away, feeling her face battered and her mouth on fire. yet still she chose not to admit defeat. this was more fun and entertaining than her duties as a ranked pride member.

faustine attempted to wrap her forearms around @Roarke's front leg and attempted to sink her fangs into his leg. all thoughts of fighting gracefully and methodically left her the moment her crocodilian self surfaced once more. the prospect of tasting flesh or even just blood made saliva trickle down faustine's mouth. the pungent odor of the swamp intertwined with that of the earthen scent of her pride home. surely this lizard man could smell it now?

faustine vs roarke
For rancid fun times
i ii iii
Hits:

Rolling 4d20: 10 + 6 + 4 + 3

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 2 + 18 + 19

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 2 + 4 + 7 + 16 + 5

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY LARS

Faustine goes down under his paw, and he thinks that’s the end of it - surely. But no, the little wretch wriggles her way free from under his grip and immediately wraps herself around his leg.

Roarke sighs.

It hurts, sure. Her little needle-teeth and claws break his skin and dig in. more than anything, however, she’s irritating and - as much as Roarke would hate to admit it out loud - kind of amusing, too. He actually has to fight the grin trying to betray him.

The giant sits on his rump, lowering his centre of gravity to more easily hold himself up while he lifts that attacked front leg and then attempts to slam it down - more accurately, he attempts to slam Faustine down into the ground.

Roarke vs @Faustine
For Muriel
II of III
Hits:

Rolling 10d20: 14 + 4 + 6 + 15 + 13 + 12 + 18 + 19 + 17 + 8

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 16 + 10 + 14

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 7 + 8 + 9 + 11 + 10

table by ferus, art by ale-tie

i am the storm / and im coming for you

for a few seconds, faustine found comfort in being able to let loose and believe she was ripping someone apart. however, reality proved to be an ugly truth. her body was easily lifted into the air, her back legs kicked and even attempted to find purchase on @Roarke's body. alas, she found no such success as she was simply too far away. she only touched air as she wriggled and dangled for a mere second before her back was crushed into the ground. it didn't hurt so badly that she began to growl, no, it was her wounded pride that hurts. she couldn't leave this time; the lizard man was so heavy that all she could do was heave and glare and spit ( and half hoping that same spit would find purchase on roarke's face ) like the angry teen she was. faustine attempted to drag both of her front paws down the man's leg, her lethal weapons still sharp and gleaming beneath the rays of the sun.

faustine vs roarke
For rancid being rancid
i ii iii
Hits:

Rolling 4d20: 14 + 8 + 19 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 16 + 11 + 14

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 19 + 16 + 7 + 5

CODE BY DAANYEN + ART BY HUSH

Any reasonable creature would give up after being thrown to the ground and crushed under the bigger, immovable beast that is Roarke. One day, she might kick his ass. But not today - the Wolfbron welp has a lot of growing and learning to do. To no one’s surprise and least of all Roarke’s, however, Faustine is too stubborn for her own good.

Spit slides down his chin, into his mane, and any goodwill Roarke had drains away with that disrespectful move. His leg was going to fucking hurt for days after this. Small as she is, the little rat’s teeth and claws are sharp. The cuts she leaves, breaking skin and digging into the meat of his leg, sting.

So Roarke begins to slowly - carefully - try to press his weight down on the paw pinning her body, his claws attempting to dig into her skin. He isn’t trying to break anything, not really, but the point of the movement is to make her think twice about attacking him again - and make her yield.

Or pass out.

He’ll take either.

Roarke vs @Faustine
For Muriel
III of III
Hits:

Rolling 10d20: 11 + 4 + 12 + 9 + 20 + 15 + 8 + 1 + 17 + 5

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 9 + 11 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 3 + 20 + 2 + 15 + 12