TRIGGER WARNING!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of [extreme violence, gore, heavy blood, cannibalism thoughts, cannibalism attempt - bluey can pick this]



Every fiber of Miaran's being was consumed by the intense battle, her heart pounding with adrenaline as she felt the warm, sticky blood of her adversary mingling with her own. The metallic tang of it filled her senses, fueling her primal instincts as she fought tooth and claw, determined to emerge victorious.

With each vicious strike, Miaran's determination only grew stronger. The searing pain coursing through her body was nothing compared to the burning desire for victory that consumed her. She could feel the weight of every blow, the crunch of bone beneath her fangs driving her further into a frenzy of bloodlust.

As she tasted the coppery tang of Pyrrha's blood on her tongue, Miaran felt a fierce hunger rise within her. How long had it been since she had tasted her own kind's meat? The primal urge to consume, to destroy, to dominate, drove her on relentlessly. She savored the sensation of tearing flesh and attempted to tear and eat the flesh of Pyrrha's face that she had in her grasp, of attempting at still rending the pink mouth muscle of Pyrrha's tongue with her right front claws, her own wounds forgotten in the heat of battle. Right front paw losing grip as fangs pierced further in it.

Though every ounce of her being screamed for rest, for respite, Miaran refused to yield. Her resolve was unbreakable, her focus unwavering as she fought through the agony, the exhaustion, the overwhelming odds stacked against her. With every ounce of strength she possessed, she pushed forward, refusing to let her enemy see even a hint of weakness.

The clash of fur and sinew, of claw and fang, was a symphony of brutality. Miaran's instincts guided her every move, her primal instincts driving her onward in a relentless pursuit of victory. With each passing moment, she became more than a mere predator—she became a force of nature, an embodiment of raw, untamed power.

And as the battle raged on, Miaran's determination remained unshaken. With blood and sweat mingling on her fur, with wounds fresh and old throbbing in protest, she stood her ground. She would never waver, never falter, never back down. For in that moment, Miaran was not just a warrior—she was a living, breathing testament to the will to conquer, the spirit to endure, the heart to fight until the bitter end.


@Miaran ♔ vs @Pyrrha ♔
Caladan Cove
Round 4 / 5

Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 19 + 16 + 14 + 13 + 4 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 7d20: 12 + 1 + 11 + 4 + 19 + 9 + 17

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 3 + 15 + 12 + 17

table code by daanyen

+10 Sneak into another pride's territory without getting caught
+10 Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread
+10 Remain undetected in a large thread (5+ characters)

---

Such dismal weather implied a sojourn under the weak trees of the Oasis, and as the storm deepened he considered sheltering against a wind-blessed dune. Within his casually parted maw, his tongue pulsed and he enjoyed the humidity of the storm bringing the scents of summer life to his purview. Yet not scent, but drifting sound found reason to rouse the scout from his lazy vigil. The tone of Pyrrha's voice recalled many hunts and the location - obvious - contained a general enemy of the pride.

George cut swiftly across the desert and badlands then skirted the pit and the temptingly green plains. He shared destination with many curious onlookers, yet rather than join them he cut off to trace a path along the craggy cliffs that would eventually outline the Cove. Shaggy yet swift, he remembered the easier paths from his time in this pride. As well as a comfortable spot near the arches that spanned the ocean where he had a clear view of the pride entry way and thus the fight. As expected, the incumbent fought like a mad lioness and Pyrrha's youth and relative inexperience made him scowl. If she was a male, she would be brave for this. But she wasn't, simply a fool girl.

Hopefully she would inflict enough injuries for someone larger, stronger, and maler to take the usurper out.

--- George is attempting to hide

Rolling assassinhide 1d30: 7
You are successfully hidden!

Khadija was feeling afraid, unsure of how this will end but what she did know was that whatever happened she wanted to be with Miaran, to support her as much as she could. She had shown her so much acceptance and care she didn't think she could even dare to turn her back at them. She holds her dried-up herbs with anxiety. She turns at @Lagertha as she sat down with her, wondering if she would be supporting Pyrrha or Miaran, she wanted ti ask but she sought it as rude. So for now she looked at her. "I am afraid," She admitted as she looked back at the fight. "Whatever happens I will treat Miaran." No matter what. x2 +10 Dry or prepare herbs for use +10 Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds

art by Shaz + code by spu

Her cheek is further wounded by Miaran's tearing and the battle grows long. Pyrrha feels the sweet heat of exhaustion building in her muscles. It will conclude before long, and one of them will be good enough. Her tongue feels swollen as she once again attempts to crush bones and tear deep into the flesh of the paw she has a hold on. Claws are dug deeper into tongue, but perhaps silver lining of the paralyzing impact of the hemlock is that besides the pressure of it all the pain itself is minimal for now.

Pyrrha's right paw raises higher in another attack, this time attempting to slam into the side of Miaran's head and cause a forceful, staggering, blow more like a punch the a slashing claw attack.

Pyrrha vs @Miaran
For Caladan Cove
Round 4 / 5
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 9 + 13 + 11 + 4 + 14 + 15 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 4 + 3 + 16 + 20

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 2 + 7 + 8 + 17 + 3

_{BG — ART BY RABBIT — CODE}

Miaran's heart was pounding in her chest as she struggled to protect herself from her opponent's relentless attacks. With each movement, the pain coursing through her body seemed to intensify, a constant reminder of the brutal battle she was engaged in.

Blood dripped steadily from her many wounds, staining the ground beneath her. Despite the throbbing agony that pulsed through her, Miaran refused to give up. With a grim determination, she focused on mustering every last ounce of strength she had left.

As her opponent's fangs tore into her right front paw, a searing pain shot through her, causing her to clench her jaws tightly together. The scent of blood filled her senses, but she pushed past the agony, knowing that she had to keep fighting.

With a final burst of effort, Miaran gritted her teeth in pain as she was aiming for digging into her opponent's tongue in a last-ditch attempt to break free. The numbness that spread through her paw only served to fuel her resolve, even as the bones in her paw cracked and broke under the intense pressure.

Miaran could feel the sharp claws ripping into her skin and the brutal impact of Pyrrha's paw against her head. Blood flowing from the wounds on her face as she staggered from the blow, feeling the searing pain radiating from her temple.

A guttural hiss escaped her throat as she pushed through the pain, refusing to let her injuries defeat her. Miaran's eyes blazed with a fierce determination, a fire that burned brightly even in the midst of her darkest hour. She would not be broken, not now, not ever.

With every fiber of her being, Miaran fought to keep her eyelids narrowed and ears pinned, her back legs trembling from sheer exhaustion. The agony in her muscles radiated through her as her tail thrashed behind her, a testament to the fierce determination burning within her. She refused to give up, pushing herself beyond her limits in a display of unwavering passion and strength.


@Miaran vs @Pyrrha ♔
Caladan Cove
Round 5 / 5

Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 2 + 3 + 15 + 18 + 20 + 4

Dodges:

Rolling 7d20: 1 + 16 + 19 + 12 + 14 + 5 + 10

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 4 + 17 + 15 + 5

table code by daanyen

Ears pinned and eyes narrowed as a hiss left his lips at her words about showing him what a real one was. "More like a child having a temper tantrum." He growled as they fought. While she fell he felt her claws pulling at his mane at the scruff of his neck. Being brought down with her he shifted his weight so that he fell more on his right side. Therefore her back claws didn’t rip at his belly but more so his hip and side. Snarling from the pain he attempted bite the side of her face as he pushed up and attempted to stand up and swing his back end away from her. The fact that he was missing his queen fight was pissing him off.

Milano vs. @Noemi
Minor Maim
Round 2 / 4

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 2 + 10 + 1 + 16 + 13

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 18 + 15 + 9 + 14 + 13

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 4 + 3 + 6 + 10 + 16

code by corvus & art by moogle

+5 Observe a fight (pyrrha/miaran)
+5 Observe a fight (noemi/milano)
+10 Infiltrate a pride’s borders by pretending you’re a member

---

Memory led her between flashes of lightning. Scents flooded as she approached. Her skull swung in blatant curiosity. Yet nearer, as though with a switch, she changed mannerisms. Her pudgy gait now high, ludicrous, affecting a swagger of indignation. She sniffed at a border marking and rolled once, coating its scent across her scruff. The arena smelled like a mixture of sand, ocean, and everything; atop the everything, and the low constant mix of the Bluffs, the Cove scent wafted fresh.

With this as well, and confidence unbidden, the runt paced across the borders toward the bulk of the bloody fighting. She smelled females, one younger and one adult, and the long nearly stale rush of adrenaline and blood soaking sand, mixing with water; the main fight. Void eyes wide from instinct, she regarded this fight with ears forward and her stance light.

Curses from elsewhere, a young male voice asserting bitch!, also urged a swing of her skull and a bitter grin across her white fangs. Between the rumbles of thunder she heard temper tantrum, a frequent accusation, and in solidarity she piped up "Get him!"

-- trespassing, lightly scented of Cove from a distance but WB is evident if your character gets close

"Keep talking!," she spat up at him. He’d managed to mostly steady his fall and her back feet only grazed his side, not digging in nearly as much as she would have preferred. "We’ll see what’s left after this tantrum is over!"

He was bearing down on the side of her face and she flung herself sideways to roll away from him just as he grabbed at her cheek. She jerked her head free, feeling the skin rip between his teeth and as she rolled, she kicked out blindly with her feet, hoping to send his back legs flying out from underneath him. Not waiting to see if it worked, she scrambled to her feet, claws digging through sand to find purchase and whipped around, ready to face him again.

---

@Noemi vs @Milano
Minor Maim
Round 3 / 4

Hits:

Rolling 4d20: 9 + 5 + 14 + 6

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 14 + 9 + 20 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 3 + 20 + 15 + 11 + 13 + 14

code by scorpixia♡︎

Arcania X'uekai

count my cards, watch them fall
I like the way they all scream

+10 Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread (?)
+10 Sneak into another pride's territory without getting caught (?)

+10 Remain undetected in a large thread (5+ characters) (?)

So she was a little late. It wasn't like their prides were right next to each other, so she could be cut some slack, surely. Plus she had taken the time to coat herself in the Cove's scent, so that if any decided to come after her, they would think her part of the pride being challenged for. She didn't know how much Icefang wanted their alliances to be known, though she could just as easily excuse her presence by saying she was curious.

Miaran and her opponent were already locked in battle, one that was quite close to finished she noticed. There was also another fight on the sidelines, as there often were, and Arcania settled in behind a sand dune and some shrubbery to keep an eye on things and see if their alliance would stand, or if Miaran would possibly be fighting for them without the backup of the Cove. She did hope the plucky woman would win, and not just because they needed allies. No, she genuinely wanted the woman to keep her throne.

50% chance to remain hidden (can’t be discovered; threads not marked P):

Rolling assassinhide 1d30: 1
You are successfully hidden!

code by scorpixia♡︎

Snarling was his only answer to her witty comeback to him saying she was having a temper tantrum. This was his home turf he could have easily avoided this fight by sitting with his pridemates and keeping his mouth shut, but she was the enemy. One who came here and started this fight. Though perhaps he was the one having a temper tantrum. He tasted her blood on his tongue but only for a moment as she ripped her face away from him. When she kicked his legs out from under him he felt her claws rake against his thigh and he slipped on the slick wet sand. Landing with a thud he was sure going to feel that later. Starting to pant from the adrenaline something in him was twisting a bit as he found he was rather excited and enjoying the violence. It would seem he is his mother’s son after all.

Attempting to surge forward after she had turned to face him he attempted to lift his front paws and tried to wrap his claws around her neck closer to her shoulders trying to get a grip on her again and wrap her in a violent hug.

Milano vs. @Noemi
Minor Maim
Round 3 / 4

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 12 + 17 + 14 + 13 + 11

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 12 + 16 + 1 + 17 + 11

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 18 + 8 + 6 + 3 + 17

code by corvus & art by moogle