The jagged shadow of the towering rocks parted just enough to allow a shaft of sunlight to illuminate the path ahead. Mundi, a lanky clouded leopard with a coat patterned in shades of gold and earthy rust, paused at the edge of Maua's Passage. His stomach twisted and grumbled loudly, protesting the lack of nourishment for the past few days. Starving artist or beggar medicine man? Neither archetype thrilled his aching feet. The collection of trinkets layered about his neck and broad shoulders cracked and cackled as he moved--commentary of the sacred bones.

"Ah, the Passage..." Mundi muttered to himself, recalling the words of a stranger, his voice dripping with the foreign lilt of his distant homeland. "The legendary gateway to... well, somewhere that hopefully has a decent meal." He chuckled darkly to himself, his long whiskers twitching. The scent of unfamiliar flora and the distant call of exotic birds filled the air, a stark reminder that he was far from home, and the unforgiving night was near and quickening its sly advance.

He took a deep breath, his brilliant gaze narrowing with determination. "Alright, old boy, time to put on your best performance yet." With a mischievous grin, he sauntered forward, his paws moving with a practiced grace that belied his slightly disheveled appearance. As he walked, Mundi's keen eyes scanned the exotic surroundings, noting every detail – the vibrant colors of the flowers, the distant rustle of leaves hinting at hidden creatures, and the murmur of water hissing along the sandbar. His mind raced with potential stories and songs he could weave about this new land. After all, the gods surely had guided him here for a reason?

~Firnen Rainforest preferred~

Code by Sammie

hail to the king
kneel to the crown

royal flames will carve a path to chaos
bringing daylight to the night
let the water flow with shades of red
arrows black out the light

A pleasant chill had eased its soft touch on the cloying humidity of the rainforest – and while murder swung its heavy weight back and forth in the Tsar’s mind, numbers remained ever prevalent where his eyes roamed. While they were strong on a unified front, much of Firnen remained young and untrained, however newly tuned to the drums of war. They were few, though mighty, and little had been done to rectify their drawbacks. Why, when they had been built upon the precipice of secretive natures, undisclosed in the haven of sheltering, shuddering trees and strangling vine?

The sun had lessened in its grueling bearing, and it was a begrudging motive to patch the holes in their pride that Gauthier made his trek to the Passage. Too often had he passed the soft, heavy-lidded vagrants in their blushing courtesies and patient, meek smiles. Firnen had always needed those who snarled against the cut of the sword, unwilling to yield or shy from its shadow. Nor did he desire those whose lofty morals snuffed their mettle, those of knightly antics who recoiled when the puddle of blood stretched to their toes.

A small, tentative glimmer of hope always trailed him that his own family would appear from the mists of decay and silence if only to be dashed one face at a time.

Yet as the day dwindled, one note rose above the rest: something familiar, something intriguing, something appetizing. Not the normal musk of the average wayward lion, salt-sore and ridden by the muck of the east. Something akin to leopard-redolence, one he knew all too well, having watched his newest comrade with the utmost restraint. Delighted, watching the little tree-cat bustle himself along the tight-ropes of the kingdom, golden coat flashing between one shade of green and another with instinctual thrill.

Gauthier, an ear flicking then to the peculiar sound of a light clinking, followed its din with a swinging gaze to a small creature and its rhythmic, smooth pace. Almost, almost like Luca. He’d never had the chance of discovering what the spotted-cat meat tasted like, but he had a mind to test his chances again today. His tongue rode the rigid line of his teeth as he hunkered down in the dune-grasses, watching as the thing approached to pass.

But what of its value? The long-bodied creature and its speed, its nimbleness, perhaps just as beneficial to him as his other leopard acquaintance when vigilance is more important than flavor. With a cantankerous grunt he rose to his feet once more, his tail rattling in its arc. "You draw much attention to yourself with your… adornments." He uttered lowly, observing the trinkets about the leopard’s neck. "Attention you may not want in this place." Attention from starved - or even simply gluttonous - predators.

@Mundi

Art © Ryuu

Looming there along the path, a beast most foul, it's darkened smile betraying horrific ideas, its towering fair making the wandering cat appear all the tinier by comparison. He made a serpentine loop before the great lion, curious and listening closely, his gaze unblinking on the others. Amusement lit his expression with a vicious delight, his grin widening into something warm and inviting. He flicked one of the trinkets around his neck playfully, the soft clinking filling the air between them.

“Ah, but you see,”Mundi purred, taking a step closer, his tone smooth, light and teasing, “It’s not just about drawing attention, my friend. It’s about who you draw it from. And I must say, I’m rather flattered that I’ve caught the eye of someone so… discerning.”

He gave a small, graceful bow, a gesture that was more cheeky than formal, his gaze never leaving Gauthier’s. His pads hissed across the sands as he did another quick sauntering loop, his dancer steps hinting at his powers of swift retreat.

"You have an eye for quality, I can tell. Only a creature with taste could appreciate the finer things in life—be it trinkets or… companions.”

@Gauthier

Strip out of any illusionary attire Into the smoke of the eucalyptus fire

Cords that Knot & threads that bind Tell the tale of Humankind From long ago into future returning All wisdoms from lifetimes learnt Out of the cave the Shining Ones rise A hope awoke in their eyes We weave a new myth into the Timelines Oh We’re tying the stars to the mountains The mountains to the stars. We are so high That we can see beyond the wall of our own horizons Tying the stars to the loom quivers full of courage our blood lightening

code by corvus || art by twyn

delete，

hail to the king
kneel to the crown

royal flames will carve a path to chaos
bringing daylight to the night
let the water flow with shades of red
arrows black out the light

It is about who you draw the attention of, the jungle-cat says, and it is no less amusing to the gluttonous fiend. Who, indeed. But the matter of his being discerning is one accolade that he is unsure of, lest it be the charisma of one who does not want eaten. Regardless, they both know that spry little cats such as this are easier to see (and in this case, hear) than catch. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Gauthier had tried to eat one, and it certainly would not have been the last.

Alas he restrains himself with a pleasant enough grin as much as one can muster – that crooked, casual thing that is not quite as genuine as genuinely pretended for the sake of conversation. The carnivore in him watched closely as @Mundi took great sweeping steps in a bow and sort of dance, trained to seek fault, to peer into the ease of movement for the slight hitch of a poorly healed break or smart of pain. Any vulnerability that would make him a liability enough to rest more peacefully in his belly than in the warmth of the rainforest.

There were none to be concerned of, bittersweet of an analysis as it was, and in his findings he found it acceptable enough to hear the creature out. "No desire for trinkets myself," he declined, preferred to the quiet of stalking and the least amount of baubles that could snag or rip haphazardly in the heat of battle. Of his choice in a companion, were it a word in one way, he could be commended for an astute observation despite the empty chill at his side that would never feel righted. "I come here to look for those who would suit our pride. There is another like you in our ranks, fleet-footed and sharp. Am I wrong to assume you possess similar skills?" Just as slippery? Just as sneaky? "This is a volatile place. For that, we must also be formidable." In our own ways.

Art © Ryuu