The suspense had his throat in a vice-grip; to continue on without @Saga, one of his biggest supporters, did not bear thinking about. Stoicism was something that the Sigrún were taught to master from an early age - do not let them see you swear, do not let them see you suffer - but under the surface Magnus was most troubled. A welcome distraction came as @Roan approached, victorious from his own challenge. The obsidian brute could not bring himself to smile - the stakes were still too high - but he would, at least, offer congratulations to his ally. "A battle well fought, my friend. Congratulations." In the same breath, he would offer clarification. "That man is an enemy of our family. He is a Rike. Saga will take his life if she can, and I do not doubt that he would do the same to her." It was with great relief, then, that he would witness his sister pull away from the staggering form of Eulalia, flesh and blood dripping from her jaws. Victorious. Too consumed is he in his repose to notice the calls for a medic; that is, until Saga made a beeline for.... @Nero. Magnus immediately rose to his paws, pace quick as he sought to stand alongside his sister as they waited for medic attention. The stress, clearly, had been too much for the boy.

irish

Well that escalated quickly; crimson lanterns thirstily noting the presence of family or pride tension that became a death match. He had witnessed the hatred of Scilla Lagoon before, during a war, though he had yet to work out exactly who it was they despised so much - though he overhears nearby chattering from a Lagoon male (Magnus), and it’s confirmed. Rike.

Time passes more quickly than one could anticipate, Alaric (an old spar partner) failing his intentions to ensnare the hollow, and the scary lady eventually tearing the throat out of the rogue male. R.I.P. Spine quivers, thankful he hadn’t stepped on the spooky queen’s toes, and deciding to take his leave before she can find a reason to slaughter him too.

— exit

+5 x2 Learn something interesting about a pride or family
+5 x2 Observe a fight
+5 x2 Observe a fight _{— code}

He was craning his neck in search of his wives when a familiar emerald pelt brushed against his own. Sahir let out a possessive grunt of greeting as they watched the conflict, which descended pretty quickly.

"احرص. هذا يمكن أن يصبح خطيرا," he warned her lowly. Soon enough, the woman had slain her opponent. He narrowed his gaze with interest as he looked around, half expecting the entire crowd to come to blows with each other over their perspective sides, though it seemed some had the right idea of leaving while they could. Sahir would stay put by Kismet's side until he was confident they were out of harm's way.

---

-exit via fade into BG- @Kismet
+10 - Observe a fight (for OH)
+10 - Exercise to gain strength
+10 - Observe a fight (Saga/Eul)

_{BG — ART — CODE}

It is Morrigan standing with Magnus and Hrefna that Odhgrimm has taken such a notice of. The white-striped woman is the very same that Sunníva attacked in the Brook. At that time the salty lioness had been standing with a black-eyed yearling with a pelt so dark that shadows would not show, and today she's with an older lion (the young's father?) of similar appearance.

Though from this distance the Rike cannot be sure just how dark the black cat's eyes are, the vertical scar that runs across his orbital socket is unmistakable. This Sigrún may not have been a familiar face before now, but stories have been told in their clan of Magnus, and as such even the golden boy among them is labeled as an enemy.

It seems to the Rike that an enemy is to be found wherever he looks, and it's beginning to worry him. Opposition (and losses) have always been expected from their coming here, from their devotion to tracking Sigrún to the ends of the earth- but Odhgrimm had not been prepared for a legion of they and their allegiances.

Cries for a medic distracts him, ears swiveling moments before his eyes drift through the crowd toward the source. It's her white coat that catches his eye first, then just as quickly they locate the reason for her shouts. A pale lion, young, still growing if his mane was any indication, downed by the fitful movements of muscles seizing.

Idly eyeing them, the Assassin considers the buchu and devil's claw that he has stashed in the tangles of his multi-hued mane. Both would benefit the child, the aforementioned especially for its antispasmodic properties. Doctor Odhgrimm would add in chaff flower, too, if he were recommending treatment, but he's not, and he doesn't plan on it under these circumstances.

Under different circumstances? He would have helped.

Attention casually roving away from them, the lion focuses on the main event. Gaze flickering between the pairs of brawling lions, he watches closely as the fights steamroll to a conclusion. Alaric falls first, and when he does the wheat male stays down long enough for Obsidian's leader to affirm his victory.

More interesting to Odhgrimm than the results of their spat is where both lions go immediately after. Their would-be king does not flee from the scene as one might expect. Instead it is to the side of a pink lioness that he slinks, and the choice makes a brow rise high on the grey's masked face. Who else might he have been trying to impress today?

The Hollow's ruler, alternately, makes a straight line for Magnus and his crew, cluing the Rike in to even more allies at the Sigrún's back. That made for the Sigrún stronghold, their neighboring sea-pride, those of the Brook and the Hollows in cahoots? If he's counting right, his clan is severely outnumbered.

Tsk-ing out of the corner of his mouth, the grey lion returns his hardened gaze to the remaining battle. Eulalia nor the chimera female are holding back, both ragged with wounds and roiling with murderous intent. It's a deadly dance, and it's conclusion leaves a body crumpled on the stony ground. Eulalia is the body. Not the Sigrún. A Rike. Their jarl.

There's a moment of quiet, where the world's rotation pauses on its axis, and Odhgrimm realizes that he's holding his breath. Sighing, he exhales, and in a rush the clamor of voices from those gathered returns. Green eyes are fixed on the too-still mane of blonde, and from this angle their Jarl appears only to be sleeping. But there's no more rise in his flank, no shiver of a shoulder muscle where a fly lands.

"In my absence, you will look to Odhgrimm for direction." Death is nothing more than a permanent absence, the Rike well know. Jarl now rests on the grey lion, a great weight against the blades of his shoulders, a target. Muzzle crinkling, the Assassin quietly snarls where he crouches, rage warming his belly and bristling his hair.

Below, he watches as Saga staggers toward the boy that he'd noticed earlier, the one needing help. And again medic! lifts in urgency, plucking at him because he is medic. But they'll kill him, one or two or all of these Sigrún or their compatriots. If he shows his face here, or in a month, or in a year, they'll kill him. So the only thing to do is remain out of sight, out of mind, and prepare.

Moving off, the Rike makes a quiet, guarded -exit-.

coded by flea + background credit

(2/2)+10 Observe a challenge and learn the results (alaric vs. roan) (double exp from calypso)
(2/2)+10 Observe a challenge and learn the results (saga vs. eulalia) (double exp from calypso)

Keir is too engulfed in trying to make sure @Nero doesn't harm himself to realize the fight for the death was over. But once @Saga is next to them would his mind begin to put in the pieces; she had won. Blue gaze would look up at the bloodied woman, watching her for a few moments and really getting a good look at her. He could see her beaten and battered body, but not just from this fight. No, she truly held the image of battle-ready and never giving in or up, and it was something Keir felt a bit of admiration for.

Blinking a couple of times to bring him back to reality would Keir then shift his attention toward the colossal lion that came to Saga's side, watching him for just enough time to realize he were no threat to any of them gathered. With a huff would the Mire Heir look around them, and not seeing any medica would he rise to all fours and release a bellowing call: "WE NEED HELP!!" He knew there was enough chaos going around and that perhaps the others' calls were unheard, but he would be damned if he were going to be ignored.

image & table by gunner

The Valour girl was too shell shocked to even move her legs. The catastrophe that had formed inside of her brain had began to unleash a scenario that no one would have prepared her for. Scared, reeling in the panic that came after dealing with such a traumatic moment back home. A moment where she had barely heard her name being called and it took a few drowning seconds before turning her head to see @Kallan looking just as dumbfounded as she felt she looked. Nevermind the lingering question as to where they had come from, Juliette was (perhaps not showing it presently) happy to see a familiar face. Following after them without question but perhaps at a much slower pace than normal; as though the ground might crack beneath her paws.

She'd been so focused on following an old friend that she had hardly realized that it had even ended. So focused on making sure that she landed each step she took and took deep, even breaths that she hadn't begun to realize what was going on around her.

^{ART BY AURORA, CODE BY LARS}

Avana could not take her eyes off of her brother for majority of the fight. Only when another fight erupted on the sidelines did her attention waver for a moment. This one seemed even more brutal between the ashen woman and the strange male. Neither were of familiarity to her, so the strawberry pixie wasn't particularly invested in the fight like she was for her brother's. But still, the other fight appeared to have higher stakes. In the end, the maned girl couldn't help but split her attention just enough to watch them both, doing her best not to wince right along as the blood flowed in all directions. Roan's fight would be her priority, but she could not deny the gruesomeness of the death match either.

Those around her had remained quiet, all presumably engulfed in watching their king fight. Avana could finally release the tension from her chest when her brother finally knocked his opponent down. Even if they had both gone down in the end, Roan had managed to scramble back up just in time to finish things. Knowing that he wasn't the type to fight dirty, the younger Hodari was proud to watch him simply walk away from his opponent. The fight was over. There was no need to worsen the wound. As the mauve lion made his way over towards their nephew, the maned woman was ready to pick up her herbs and hop right over as well, intent on looking over her brother's injuries. However, the screams of another caused the medic's head to whip around without hesitation. A white woman screamed for medical assistance as a young boy convulsed on the ground. Avana's eyes grew wide, mentally weighing the severity of who she should help. Her brother or this boy? Well, while Roan would definitely need treatment to his wounds, especially that one across his belly, the maned girl knew that her mother was likely still inside the Hollow. Between Hanneth and Fae, Roan would be fine, but this other boy, he needed help now.

Avana quickly grabbed up the herbs she had brought with her before darting over towards @Nero while he was surrounded by onlookers. She recognized @Keir as the male who had fought Roan for the Hollow the first time around, but @Alizabeth was a stranger. The scent of Scilla grew stronger as she neared the yearling, though, which made Avana feel just a little bit more comfortable with butting into the situation. Even if they were strangers to her, they had called for help, right? Well, she was here to help. Just before she reached the small group, though, would the death match come to an end as well. The sight of @Saga ripping out the male's throat would forever be seared into Avana's mind before the High Sovereign soon came to Nero's side as well. "I'm a medic," the Hodari offered quickly to the trio that surrounded the albino lion once her mouth was free of her herbs. She wouldn't waste time waiting for their permission to help the boy as her mismatched gaze took a quick look over him. It was some sort of seizure, which there really wasn't much one could do for it. She'd look to Keir as he cradled Nero's head. "Keep doing that. We need to keep him from hurting himself as he rides it out." There was a firmness to the Hodari's voice as she continued to train her attention over the pale boy's convulsing body, yet, she still felt helpless to aid him. Digging through her herbs, Avana knew that there had to be something that could help. Finally, an herb came to mind, finding a few leaves of lemon balm among the mess. As best she could, the medic would attempt to put a couple of the leaves on Nero's tongue. "It might help calm him down," the strawberry lass offered to anyone who might be listening, or anyone who might be questioning her actions. But what else? This wasn't a cut she could slap some herbs on or a stomach ache she could tell someone to chew on a root for. This was a body working against someone. Keep him calm and keep him safe. The words ran through her mind before she realized what she was doing next. Avana attempted to quickly hop on top of Nero as he lay on his side, simply trying to keep his body steady as the seizure wracked through his small body. "Talk to him," she instructed firmly to whoever was around him. "Calmly. Talk to him. Make him feel safe." The screaming was not helping the situation. Maybe now that both fights were over, the chaos would settle and Nero could come back to his loved ones. Avana just hopes she wouldn't get mauled for trying to be a lion-sized weighted blanket for the Lagoon lion.

Table & Reference by Amanda | Base by Drifty | Background from unsplash

The gladiators leaped into their battlements, their blows and blood filling the Hollows; each purchase reverberating drums of bellicosity and symphonic ferocity. Bellowing adrenaline, keeping their audience captive and thirsty for more. Aidoneus was far too curious to turn away, and she scarcely caught his arrival. @Gauthier ‘s voice pulled her eyes from the would-be kings, and she fought a small laugh at the sight of him.

Had I known you’d be joining us, I would have brought flamingo.

A morsel, a snack—for what was a show without refreshments?

She beamed, as she always had. Simply afire by the company she’d found herself swimming in. I know him, the explanation came with a swift, small gesturing to Alaric, pausing as @Esmeree sidles nearer. Aidoneus leaned forward, passing her a parting of her lips, their corners lifted in elation finding another familiar face. And you—I also know you.

Transfixed then – lost to her companions, those gelid eyes were glued to the tallow figure of Eulalia. Her mouth lost its’ jubilation, deepening the corners tightly, grim. Watch your tongue. Kind and generous. And there he went – so generously, so kindly embracing wicked throes of vainglorious violence. Self-manifested, his fate growing dire and the place of shadows lifted to greet him. Was she gladdened to see one so cruel be taken so? Peace tangled into relief, knowing at least one cruel-hound lay beaten, his eradicator staggered from the ring and that was more than she could bear.

A hollow feeling tangled at her stomach, a fluttering that devoured any sense of appetite or excitement. Willowy legs collected a tremor, and she found herself leaning against @Amaroq for a sense of steadiness. Aidoneus drew in a heavy inhale, I’ve seen all I’ve cared to see, and then some.

I suppose I shall see you both at the next hunt. She paused, eyes finding Gauthier and Amaroq, clipping between both, offering them a shared farewell. Finding ground, she retreated from her tribe. An uneasy smile lit fleetingly across her expression as she turned towards @Alaric and @Esmeree, I’ll see you both at home.

exit

it was impossible to hold back the sob that wrenched from her throat as she fell in to his embrace, even if on some level she hated that they always ended up like this. would she ever not be a disaster? she hated, too, that she would have more bad news for him, that she would have to tell him about everything that had changed. again. "i'm s-s-" but she cannot even get the apologize out and she swallows it with another soft sob, the tears bringing another wave of throbbing pain from her head.

happiness had become little more than a pipe dream for the grief-stricken zero and there were times she felt like her presence was a poison in his life. hiccup deserved joy -- not this constant turmoil she dumped at his paws every damn time they met.

still she is not strong enough to turn away from his embrace, she is not strong enough to stand alone. physically weak, yes, but it ran much deeper than that. a bone deep exhaustion had settled in to her bones, and when her best friend mentioned his den she pulled back just long enough to realize that the hollows were safe.

and then...

her breathing hitched as her gaze drifted across saga, locked in a battle to the death. for a moment asteria was riveted to the sight, but when the chimeric woman tore out his throat she turned her face away and buried in back in to her friends chest. "please, p-please let's go." unaware of the drama unfolding in the aftermath of the battle she would stagger to all fours, leaning heavily against her friend as she hoped he would lead them to the safety of his den.

-exit w/hiccup?-

_{BG — CODE}

The obsidian goliath would let himself continue to plunge and be enraptured by the fight. Morbidly delighted when a second one broke out, the cavern's maw opening wide and asking for its feast. There was an immense violence that thrummed from that second fight, something deep woven below each movement and slash of claw. Mugo was deeply invested but lulled back to earth by @Mordecai's voice. His face didn't turn away from what he watched but there was a flick of his eyes towards the company at his side, a flash of vivid pink and twitch of silver in his dark face. This one- He spoke of the fight to the death he watched so intently now. -not a clue.

He inhaled deeply, almost as if it pained himself, while watching the unknown lion Saga bring this man to meet his maker. Whomever that may be. There was an unmistakable flash of red and the fierce, quick, movements of the fight ceased all at once like the pair had run into a wall. It was over and Mugo could at last look away. Seems Roan wasn't fighting any further himself. That burgundy wine lion from the other fight lives here with his family. I'd guess he's here protecting them. And Mugo was now a bit more gladdened he didn't tred further into the Hollows when he first found his way here and met Roan.

Mugo Hodari- pleasure. He greeted with his name at last, simple and casual while he was unbothered by the scent of blood thickening in the air and the panic rising still in the air as shouts rang out around Nero. His gaze flickered away from Mordecai to that scene. Any clue what that's about? He gestured with his nose that way.