What fresh hell is this?

Willow comes to stand off to the side of the commotion, uninterested in joining the chaos but quite intrigued nonetheless. Her tail sways gently as she watches the scene unfold and lions begin to clash for.. love? She isn't sure, but it leaves a sour taste in her mouth regardless. Willow settles onto her haunches to watch the members of her pride fight, curious as to whether or not Ghyslaine will show up and help out where she can. The lioness isn't a fighter by any means and will not be joining the chaos, but perhaps she can provide insight or something stupid like that.

ART BY YUMPY, CODE BY LARS

Stay put. She had been hearing that for almost the entirety of her life - stay low, stay safe, stay hidden. But what had happened the last time she stayed low, hidden, minded the security of the den and the whimpering of cubs while the onslaught raged inside her home?

Mutter died, that's what.

If Yrsa had been there to protect her, would it have helped? Would it have stopped the tragedy in its tracks?

Yrsa had begun exploring the places where the swamp didn't touch as of late, those sprawling grounds that thralled with their vibrant greenery, their shifting shadows, the passing hiss of plants as her spine slid beneath them slick as a paw on a wet rock.

Today she did not - would not - stay put. She had followed the trail her father wore in from the mire to the pit, keeping low, safe, hidden. The Pit was farther than she had ever gone, had ever dreamed of going, and even now she marvels at it as her father collides with a spotted stranger.

She remained hidden for a long time beneath the shadow of a rock, creeping along the haunches of those too bewildered to seek the cub tip-toeing the length of their tails. Her eyes were stead on the extent of the coliseum, the brutality her father waged - her little chest swollen with pride for every clash of claw and teeth, a wince for every groan of pain.

But there, settled beside another maculate lion seated, sat a grey cub just as little big as she. Yrsa snorted. She didn't look like the big piebald man, but she assumed he was related to the beast trying to beat up Vater, and the cub was either one of their ilk or a hostage.

The little bear stopped behind a speckled white lioness (@Patchouli): though Yrsa had never met her, she smelled of the Mire and it was good enough for her. In the shelter of the woman's body, she was guarded from the fights that erupted, but stood plainly enough for @Léonie to see. "Wrm jubelst d'zu?" The gravelly note of her voice calls under the roar of the battles beyond, and the words are slight and gargled, but her body speaks for her: her hair ridged along her spine, her little muscles taut, needle-claws flexing the ground.

German: who do you cheer for?

Barb exp
+5 watch a fight(Antares vs Alaric)
+5 watch a fight(Slaine vs Leander)

She was lucky that Amaryllis always seemed like it provided constant entertainment for those who enjoyed to watch and take part of a good fight. Being very frequent. Enough to never leave Alma too bored, suffering a monotonous existence. She let an smirk sneak on her clay lips, letting her left fang poke as she let her rump collapse in the Arena's dust. She would like to fight but this time she wouldnt, atleast not on her starting it. But welcoming anyone to do so with her. There was no fun than taking a piece of the fun right? "Kick their asses guys!!" Speaking loudly, on purpose to perhaps trigger a fight towards herself. Both Leander and Antares had her suport as she watched both fights.

//Open for fights!

ART BY CLOUDY, CODE BY LARS

Branco had always been the rat of the family. Willowy and phantom-like. He possessed less of the valiant desire for head-on battle than two of his brothers; instead, a man of the shadows, opportunistic. Like a crow that waited by an injured beast. There was nothing honorable about him.

Still, he did the honorable thing and made an appearance in the wake of a challenge directed to his kin. For entirely selfish reasons of course. He slathered himself with rich earth until only the odd peek of silver shone through, and his scent identity was mostly undeterminable. It seemed his brother had an enemy.

Still, he is not the only one who had such a plan; for he can smell mud. Not the toe-squished kind, but the purposefully bathed kind. Pink gaze scans the barren landscape, considering from a sleuth perspective where somebody might like to hide - perhaps in that lonesome tree?

Branco is trying to find @Zelda

Rolling 1d10: 4

+10 Learn something about pride/group/family relations
+5 Study the landscape of an area
+5 Practice disguising your appearance

_{art by yumpy}

Yikes. That was all she could think as she watched @Antares fight off @Alaric in the effort of gaining her. If only he had been challenged by someone younger and less experienced but alas, Alaric was showing more and more how willing he was to fight to keep what was "his". On one paw, she didn't mind that her High Sovereign was fighting off Antares because truly at the end of the day, she was here for the excitement, adrenaline and the drama. Three things that she was easily receiving here and now in the form of a challenge for little ole Zelda. Not only was it now a challenge for her but it seemed that Ecrosia was willing to scream and holler for one of the Oasis lionesses. Zelda's sinister smile only proved to darker and deepen, aggressively buying into the beauty of chaos that surrounded her below. Though when her gaze swept to a few of the newcomers she spotted a very handsome old fellow (too handsome to be that old, really) staring RIGHT AT HER. Zelda narrowed her eyes and made a point to roll her head to continue staring at the fight for her presence. If @Branco wanted to truly find her, he could come to her -- she wasn't budging. — What did you expect? — Zelda has been LOCATED but refuses to move.

^{MANIP BY YUMPY !}

She is young and fit, a prime example of something worth fighting for - her flesh, despite it's mud-caked flaw, shapely yet trim. He has been alive long enough to know the sort of women men would fawn over, and something told him that this youngster was watching her fate unfurl in battle.

Branco comes to stand beneath the twisted branches she loitered, a pink tongue rolling lazily across blush lips. "Schöne Frau," beautiful woman, "What do you hide from?" lips pull at the edges, a smirk that is anything but quiet, ears pushed forward through wispy, curled mane.

@Zelda

_{art by yumpy}

Sleuth exp
+10 Remain undetected in a large thread (5+ characters)
+5 Infiltrate a group thread without getting caught
Barbarian exp
+5 observe a fight

Ragna was late to the challenges but better later than never. The lioness hides, slippers into the vegetation, using the dark and everything to keep herself away from unwanted attention. She knew many if not almost all Amaryllis seemed to hate her family, her name was hunted. This forced her to be cautious and stay hidden in this kind of events, where anyone could attack her. She could defend herself but she wasnt looking for injuries, not anymore. She hopped not to be found. While she watched the fights go. From the Oasis lions and Ecrosia Mire. This might be useful, a good thing atleast for her persecuted family. She hopped this would go well for the Oasis lions.

She is attempting to hide

code / artwork

Léonie’s focus had been on the main event, but as another challenger emerged, her attention was pulled away. She looked at the speckled lioness and watched as her uncle was quick to engage her. The ferocity in his movement suggested something more than simple annoyance, but the grey child did not yet understand what Halimede was to her uncle …

Intrigued, she turned her head around to see who else was watching them now. That was when she saw her — another cub, tucked away behind what looked to be her spotted babysitter. Léonie shifted on her paws, angling her body slightly towards the boyish looking youth without getting up. A question was raised, but not in a language she understood, so she shook her striped head while she regarded her with an interested gleam in her eyes. She belonged to the Mire, but that wasn’t enough to squash Léonie’s curiosity.

The way she bristled did not escape Léonie’s eye. Whoever she was, she was tense. Léonie, however, didn’t mirror her stance. Rather, she cocked her head at the other, her white tuft lazily curling behind her. Had she thought the cub would’ve understood her, the Oasis daughter might’ve asked for her name. Since she had no reason to believe she could, she simply watched, wondering if the girl’s interest in her would dwindle now.

@Yrsa

coded by flea | artwork by ale-tie

And OH does she laugh. A drawn out ladylike chuckle as she shakes her head, amused by his stupidity and his bold assumptions. @Branco approaches with beautiful words and bountiful locks and she cannot help but feel that he has her all wrong already. He must be new. Oh, my dear... she coos quietly as she turns her head downwards to look at him plainly but with much delight, I do not hide from anything. I merely spectate from a viewpoint that few think to indulge themselves with. I avoid the stupid questions when I make myself "nearly" untraceable. Zelda would never considerate herself one to shirk away from anyone, especially not a challenge when she had told him straight forward that she wanted this. No, this was more about her keeping her distance. — What did you expect? — Zelda has been LOCATED but refuses to move.

^{MANIP BY YUMPY !}

Her laugh does something to fuel him. Not in the innocent way. His chin dropping as the smirk grew wider across silky lips, a viscous glint forming in the glassy windows of pale vision. "Pity," and he tuts his tongue against the roof of a thirsty mouth, "I had hoped you were going to be more fun than that."

What a disappointment she was. Life was all about stupid questions and social dances. And yet, as the tall, slender figure shifts to leave, feigning a lack of interest, he pauses mid stride, "You should keep out of the mud," german accent thick, a cunning glance cast atop a rippling shoulder. "What other value do you think they fight for?" a jeer, a suggestion the girl was little other than her sculpted figure and pretty eyes.

@Zelda

_{art by yumpy}