He's admittedly pleased when Eric's eyes gleam with some kind of edge that wasn't there before. He gets up, stretches his hind leggies, and Ambrose looks on like a proud dad. "I've been called a wiseass before, but never wise." He smiles that self-important smile again, but it's obvious he's pleased with the outcome. For a moment, the male had him worried. He starts lumbering beside Eric while the fog around them is still spraying out of the cracked earth. "I won't ask why you were out in the ass end of nowhere in the first place." He starts. Water under the bridge. Isn't that what he said? "I've been down that road, you know. Albeit with a bit more violence and far more delirious raving, but I've been down it all the same." The desert is already heating up, its seemingly infinite expanse stretching before him. But somehow, it seems to lose its harsh edges with his new compatriot by his side. "I know you're... probably a roaring drunk. No, you definitely are. But, hey—if you ever feel the need to inebriated again, I can mix you up a pretty killer fruit fermentation. Maybe you can even tell me some of your jokes." Mostly so he can use them on his paramours. "Drinking alone is like... singing a duet alone. You know?"
Character of the Month
Thread of the Month
Who's Who
Pride Challenges
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
Rank Challenges
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
Claim or Imprisonment Challenges
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
Dominance Matches
Maim Matches
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
Death Matches
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
July Y13
Summer
Summer is in full swing now, with clear skies, warm nights, and ample sunshine! As such, the deserts begin to grow dry, the shores remain a blissful escape, the north is spared with cooling winds, and humidity continues to rise in the jungle. Rain and storms are long forgotten troubles by now, which is both a virtue and a vice during the heat of the season.
Map & Calendar
Pridelands
Amaryllis' discovered prides
Outlaw Bands
outside the law
Exhale
03-24-2022, 02:30 PM
Ambrose listens intently as the palomino lion gets all existential on him. He's pretty sure he's accidentally broached some kind of sensitive topic, if the rather sentimental answer is anything to go off of. Is that what it's like to grow old? You spend your days souring in the sun, reflecting on the good old days as you return to the same dry, desolate spot in the desert like a turtle returning to its breeding ground. More like brooding ground, right? Ha. Still, he can't help but feel some sympathy for the pale lion. It seems like he has lost his mojo, or maybe he thinks he's lost his mojo. Ambrose enjoys his fermented alcohol as much as the next lion, but getting wasted out in the back of beyond? The man has midlife crisis written all over him. Luckily, he's here now, to invigorate him, of course, with his youthful spirit.
He's admittedly pleased when Eric's eyes gleam with some kind of edge that wasn't there before. He gets up, stretches his hind leggies, and Ambrose looks on like a proud dad. "I've been called a wiseass before, but never wise." He smiles that self-important smile again, but it's obvious he's pleased with the outcome. For a moment, the male had him worried. He starts lumbering beside Eric while the fog around them is still spraying out of the cracked earth. "I won't ask why you were out in the ass end of nowhere in the first place." He starts. Water under the bridge. Isn't that what he said? "I've been down that road, you know. Albeit with a bit more violence and far more delirious raving, but I've been down it all the same." The desert is already heating up, its seemingly infinite expanse stretching before him. But somehow, it seems to lose its harsh edges with his new compatriot by his side. "I know you're... probably a roaring drunk. No, you definitely are. But, hey—if you ever feel the need to inebriated again, I can mix you up a pretty killer fruit fermentation. Maybe you can even tell me some of your jokes." Mostly so he can use them on his paramours. "Drinking alone is like... singing a duet alone. You know?"
He's admittedly pleased when Eric's eyes gleam with some kind of edge that wasn't there before. He gets up, stretches his hind leggies, and Ambrose looks on like a proud dad. "I've been called a wiseass before, but never wise." He smiles that self-important smile again, but it's obvious he's pleased with the outcome. For a moment, the male had him worried. He starts lumbering beside Eric while the fog around them is still spraying out of the cracked earth. "I won't ask why you were out in the ass end of nowhere in the first place." He starts. Water under the bridge. Isn't that what he said? "I've been down that road, you know. Albeit with a bit more violence and far more delirious raving, but I've been down it all the same." The desert is already heating up, its seemingly infinite expanse stretching before him. But somehow, it seems to lose its harsh edges with his new compatriot by his side. "I know you're... probably a roaring drunk. No, you definitely are. But, hey—if you ever feel the need to inebriated again, I can mix you up a pretty killer fruit fermentation. Maybe you can even tell me some of your jokes." Mostly so he can use them on his paramours. "Drinking alone is like... singing a duet alone. You know?"