Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned
Ronin
"3 yrs old, no bonus"
He was late, he had heard the call and he knew that he had to be there. Yet, he had taken care, making sure that his cubs were safe. Pride challenges were a violent affair and often tumultuous at best. This one….even more so, but he didn’t know that yet. As the Sovereign made his way through the frozen swamp, his mate at his side, scents would collide with him, the sound of multiple fights would have his pace quicken until he broke through the swampy foliage to the only real fighting ground in the Mire. Lips would curl as he paused at seeing all of these strangers in their home. The scent of different prides and rogues would assault his senses, making ears fold back.
Mismatched gaze would observe for a moment before he moved towards Kinki. Something was wrong, he felt it in his gut and the need to protect his ward as well as his cubs off in the distance was strong. Perhaps it was a sixth sense that the warmonger had acquired through his years of fighting but he did not see this challenge ending without a lot of blood. Something he wanted to protect his young charge from. He was somewhat relieved to find that @Myra had taken a protective stance in front of his ward and moved to stand next to the young bard. “Kinki.” Stern, but low. Meant to snag her attention immediately by the seriousness of his tone alone. “Find your sisters, watch them.” He rumbled quietly, vocals for her ears and hers only. His voice would drop further, muzzle brushing against her ear as he told her their exact location. The twins would be nestled in the thick jungle undergrowth, outside of the Mire, Kinki would recognize the landmark as the place they’d went to often in her youth to practice stealth and hunting. “Go. Now.” A command, as his gaze shifted from her to look over the strangers again. Myra would tell them to leave, a threat that seemed as if she was ready to back up. If she wasn’t, she’d better be ready. A low growl rumbling in his chest as long claws flexed into the frozen mud, a warning to those watching. They should listen. Ronin would glance to his mate, a flash of bloodlust flickering in his gaze, he was ready for war and he knew she would be too.
Eyes would shift to find the form of a lion smothered in mud from the swamp, eyes would narrow ever so slightly. Yet, his gaze would continue on, as if he wasn’t too suspicious. The scarred and still healing woman would be found next, for her, he would linger heavily. Shifting forward ever so slightly. She spoke lowly so he could not hear what was being said. Common among pride challenges but something was off, he could feel it in his gut. Ronin would take two steps forward, past his ward and to his comrades side. Where were the members of the Mire? Where the fuck was @Erna when he needed her temper and eagerness for bloodshed? “They aren’t going to listen, take your pick.” He would comment quietly to Myra. Eyes would briefly look to @Zelda and would raise a brow. What the fuck had happened? However, he couldn’t focus on that fight. He had other things to worry about.
Ronin would flick his tail, letting it brush against Slaine as he moved forward. A farewell, but also silent ‘good luck’ to his love. They’d both be bloodied after this, but their children would be safe. The warmonger did not try to hide who his target was, mismatched gaze landed heavily on the Sigrun Prince, smothered in swamp mud. It didn’t matter who he was, the very fact that he had so boldly rolled in their mud meant he was an easy target. Foolish prince. He should have rolled in mud not so easily tied to the Mire. It made him a target. One that Ronin would eagerly take advantage of, despite the clearly ready to battle Aquila being nearby damn near frothing at the mouth. In a blur, another figure would come, Erna, finally. She wasted no time, flying by him and firmly latching onto the blind, scarred woman.
Moving forward quickly, he would eat the distance between he and his target, jaws hanging loose and ready to strike. Ears were still tucked into his mane from earlier, with his head at shoulder height. Charging forth, Ronin would feign like he was going to move to his adversaries right, but at the last second he would change course. Limbs bending his frame lower and then pushing him upward and slightly to his adversaries left. Jaws would reach out in an attempt to grasp and hold onto flesh while claws would strike out in an attempt to find flesh and rip downward. His intent was to use momentum to jar the Prince, to cause his balance to falter and perhaps use that downward bend and upward surge to grasp at more tender areas.
Ronin vs. @Myrkvi
minor maim/
Round 1 / 5
Hits:
Dodges:
Luck:
He was late, he had heard the call and he knew that he had to be there. Yet, he had taken care, making sure that his cubs were safe. Pride challenges were a violent affair and often tumultuous at best. This one….even more so, but he didn’t know that yet. As the Sovereign made his way through the frozen swamp, his mate at his side, scents would collide with him, the sound of multiple fights would have his pace quicken until he broke through the swampy foliage to the only real fighting ground in the Mire. Lips would curl as he paused at seeing all of these strangers in their home. The scent of different prides and rogues would assault his senses, making ears fold back.
Mismatched gaze would observe for a moment before he moved towards Kinki. Something was wrong, he felt it in his gut and the need to protect his ward as well as his cubs off in the distance was strong. Perhaps it was a sixth sense that the warmonger had acquired through his years of fighting but he did not see this challenge ending without a lot of blood. Something he wanted to protect his young charge from. He was somewhat relieved to find that @Myra had taken a protective stance in front of his ward and moved to stand next to the young bard. “Kinki.” Stern, but low. Meant to snag her attention immediately by the seriousness of his tone alone. “Find your sisters, watch them.” He rumbled quietly, vocals for her ears and hers only. His voice would drop further, muzzle brushing against her ear as he told her their exact location. The twins would be nestled in the thick jungle undergrowth, outside of the Mire, Kinki would recognize the landmark as the place they’d went to often in her youth to practice stealth and hunting. “Go. Now.” A command, as his gaze shifted from her to look over the strangers again. Myra would tell them to leave, a threat that seemed as if she was ready to back up. If she wasn’t, she’d better be ready. A low growl rumbling in his chest as long claws flexed into the frozen mud, a warning to those watching. They should listen. Ronin would glance to his mate, a flash of bloodlust flickering in his gaze, he was ready for war and he knew she would be too.
Eyes would shift to find the form of a lion smothered in mud from the swamp, eyes would narrow ever so slightly. Yet, his gaze would continue on, as if he wasn’t too suspicious. The scarred and still healing woman would be found next, for her, he would linger heavily. Shifting forward ever so slightly. She spoke lowly so he could not hear what was being said. Common among pride challenges but something was off, he could feel it in his gut. Ronin would take two steps forward, past his ward and to his comrades side. Where were the members of the Mire? Where the fuck was @Erna when he needed her temper and eagerness for bloodshed? “They aren’t going to listen, take your pick.” He would comment quietly to Myra. Eyes would briefly look to @Zelda and would raise a brow. What the fuck had happened? However, he couldn’t focus on that fight. He had other things to worry about.
Ronin would flick his tail, letting it brush against Slaine as he moved forward. A farewell, but also silent ‘good luck’ to his love. They’d both be bloodied after this, but their children would be safe. The warmonger did not try to hide who his target was, mismatched gaze landed heavily on the Sigrun Prince, smothered in swamp mud. It didn’t matter who he was, the very fact that he had so boldly rolled in their mud meant he was an easy target. Foolish prince. He should have rolled in mud not so easily tied to the Mire. It made him a target. One that Ronin would eagerly take advantage of, despite the clearly ready to battle Aquila being nearby damn near frothing at the mouth. In a blur, another figure would come, Erna, finally. She wasted no time, flying by him and firmly latching onto the blind, scarred woman.
Moving forward quickly, he would eat the distance between he and his target, jaws hanging loose and ready to strike. Ears were still tucked into his mane from earlier, with his head at shoulder height. Charging forth, Ronin would feign like he was going to move to his adversaries right, but at the last second he would change course. Limbs bending his frame lower and then pushing him upward and slightly to his adversaries left. Jaws would reach out in an attempt to grasp and hold onto flesh while claws would strike out in an attempt to find flesh and rip downward. His intent was to use momentum to jar the Prince, to cause his balance to falter and perhaps use that downward bend and upward surge to grasp at more tender areas.
Ronin vs. @Myrkvi
minor maim/
Round 1 / 5
Hits:
Rolling 6d20: 7 + 13 + 2 + 19 + 12 + 17
Dodges:
Rolling 4d20: 2 + 15 + 10 + 5
Luck:
Rolling 5d20: 10 + 13 + 7 + 1 + 11
code by corvus / image by kim