Ghyslaine

The waters seemed angry, as if the ocean had joined the rest of the land in a symphony of rage. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a promising storm blowing in, and the water slammed against the sand and rocks without any mercy. Ghyslaine had ducked into the large cavernous formation, hoping for a reprieve from the storms. She hoped that somehow this structure would provide some safety, however little...

It had started as a trickle, the water that had washed into the cavern. Then it was a larger stream, and slowly but surely, the water seemed to chase her. She moved further into the cavern, finally jumping up on some rocks, following a sheer path to a small ledge, where she would sit down, giving the water a rather disgusted look.

She let out a disgusted snarl, and then turned to look at the ledge, noticing that it was an opening into the rocks- like a cave within a cave. Well, she figured, whatever may be in there- so long as it didn’t bother her... she wasn’t going to bother it. Instead, she’d just wait out the storm.

As if nature answered that thought, she could just see through a crack in the rocks as lightning flashed across the sky, and the thunder rumbled again. Okay, maybe this was going to be a long afternoon.

@Andras

_{art by yumpy}

What a wretched time to make his return, but it would take a far larger storm than this to keep him from reuniting with his family. Though András cussed under his breath with every step, he knew just how important it was getting back to them, knowing now more than ever the Rike needed their allies. And who better, he thought, than the bedraggled soldier who'd once been beaten by a smaller, frailer woman? His time away had given him time to lick his wounds, at the very least, but left a lot more room for improvement. Improvement, András decided, that would be best practiced in these moments of disaster, a fury of nature that would perhaps pause the whims of lions and their warmongering.

Both however, he mulled, were entirely unpredictable.

A cave was not his first choice, but given the weather, it were one of his only options. Smart cats tended to stay on the drier high ground, but András had gotten caught at a sour time, and like @Ghyslaine he was forced deep into the tunnels. Though they were illuminated in a soft glow of light that leaked through the cracks above-head, there was an ominous rumbling of water, floods through lower-level systems that tore and drowned everything in their path. He had been just fortunate enough to be in a drier part of the cave, but even he knew not to overestimate its safety.

He was lucky he were so experienced and realistic then, perhaps, as he turned the corner and was greeted with a raging river.

It carved through the cave like a furious, silvery vein, tearing away the narrow ledge that lingered just above the water line. The soft rock of the higher cavern levels were not used to the battering of water, and chunks broke off and fell as it was eroded away. András would have been smarter to have turned back, but instead he persisted, narrowly losing his footing on the small footpath until it eventually widened; and just as it did, a loud roar of water claimed the ledge behind him, destroying his only path backward. He could do nothing now except move forward.

And then, a woman's scent. How unfortunate.

He looked forward, and could barely see her silhouette within the darkness of the cave. “Feel like going for a swim?” he said, his words tinged with humor despite his gruffness.

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Ghyslaine

She certainly hadn’t expected someone to start speaking from behind her, and with a startled yip she jumps straight up in the air, whipping around to face them as she lands. Her eyes widen as she takes in the larger silhouette of a male lion. Someone she hadn’t scented because all she could smell was her own wet fur and wet rock.

“I most certainly do not.” She said immediately, then she offered him an awkward smile, trying to make sure that he didn’t take offense to her tone and words. Of course, then she realizes that he probably can’t see it.

“Do you?” She countered, looking down off the ledge with a disbelieving look that anyone with half a brain would want to swim in that.

“Do you... uh... live here?” She asks with a frown, frustrated that she couldn’t see him. So she takes a tentative sniff- trying to gauge if he’s from another pride or a loner... trying to decided if he is friend or foe.

@Andras

_{art by yumpy}

It was nice, in a way, to be regaled instead of attacked upon his first approach. The lands of Amaryllis had at first proven hostile to he and the rest of the Rike, and though it still seemed that way, the wars past waged seemed to have burned in the memories of all but he. He, still anonymous. He, unknowing of who their enemies were, and who their allies were. He peered down at the roaring river at her suggestion, his own slight smirk not falling from his lips quite yet. “If I felt like a brutal, certain death,” he responded, before turning his fiery gaze back toward her, “then perhaps I would.” As it were, however, András still had far too much to live for to go throwing himself into nature's machinating whims.

Do you... uh... live here?

“I do not,” he answered shortly after her question. She seems skeptical, intrigued by him. The mystery that beholds András gives him power, in a way. But he seeks not control over the fairer sex, nor does he have other deep and depraved desires of her or anyone else. His simplicity is almost agonizing, perhaps. He lives to serve the Rike. He is the slaughterer of their monsters. If only she could tell that by his scent alone, he mused. “And by the smell of it, you do not, either.” Though he knew little of the Mire, he had recognized somewhat familiar scents at that challenge so long ago. It was murky, dank, unbelonging on such a pretty girl.

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Ghyslaine

When the large male, well she assumed that he was large based on his silhouette alone, spoke, she craned her head over the ledge and looked down at the rushing water with a slight shudder.

No, Ghyslaine did not fancy going for a swim that would end in her death. She didn’t intend to die anytime soon.

To her question, he spoke stating that he did not live in this cave. She kinda had guessed that because it seemed like a miserable place to live. He goes on to say that he doesn’t think that she does either and she shakes her head, and then speaks- realizing he may not be able to see that.

“I don’t. I live in Ecrosia Mire, it’s ah not to far from here- if you’re familiar with the lands?” She trailed off her response into another question. “I was just out.. exploring when this storm rolled in.” She felt the need to explain herself to him, why- she didn’t know.

@András

_{art by yumpy}

The Mire was one unfamiliar to András. In fact, most of the prides and politicking of Amaryllis was as foreign to him as were these storms raging from shore to shore. He shook off the river spray that had made him uncomfortably damp, and then leapt up to the small outcropping @Ghyslaine had found shelter in, enjoying the dryness that came with it. He lingered a good bit away from her, giving her enough space to breathe, while being close enough to finally observe every bit of her. Pale, golden, pretty. “I know nothing of these lands, actually,” he remarked, catching her gaze. The only thing he could tell was by the name and the swampy smell that emanated from her, it must have been some sort of dank wetland.

He perhaps would have felt half-tempted to inquire about the nature of this place had he not been here so long ago. From how he remembered it, his last time here had been far fairer and more temperate in season. This seemed an oddity, a shift, a change. “How long have these storms been occurring?” They had destroyed the den he and Magdalene had made their temporary home in. Perhaps, he mulled, it would be more worth it to find a pride until (and if) this strange turn of climate would ever pass.

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Ghyslaine

In a moment it seems he leaps up and joins her where she is sitting in a more sheltered spot and she turns to look at him more fully. As the lightning flickers across the sky, she gets to see him as he is illuminated. He is grey with a white colored mane, and orange eyes- a striking sort of look. Handsome The thought is unbidden in her mind and she is glad that he cannot read her mind.

He knew nothing of this land. Huh, well she could tell him about what she knew, and so she would offer that. “I can tell you about it if you like.” She said with a small smile.

Then he asked about the weather and she frowned as she stared down at the rushing water again. “It just started happening…. It’s not just the storms- it’s fires and snow in the north. This strange algae is in our Mire, in the swampy waters.” She paused with a frown. “I.. don’t know what’s going on.” She admitted, and it terrified her. “It wasn’t like this when I came here originally.” She added.

Then she was struck with the realization that she hadn’t introduced herself. “I’m Ghyslaine.” She added.

@András

_{art by yumpy}

András would never shirk at the opportunity to learn more. Knowledge was power, and the more he had of it, the more he could offer to his family and his jarl. He smirked, intrigued, lowering himself onto his belly and crossing one forelimb over the other. If she were going to regale him with her stories, he might as well make himself comfortable. The raging of the river would not die down, but its cacophonous howling was slowly lost to noise fatigue. All he could hear was her, now. “Please do.”

The news of the weather was troubling. Wildfires, blizzard, torrential downpours...clearly not the norm for Amaryllis, but András wonders just how long @Ghyslaine had been in Amaryllis, and if perhaps this were the natural course of things here. Hopefully, the both of them would be here long enough to stick around and find out. “Odd, indeed,” he continued, watching the glint of his dark claws as he sheathed and unsheathed them. Then, he glanced upward, stealing another look at the pale golden woman across the way. “I wonder if someone has angered their God?” he mused, smirking, a single strand of gray hair falling onto his forehead, “Or if nature is trying to wipe clean the slate?” Morbid thoughts to be spoken so casually, but that was all András ever was.

Ghyslaine, she introduced.

“András,” he replied. He had nothing to hide, everything to gain. “Rike.”

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Ghyslaine

‘Please do.’

With that she nods, and begins speaking “I know of six prides, but I think there are more- I just haven’t met anyone from them. Caladan Cove- led by Sahir, is an ally of the Mire. Scilla Lagoon… I don’t know who leads them now, honestly- I think there was a change in leadership. Andal Oasis is led by Seneca in the desert. Vermeda Brook… I know a friend of mine resides there, and leads- Talisa, but I don’t think she’s the primary leader. The Rainforest was recently won by a maned lioness but I don’t know her. Then there’s the Mire. Alaric Starke is our king.” She paused and took in a breath, letting that information settle for a moment before she would speak again when he was ready- but if he had questions, she would try to answer them as best as she can.

A shiver goes through her, and she stares back down at the rushing water. She wonders if he is right… Was nature trying to wipe the slate clean? She can’t help the prickle of fear that she feels. “I don’t know… I… the idea is terrifying that nature would wipe us all out.” She admits.

He introduces himself as @András Rike, and it is the last name that gives him pause. “Rike?” She questions. That is a last name she has heard before… a lot. Any relation to an Erna?” She asked.

_{art by yumpy}

Her information is valuable, and something he tucks away in the deep recesses of his mind, hoping to share later his findings with Magdalene and the other Rike they'd soon come across and to see if any of their findings crossover and match. Not that he would think @Ghyslaine would lie to him, but it was always worth snuffing out the validity behind everything he was told instead of blindly believing it. Nevertheless, her retelling of her knowledge of these lands was harmless at worst. None of the names were at all familiar to him.

Rike? she then asks, a familiarity sparking in her that András perhaps wasn't expecting. But at the mention of Erna, he suddenly understood. The spitfire cousin of his had thrown herself into the fray at that war so long ago. It had been the women of the Rike that had initiated that cruel battle, one which they were reprimanded for right after, but András had no idea the true cost that first conquest had incurred upon their family. He'd no idea the fates of his father and mother in-law, neither the very cousin which Ghyslaine spoke of. “Yes,” he responded coolly, quirking a skeptical brow, “She is my cousin.” And clearly, she'd made some sort of a name for herself, lest András just so happened to run into one of the few strangers who knew her. No, given Erna's temperament, it was far more likely she'd become infamous in some sort of fashion. Such is her way, he sighed.

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