The desert wasn't all bad in winter, and he had decided at that very moment that any future desert adventures would have to be undertaken exclusively during the cold months. It is mild that morning, not cold like The Mire, but comfortably average. The sun had cast a gentle, orange glow across the horizon, and Violarum wandered onwards with his friend by his side.

"I can't imagine them guarding her always," he suggests to @Ghyslaine, continuing upon their idle wandering towards the coastline. With a lazy shrug he navigates the loose sands, nose high in the air, seeking any sign of @Brynja. "Those Andal males might show up," he feels the need to warn the golden woman, sensitive as she was since the war.

Then, without further ado, a half-hearted roar towards the pridelands. Brynja! Come homeee! _code

Ghyslaine

Beside her friend in the desert, a place she hadn’t been yet- Ghyslaine felt almost infinite like the sand beneath her paws. The war had rocked her, yet it also given her a flicker of confidence that she hadn’t possessed until now. She had held her own against that strange female and against that Andal male. She had done well. So along her friends side, she was generally at an uneasy peace.

At @Violarums words, she lets out a rumble of displeasure. “Let them come.” Her words are dark and though she loathes the idea of another fight, and worse potentially clashing with her once almost friend- Leander… she wasn’t going to back down while at Vio’s side- not when the Oasis held one of their own.

So she would copy Violarum, and let out her own echoing roar for their friend and pride-mate. Oh Brynja! Come home!

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she responds to the summons like it were her own name being cast across the sands. but, much to her chagrin, it is never for her; this time, it’s for @Brynja. and although the youth does not immediately recognize the calls that beckon the andals’ prisoner in succession, she can only presume the owners belong to the mire (and who didn’t belong to the mire?). the prospective drama to unfold draws olive from the depths of the oasis and to the source, her gait swift and her center of gravity lowered in an attempt to creep up upon the scene. but as she slips beyond the borders and into vast rolling dunes of nothingness, she sees, for there is little else to catch her eye here. the way her saunter morphs into bounds of unbridled excitement upon recognition is identical to that of a child running to the arms of their parents – and so it is. a wild grin sees her jaws unhinge as she approaches the duo, delighted to reunite with her friends (or, the two she had had one or two positive encounters with) and see them unified in what she can only assume to be holy matrimony. her crown attempts to butt the front of ghysaine’s shoulder in greeting as she spares @Violarum a knowing grin. but then she remembers their purpose here, and that it were not to visit her. she frowns. “you know, i live here, too,” she reminds them stiffly, particularly turning her gaze upon @Ghyslaine. but her indignation vanishes almost as soon as it had appeared, and her voice drops to a whisper with slight paranoia. “i don’t think she’ll come. i already offered to help fake her death so she could go back, but she said no.” and what a great pity that had been.

art by yumpy!

S: exp +5 Infiltrate a group thread without getting caught +5 Practice disguising your appearance +5 Practice hiding your scent This place was insanely nostalgic, as it's sands brought the young Starke back to where he was born. A desert, sand and dunes all around much like this one he now wandered within. At this point he was curious and fascinated by the variety of places he had found past the trail of dust he started in. Broad paws carried him over the grains, eyes of uneven colors lurking through the extension of the sands. Quiet as he went. His peach coat adorned by a layer of sand to both disguise his shape with the background and remove his scent as much as he was able to. But as he went eyes fell on a group, that soon picked his interest and quietly he hides behind a dune still like a rock. Aiming to hide and spy. // Jurgen is aiming to hide and spy

There is a delighted waggle of burly shoulders at Ghyslaine's welcome for catastrophe, a happy-dance of light working through the deep crimson of his gaze. He gave her a shove for it, way too excited by her mannerism not to, trying to thud against her ribs with a tanky shoulder-point.

Then she calls, and he calls again too, feeding off her enthusiasm and building his own; a half-hearted trumpet becoming a full-scale roar of manly proportions. @Brynja! Alas, it feels like a good time of just the two of them, and the false-hope of an approaching figure is all that is to be seen.

@Olive soon reveals herself as not Brynja, and Violarum pouts, though he's somewhat happy to see his mud-skating friend, she is not the Mire lioness he sought. "You don't have to," he reminds her, watching as the youngster greeted @Ghyslaine with a friendly head-bump.

Feeling a little left out, Violarum would reach a paw to the girl, tryin to prod her firmly on the shoulder in a bro-ish (however awkward) hello. "Brynja doesn't miss us?" he is blatantly saddened by this, "She doesn't want to come home?" Broad shoulders sag, backside tucking under his ribs to sit down in the loose sand. _code

Ghyslaine

Let them come. Let the entire Oasis come! Because against them, she feels like she is willing to fight- the males who took lionesses from the Mire- who took her friend's right to choose away from her!

As Violarum shoves against her, she staggers to the side, before turning and artfully aiming a swat at his side, her tail moving behind her in a gentle wave, with a slight grin on her face. She enjoys their rough-housing... even if it took time for her to get there. He lets out a rather impressive roar, and she echoes him- calling for Brynja, and hoping the lioness will make an appearance.

The lioness that does appear is @Olive, and the lioness bumps her head against Ghyslaine's shoulder in a friendly gesture, that Ghyslaine aims to return- to whatever part of @Olive that her head can bump. At her friends words, and Violarum's she grins wickedly, "You could just come back with us." She suggests- clearly unconcerned to whatever drama would come from that. If they let Olive roam then surely they wouldn't even notice. "You're already out there... it wouldn't be hard."

Ghyslaine frowned at Olive's words about Brynja not wanting to come home. "Is she hurt? Afraid of being caught?" She asked quietly, curious about it- is there something they could do to encourage her? She glanced over at @Violarum, and then sighed softly.

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she is secure here, allowing their combined presences to alleviate what tension she bears towards the desert and her nearby claimants. a grin setting her features as she lingers in their close proximities, reclining upon her haunches now to mimic @Violarum and indicate an intention to stay. and as the mire sovereign prods at her shoulder in greeting, her upper half gives somewhat to the pressure of his paw, and she laughs through her nose. but before she can return the favor, @Ghyslaine voices a devious suggestion, and olive’s attention is abruptly ensnared. leave with them – a plot great enough to earn careful consideration. her status at the oasis nonexistent, kinship towards her peers undiscovered, unlike that which unites the trio now. and had fear towards the potential repercussions of such a brazen plan not crept through her system then, her hesitance would vanish as quickly as she would. “would they kill me?” she asks softly, allowing her apprehensions to form upon her tongue. “and don’t you think alaric would be mad at me?” perhaps it is unwise to incite further drama between the prides, though the prospective spectacle to be had for her sake is tempting. carmine gaze shifts to the clay brute expectantly, hopeful in hearing his input. the duo inquires about brynja – her safety and her opinions on imprisonment – and olive begins to feel like quite an important link. her chest swells slightly with pride, and her gaze falls upon vio to address his concerns first. “she does. she told me to check on you guys…” – whoops. a sheepish smile curls her lip now. “so… how are you?” better late than never, she supposes. and to ghyslaine, her shoulders roll dismissively. “her wrist is hurt? but i think that was an excuse… i don’t think she believes in my plan.” a frown anchors velvet lips downward, thoughtful. perhaps the spider had been blind to such genius when pain shrouded her mind. “it was a good plan, though,” she assures them with a nod. and although the plan was a product of her selfish desire for amusement, she would have fulfilled her end of the deal – if only brynja would bite.

art by yumpy!

He is obviously pleased with his shove upon the young girl as she wobbles vaguely and snickers; the gesture of her entertainment almost enough to ignite a kitten-like pounce into play. Though, he too is distracted by @Ghyslaine 's mischievous suggestion, his round ears pushing forward amidst mane-tangles thoughtfully.

"They didn't take @Brynja the proper way," because yes there was a 'proper' way to steal people, and though his head hurts at this point he is thinking as best as he could. "Tell Brynja I am not good, because I want her back," his response to her enquiry of their wellbeing, "We need her." It was true. Poor Nusura was left to heal all on her own, and Violarum hadn't reached 'friends' status with the blind woman yet.

"Maybe my plan is better," unlikely, "You stay in The Oasis, help her to escape, we will meet you both here, as close to the borders as we can, to fight anyone who chases you." Violarum is excited now, feeling like he was a sneaky genious. "We make a time to do it?" his burly shoulders wriggled like an eager child, muscle rippling, crimson gaze darting from Ghys to @Olive.

Tell me I'm a clever boy! _code

Ghyslaine

ooc note: sorry for the long delay

Ghyslaine watches as the pair sit down, and she herself reclines onto her haunches, with a soft sigh. Olive's response to her words makes her frown, but before Ghyslaine can speak, swearing aloud to @Olive that if anyone tried to kill her over such a thing- Ghyslaine would tear them apart.... @Violarum speaks.

His words derail her thought process, and she looks at him, frowning sadly as he mentions needed Brynja.

At what point had the Oasis become the enemy? She was still hurt but the thought that she had that Leander would have been a better male. She'd been wrong, and now her friend Olive was entangled... Brynja was stolen. "I'm fine." She muttered, not really wanting to discuss how she was doing.

Violarum speaks again, and Ghyslaine turns her silver and teal eyes on her friend, in a thoughtful gesture. She nods slowly. "That... that is probably the better plan." She agrees, her eyes shining with pride as she studies the clay male. How clever!

"Violarum definitely has the better idea," She agrees. Even if her idea would be for immediate satisfaction... it would likely lead to another war, and she wasn't sure she wanted that.

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though olive lacks political prowess, she can agree with violarum’s assertion after hearing brynja’s recollection of events: she hadn’t been taken the proper way. thieved under the guise of greater distractions in the midst of war – and for reasons untold. the concept is enough to make her scoff, and the mire sovereign’s own disdain towards the situation only serves to fuel her fire. her head shaking in disapproval before @Violarum claims the need for the woman’s return, and olive bites her lip. although she had provided brynja with leeway to escape, the endeavor needed her cooperation to succeed. without it, a prisoner the lykoi would remain. but the man continues with an idea, and a slow smirk curls her lips further and further as she hangs on to his every word. olive likes a good scheme, and vio’s is better than hers, however much she would regret to admit. an excited nod confirms her will for involvement, and her gaze darts to @Ghyslaine in search of her trusted approval. “yes!” is her celebratory exclamation as the pale woman accepts, a clenched fist rising victoriously in the air. she chooses to ignore ghys’ blatant preference for vio’s plan – that is, until she repeats the sentiment to pour salt into open wounds. olive’s brow furrows with slight offense, an unspoken ‘are you kidding me right now?’ embedded into the lines of her scowl. her attention returns to violarum as her resentment subsides, thoughts churning as she works to refine the details. “just give me… two days to convince brynja,” she begins, allotting an ample timeframe to sway the woman’s tough opinion. perhaps the knowledge of her friends’ involvement would soften her to the possibility of escape; one can only hope. “come to the border when the sun comes up. roll in some mud or something. y’know, to hide your scents or whatever.” a cheeky grin is thrown in ghys’ direction now: yes, even you. her gaze drifts between the two now, seeking their blessings with a doe-eyed plea.

art by yumpy!