by the time he arrives at the passage he looks more than a little bedraggled — harkening the hard journey he'd had to go through to get here. ears switch forward as the burly man stops short, as if only realizing he was somewhere at all. where the hell —? he grumbles, voice low and dry as the sand below. it were empty as all get out, but there were plenty of scents in the area. people had passed through here, and recently — even if he couldn't see any of 'em at the moment. with a huff the man continued forward then, like a bloodhound following the scent. if there were lions here, then there must be fresh water and better land than the god damn beach. he'd just have to find it first.

and, given the intent way he wades through the passage, he was gonna find it.

code by cloudy; art by irish

Ghyslaine

There were so many strange things happening. She almost hadn’t come through the passage- but on a strange instinct, she had come back. The waters were high- the wind felt intense. Her fur prickled along her spine, her tail twitching uneasily. She moved quietly, her eyes scanning the land before her. The strong winds whip a scent of a male towards her, and she found herself turning towards it.

She approaches slowly, coming upwind from the scent. As she drew nearer, “Hello.” She spoke softly, her eyes studying him. “I’m Ghyslaine, Gentry of Ecrosia Mire.” She offers her name and rank. “May I ask what you’re searching for here?”

@Shenandoah

_{art by yumpy}

"Welcome to Amaryllis," Sahir murmured as he approached, attempting to come up from a ways behind Ghyslaine. “I’m Ghyslaine, Gentry of Ecrosia Mire.” He suspected he had seen her before, but the confirmation of her name and title certainly helped. He glanced from the small lioness to the disheveled lion, noting the tension radiating from him with a quirked brow.

"You do not want to be here?" He guessed with curiosity. Perhaps it was merely impatience at a long journey, or it was truly disdain for their land. "I am Sahir, the Cove king." Since the little lioness had already asked what he wanted, Sahir decided not to beat a dead horse.

---

|| april y8 | four years | CC high sovereign | at maua's passage | @Shenandoah @Ghyslaine ||

ART BY MAX, CODE BY LARS

the sky above thickens somethin’ awful, a threat in every churnin’ cloud and darkenin’ breeze. he paid it no mind, though — either it was gonna rain or it weren’t. still, there’s a hitch in his step as he plows through the passage, leavin’ plenty of footprints in the sand behind him, as if tryin’ to outrun the storm. that was a fool’s errand but — well. what was he if not a fool?

ain’t no smart man who’d make the same mistakes he had.

the only thing that makes him stray from this path is the arrival of @Ghyslaine — golden fur bright against the ever-growin’ dim of the afternoon. ears pitch forward as his steps slow to a crawl, mismatched eyes sweepin’ over her lithe form as she speaks. huh. howdy, ma’am, he says — because you can be a fool and still mind your manners. his mama had taught him that, and taught him well.

she introduces herself with a flourish, tackin’ on that very important title. he had no idea what a gentry was ( nor what an ecrosia mire was, neither ) but it sure sounds fancy. nice to meetcha, ghyslaine, he says, turnin’ her name to butterscotch with the way his twang drawls out the syllables. it’s softened, slightly, by the smile he wears — but only if she ignores the knife-sharp point of it. he’s clearly countin’ on sayin’ more, but the arrival of another steals his attention away from the pretty little thing.

mismatched eyes turn to @Sahir, a brow archin’ up high over his eye at the man’s strange accent. even if that was a bit judgmental, considerin’ his own drawl. still, doe huffs a laugh — glancin’ around at the impendin’ storm as if to make a point. well, handsome, i sure as shit don’t wanna be standin’ ‘round when it hits, he says, wolfish smile never fadin’. no harm done, though, and his ears lilt forward — glancin’ between the two of them as he continues: name’s shenandoah. i’m guessin’ there’s places to stay ‘round here, yeah? some place that wasn’t this place.

code by cloudy; art by irish

Ghyslaine

In the silence that followed her words, she studied the male. He was an interesting male with interesting contrasting colored fur. He speaks and she can’t help the flicker of a smile at his odd greeting. ‘Howdy’

But it isn’t but a moment it seems before another male approaches, one that she recognizes. She gives @Sahir a slight nod, but remains her focus on the male, @Shenandoah.

When Shenandoah speaks, she can’t help the grin that pulls to her lips at his words and the strange way in which he speaks. Ultimately, he asks if there are places to stay here, and she nods. I represent Ecrosia Mire- a pride to the South East of here.” She said. “What do you seek from a pride?” She asks, and then leaves the floor open for Sahir to speak to the male.

OOC: sorry for the wait!

_{art by yumpy}

The lion's demeanor seemed to shift in the presence of company, his speech warm and casual as he regarded the pair of them. Sahir could not help but stand a little more casually, the threat of an altercation seeming to vanish into the air. "Well, handsome, I sure as shit don’t wanna be standin’ ‘round when it hits," he explained, and he followed the stranger's mismatched gaze to the sky.

"A lot of bad weather," he informed with a nod of acknowledgment, perhaps quite an understatement for the recent events. "Name’s Shenandoah," he elaborated. "I’m guessin’ there’s places to stay ‘round here, yeah?" And for once, Sahir hesitated in offering himself up. He glanced to the other lioness, curious how she would spin things – or even if the mire had been dealing with a fraction of what they had along the coast. Instead, she only named Ecrosia and asked him what he was looking for. Hmm.

"Survival is hard," Sahir interjected, his stare hard and even as he looked upon the rogue. "Our land is in peril. I rule the cove close to here, and the winds are hard. You are welcome to band with us, and we try to protect you," he explained. It was hardly his typical spiel, but Sahir knew that being dishonest could only serve him for a matter of hours at most before the reality of their situation was revealed.

---

@Shenandoah @Ghyslaine

ART BY MAX, CODE BY LARS

his attention flits back between them, slow to realize that there was a pressure buildin’ here — completely outside of the storm already abrewin’. they look to him with a certain amount of hunger; he don’t understand it, but he notices it, curious as all get out. @Ghyslaine's question gets asked first so it’s to her he looks, broad skull tiltin’ as he considers her words. i ain’t too picky, sweetheart, he murmurs with a winnin’ smile, with all the conman’s charm that his daddy had given him. he weren’t lyin’, though. he’d had little experience with prides in the way they meant — bein’ far more versed in bands. but, eh, he wouldn’t mind much of anythin’ if it were a place to lay his head.

mismatched gaze swings back to @Sahir as he speaks, ears twitchin’ forward at the man’s strange accent. he offers far much more, paintin’ an awful dour picture of the situation — but probably a more realistic one. i don’t need protectin’, doe interjects easily, an almost amused look colorin’ his features. just need a place to stay. he weren’t too sure how long he was gonna be in this place — this amaryllis — but he knew that, sure as shit, he’d always done better with others.

even if they were strangers.

ears pitch forward, a gnawin’ impatience growin’ in his chest. so — what do y’all need in exchange for that, huh? he looks between them, awaitin’ an answer. they both seem friendly enough but he knows better than to expect anythin’ without a price.

code by cloudy; art by irish

Ghyslaine

His accent is funny to her- it is something unfamiliar, and it brings a smile up to her jaws. She can’t help the soft chuckle that leaves her when he speaks. Then she takes her moment, and speaks. “The Mire is located on the south-east portion of the land,” She would offer that tidbit of information. “We are seeking capable hunters, warriors, and healers.” She said.

“Our pride offers a decent size, and the ability to chase whatever you want in life.” She said, wondering what this male wanted… lionesses, glory? What did most males want.

Then Ghyslaine fell silent, her gaze politely shifting to @Sahir , so the male could speak.

@Shenandoah

_{art by yumpy}

well, the golden hued lioness was awful nice -- even if she weren't too great at answerin' his question. she keeps boastin' about the mire but didn't mention what he might have to do to stay apart of it. still, the storm is a-comin' and he needs somethin'. somewhere to lay his head through the worst of it. worst case, he figures, he can just leave after the weather settles down. hopefully that would be soon, but little does he know that it's gonna get worse long before it gets better. but, that's all fine -- she didn't mention anythin' 'bout havin' to sign on for the long haul, right? all right, he drawls, ears tippin' towards @Ghyslaine. relentin' easily enough, happy to be won over. sign me up, then. he glances towards the king, who'd been a little more quiet. a shame, that -- doe thinks he would've liked the shoreline more than a swamp. shall we? he says instead to the woman, figurin' she could clue him in on the nitty-gritty as they go.

code by cloudy; art by irish

"Best luck," he wished the lion as he made his choice clear. The lioness seemed more skilled at charming strangers than he, though Sahir would never admit it. Glancing to the sky with dread written upon his features, he wondered how much time they had before nature's fury resumed. "Find the cove if you change your mind," was all he would say on the matter, not caring to linger on his failures for a moment longer than needed.

Dipping his head to both of the lions, Sahir began the long journey back to the cove. While he would try and outrun the weather, he suspected he may need to duck in somewhere on the way if the winds started up badly.

---

-exit-
+5 - BWP-related exp

ART BY MAX, CODE BY LARS