Being a rogue now meant she had all the time in the world to wander and see new sights in Amaryllis. And that was what she had been doing for quite a while now, aimlessly wandering, hunting, and exploring. She found Freyr Peak to be nothing short of a magical place with its beautiful waterfalls, temperate climate, and peaceful grottos hidden beneath the rocks.

Shiva had dipped into one of these grottos today, and found herself intrigued by the way the light reflected in the shallow pools inside the cave. The waters were beautifully blue and deliciously inviting. She had been walking for much of that day and needed to relax in some cool waters, so she wasted no time in climbing into one of the smaller pools, allowing the water to reach her sore paws. She lazily rested her head on the rocky edge and allowed her eyes to close. Autumn was upon them, but this was still very nice.

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olive --

she is a vulture to beauty and power – and so often were the two intertwined. the crest of the mountain beckons her with its poised contempt, looking down upon her meager form as if to mock, to gloat. but she is keen upon paying the mountain deity a respect well-owed, and thus allows it to reel her in to its covetous grasp. she walks with a certain trepidation as she ascends its slopes, and her gaze swallows every inch of its scenery – starving. for once, she is quiet, and the world seems to still around her. it is not until the whir of rushing water shatters the silence and breaks her trance that she shifts her focus from an aimless wander.

she closes in upon the source with a bounding gait, arriving at a waterfall and greeted with the scent of another. the prospect of socialization is too tantalizing, and the babe seems to forget why she has come as she begins to follow the trail. she is wary as she approaches the grotto, but she pushes onward and through its mouth. immediately, she hones in on her target, blind to the beauty of her new surroundings: a woman, lounging comfortably in the water. “you’re crazy,” she calls out, ignorant to the disturbance she creates. “it’s cold and you wanna swim?”

@shiva

There was some kind of humidity trapped within the grotto, and it did not escape, not even when the December winds blew into the grotto. It was chilly, but with aching feet, she found it kind of refreshing. Would she lay here all day? No, of course not. But she would lay there until her paws stopped aching and she could continue on.

Shiva had been laying in the pool for some time before a booming voice disturbed her peace, echoing from the stone walls of the grotto. She lifted her head to turn towards the one who disturbed her to find a young, brown lioness. The look of confusion is evident on her face, and Shiva shifts in the small pool to turn better towards her. "It's refreshing and my paws hurt," she responded with an even tone. She would not debate with this child about why she chose to soak in a pool in the middle of winter. Sure, it might be weird-looking, but she had her reasons.

And yes, she knew that eventually, the cold would start nipping at her digits, too, and she'd have to climb out and dry off, but until then, she was comfortable.

@Olive

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the woman shifts to face her, and olive’s gaze scours her pallid form curiously. even from a distance, the yearling can acknowledge her undeniable beauty, and she is momentarily silent with awe. pink tones are a rarity to the babe, and briefly she wonders if @shiva is a figment of her imagination – too angelic to roam among mortals. but the curt vocals that emit forth in response assure olive that this is very real, and a grin warps her features as she narrows in on the pool with lengthy strides. she will be the judge of the woman’s claim. tentatively, she extends a forepaw to the surface of the water, allowing it to linger there momentarily before pressing her toes into its depths. her brows raise in pleasant surprise, and she steps fully into the pool. “hm, i guess you really shouldn’t knock it ‘til you try it,” she muses softly, pupils searching once more for the pale woman with a faint smile. “you a queen or something?” she asks plainly, referencing the woman’s appeal. in the youth’s eyes, queens are always captivating; nevermind their capabilities.

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Shiva does not move even when the younger lioness comes towards her, eager to dip her toes into the healing waters of the grotto to test it out. She comes forth tentatively, first allowing the water to only touch the tips of her toes before eventually the refreshing water beckoned her further. Shiva nodded her head, inviting the woman further into the water, to lay down within it and be her company. "Exactly," she mused, offering a small smile to the brown lioness.

Shiva chortled at the observation; farthest from the truth. "Hardly," she replied, shifting a bit under the water. "I recently joined the Ecrosia Mire, but I'm not a lioness that holds any rank of importance just yet. Time will tell if I am to be a queen." Though, Shiva had not come to Amaryllis to conquer and rule its lands, she wouldn't pass up the opportunity to hold some kind of important rank here. Granted, she felt that it was still a long way off.

"How about you?" she asked, referring to @Olive's rank and perhaps her home, too, if she wished to share it.

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ooc: liquid-timing this to be more current cause it's been a minute since this thread was started whoops lol her attention is easily devoted to the beauty, finding her company somewhat pleasant albeit casual. but the pallid woman seems amused at the notion of assumed superiority that olive thrusts upon her, releasing a soft laugh that curls the youth’s own lip. she likens the bemused reaction to that of ghyslaine’s, and decides that the question will eventually fall upon the right audience and unto the ears of royalty. but, for now, she lingers in the presence of a fellow unranked who teems with ambition – unlike ghyslaine. she hails from the mire – of course she does. a snort flares the babe’s nostrils as her head shakes with disbelief, carmine gaze detaching from the woman’s to fall upon her own paws. “the mire, huh? what, does your king just spend all day raising lions up from the mud?” she envisions the scene: alaric, a mad warlock, piecing together lion-shaped slabs of muck just to breathe life into their veins. and with his horde looming in every corner olive’s happened upon, the concept does not seem all that unlikely – especially not to one with a fanciful imagination. but @shiva continues, voicing a hidden intent to thieve a crown, and mischief brings her gaze back to the woman, slyly. “yeah? you’re after alaric?” she asks with a smirk, keen to engage in some girlish banter – whether or not the pale woman had, indeed, made reference to becoming the mire queen. and while the man is practically ancient in the eyes of the youth, she can understand the appeal. perhaps she, herself, would bed the decrepit if it promised a crown. shiva reflects the question onto olive now, and a shrug greets her shoulders. “no, just a lowly andal peasant,” is the facetious response she offers. and she would sooner die a slow death than reign over its rolling dunes of sand and expansive nothingness. “i’m olive,” she adds, realizing she hadn’t offered her name beforehand.

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Shiva chuckled at the young lioness' description of what Alaric does in the mire all day. She imagined something more like raising the dead, only they're living lions - new members - who rise up from the mud like a corpse. "Maybe," she answered coyly, unwilling to deny that Alaric is a mad necromancer. She didn't even know the man enough to defend him.

"Not particularly Alaric and not particularly any specific pride yet... All I know is that I'd like to hold a high position on this island someday, though right now, it's still a pipe dream." All she knew was that she wanted to be important to the lions of Amaryllis someday, but as for when and how she would get there, that wasn't yet sorted. Instead, it was a daydream she had yet make happen, or had yet to make any plans to make happen. "I don't particularly love how muddy the Mire is anyway, so Alaric's crown is safe, if only for that reason." She offered a smile to the other, who she now knew as @Olive.

Shiva shifted in the water, stretching out her toes under its cool embrace. "Shiva Anatu. It's a pleasure to meet you, Olive." She dipped her chin with a smile, grazing the top of the water with it so it dripped slightly when she righted her head again.

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she is attentive to the woman’s words, intrigued by her craving for power. a tantalizing dream that lingers in her own foresight, too distant to grasp quite yet – however much olive believes in her own, current capabilities. @shiva, in contrast, is an angel in her prime, and it is easy to envision a crown about her temples in present day; she need only grasp it. “well, when you’re queen, and i’m queen--” she pauses, a knowing smirk warping her features deviously as she voices her own concordant ambitions. “our prides will be friends.” it is a vow she presents – affirmative, with little room for protest. a future alliance she endeavors to forge, much like that which she forced upon violarum in the past. and this makes two friends for her pride, with a complete lack of enemies. she were already ahead of the game by miles. limbs outstretch before her as she mimics shiva’s position in the water, a soft hiss brushing past her lips as the sensitive flesh of her stomach plunges into icy depths. growing comfortable now as she adjusts to the new temperature, just in time to register the woman’s full name. “miss shiva anatu, i’m afraid this will be the only time we’ll get to meet,” she laments, though the glimmer of mischief in her gaze will find true remorse absent. “our members will hand-feed us so many fine meals, that we’ll never be able to move again.” her words are facetious in nature, though the prospect is delightful. olive supposes such an easy lifestyle to be idealistic, after all.

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Shiva has nothing to offer but a smile to Olive's vow for friendship, a future alliance between prides that were not yet ruled by them. Shiva nods, again dipping her chin in the water, and offers, "Sounds like a plan." Shiva had not assumed the female would also be after a crown, but didn't most lions come to Amaryllis with ambitions? Whether or not they would happen would be entirely up to them and their environment.

Small ripples form in the water as Olive lowers herself into the cool depths of the pool, mirroring her own position to relax within it. "We'll just have to make our loyal servants carry us to visit each other every now and then," Shiva spoke with her own mischievous smile. Granted, she didn't particularly plan to rule like a spoiled brat and had every intention of staying lean and fighting to defend her pride just as she had herself for many years, but for the sake of playing around, she could think of a few ideas to offer @Olive.

"If you could claim any pride on this island, what would be your top picks?" she asked, tail thumping curiously under the water. It was just for curiosity's sake, really. Just to keep their conversation going.

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the longer she dwells within the frigid clutches of the grotto, the more agonizing the sensation of icy waters on sensitive flesh. painting dainty features with a slight grimace as agitation conquers her psyche, yanking upon her limbs in a shuffling motion that sends ripples across the pool’s surface. but her attention remains trained upon @shiva despite her discomfort, her response and fanciful ideas of superiority enough to entice the youth from her restlessness. “you’re already thinking like a queen,” she voices her approval, envisioning herself perched atop the likes of immaculately beautiful lions and lionesses – namely seneca, diantha. and however much it were but a fantasy, olive does dream of an easy reign: revered and glorified at the side of a (more responsible) king. the temperature of the pool soon becomes unbearable, and olive rises to her paws once more, dripping, her diminutive form reminiscent of a wet rat. bypassing manners, she shimmies, sending rivulets of water through the air with her shake, careless as to whether or not her new companion catches a stray bullet. shiva’s question is one she ponders with uncertainty, though she is certain of what prides to avoid with her aversion to sand. “guess we’ll both find out,” she croons, a simper reclaiming her countenance as she spares the would-be queen a wink. “and just so you know: i still think you’re crazy for this,” she gestures to the water with a snicker, gazing upon it disdainfully. perhaps miss shiva is an ice queen. she motions to depart then, gliding from the pool to the shoreline before her gaze seeks the woman once more. “see you soon, queen anatu,” is the sentiment she offers before slipping through the grotto’s mouth and into the mountains from whence she came. -- exeunt olive

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