Her mother's call wouldn't go without an answer. The cloudy yearling follows behind a bit, aware of where they were headed but not overly keen to hurry up and get there. She had already been in fights and while she enjoyed them, she saw no reason to rush to one. Elaine kept her mother's form within her field of vision as they entered the Mire. The sounds of many fights happening seemed to echo all around her. A smile crept up the edges of her lips at the thought of being able to fight once more and it seemed that it would be in another war. Her mother seemed to settle in so Elaine started to make her way around the edges of the fight to see what might be going on. Her blue gaze looked toward her mother every so often and just in time to catch a coward attacking from behind. "Mother!" She called out, hopefully in time to allow her mother to be able to see the attack coming but it was all she would do. Her mother was able to fight her own fights. The yearling was on the hunt for a target of her own. She was aware and careful so that if anyone else tried a cowardly attack she would see it coming.


Attempting to find @Victoria

Rolling 1d10: 3

table by k'sariya

she follows her mother and her sisters, moving easily down from the bluffs. the mire is a long trek and so she is hardly the first to arrive -- in fact by the time they show their faces the battle is well underway. there are a thousand of them, it seems, blood spilling everywhere she looks.

louve does not sit, standing at the ready, watching the fights. there is too much to see and so she listens to her mother, nodding faintly even if she's sure it is not directed at her. all the same she clenches at the ground and watches, waiting, bright-eyed and keen. mother is attacked and it is all she can do to hold back, to not show the sigrun bitch her place.

the smell of blood is heavy in the air and she licks her lips, muscles tensed and ready for whatever might come her way.

A VOICE MADE OF TEETH

table by sentinel / art

A rush of blood lingers on her tongue, vibrations run along her body in pure ecstasy at the thought. The attack hit, and now a nagging all consuming desire radiated from her toes to her skull. Blue eyes widen, their pupils nearly dilated in those moments--so far off was she in her elation, distracted by the sudden rush that Ashtoret did not properly see the retaliation. In her peripheral she catches it, seconds before contact is made. A clawed hand comes into view, gaze shadowed by claws a heartbeat's notice before the pain registers. The attack from the medic connects on the side of her face, along the jaw, and sends the cleric beast recoiling with a hiss.

Ashtoret is knocked back, releasing in her recoil the prey she'd engaged in this dance with. The hot sensation along her jaw lends credence to the fresh smell of blood, but she does not stop to assess the damage entirely. Muscles tense along her dark, earthy hide as she holds herself still lower to the ground. Another lunge begins, keeping her hind legs firmly on the ground as she lashes out. Her claws seek the other's visage, a petty vengeful retaliation in an attempt to swipe at the lioness's eyes, hoping to use whatever her claws sank into as leverage for a possible counter strike.

code by corvus II Art by Drifty

Ashtoret vs @Tullia
Minor Maim
Round 2 / 5
Hits:

Rolling 3d20: 8 + 18 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 1 + 4 + 8 + 5

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 15 + 14 + 4 + 2 + 13

silver moon sparkling — truthfully, she does not want to be here. maybe she shouldn't be here. the mire was dark and scary, reeking of muck and mud. but what's more than that -- is the chaos. war sparks, igniting from the embers and exploding into a wildfire that seeks to engulf the whole landscape. she recognizes a few of those participating from the sigrun meeting but cannot truly put names ( or relations ) to them. she slinks in behind @Revna, her ever permanent shadow, but it seems as though that was a bad decision to make. revna leaps into a fight almost immediately with a black-pelted woman and eira pauses -- stuck close to the battlefield, stricken with something close to fear. it is not helped, of course, by all the other fights sparking up around them. lightened shoulders hunch up, afraid but not wanting leave lest revna need her later. until then she watches and waits, tail twitching nervously at her ankles.

code // art // do not use without permission

Her claws crawled viscously through the attacker's cheeks, but in Zahra's mind that was enough to satisfy her desire to avenge her family even if right now she didnt know who she was fighting against. She was a foe right now. The blood blends in her already red coat, so she might wouldn't look as bad but she was wanting to make the other bleed more. As her jaws almost snatched the intended appendage she felt the other woman's claws through her frontal legs. Leaving bloody trails behind. She attempted to wrap her forepaws around the woman's head, aiming to sink the talons in there to keep herself tied to their face, then she aimed to once again bite, now doing her best to snatch the ear tip. Ears of her own pinned, lips up in anger, tail lashing behind in excitement. Zahra vs @Sarsaparilla For minor maim(ear tip removal) or face scarring 2 - 5 Hits: Rolling 5d20: 7 + 16 + 9 + 19 + 5 Dodges: Rolling 2d20: 2 + 17 Luck: Rolling 5d20: 9 + 10 + 6 + 3 + 2

Art by Shaz - Code by Shaz

He paws beat the earth and he arrived like a bat just let out of Hell. Amara is already fighting, as are a few other Wolfbron lions, and that's when he spots her. The raging fire within his veins does not cease, but the embers flicker and smoke for her. The pretty, naive lioness he spoke to on the borders of Caladan. The one that showed him kindness, and so easily thought he was part of the pride. She was here, and she smelled like the enemy.

Caelum hadn't known her other counterparts, and he hadn't really known what he was doing, but he found his black paws carrying his body to her, but when he arrived to face her... there was a less than friendly expression on his smiling-and-snarling jaws as he just eyeballed her with empty, predatory eyes.

"Remember me?" he growled, unsure whether he just wanted to talk or attack yet. He supposed it would all depend on how she answered him.

@Dhaveira

ART

silver moon sparkling — her eyes are glued onto her wife's fight, lilac brows knitted together with clear concern. there is little she can do ( she knows this, just as she knows she'd only get in revna's way should she try ) but her paws are frozen in the muck regardless. perhaps if she was pacing back and forth it might be easier to handle -- an outlet for the restless energy bunching beneath her skin. she has no outlet though, until he appears. @Caelum manages to sneak up on her -- only realizing he is close when he speaks. remember me? comes his snarl, split face twisted into something almost ghastly. a heinous sight even with the way blackened lips curve into a smile, but -- he is a familiar face, at least. she knows him, at least. it is not much but she clings to it regardless. of course i do, she says, as if she is stricken by the thought of forgetting him. his advice did not have time to come to fruition ( as ulla had lost the cove all on her own shortly after ), but she remembers still the way he had tried to help. mismatched eyes slide from his face for a moment, drifting to the scene behind him. watching his back as the battles around them rage on. are you alright? she asks, ears twitching forward in concern -- afraid for his safety in amongst all the chaos.

code // art // do not use without permission

“A family dispute?” is her questioned response to @Amara, darting gaze attempting to make sense of the situation. “Perhaps, Sigrun and allies versus Rike and allies,” of course, she can only speculate - based on the death match that unfolded amidst the growing chaos, and the morsels of knowledge she had gathered in her travels.

Charax is not an easy woman to surprise; if she is one thing predominantly, it is hyperaware. She was raised in the wetlands, and so there is a familiarity found in this environment that is matched nowhere. So, her body tenses, lowers at the sound of footfalls in moist earth; she can gauge, by their intensity, that it is a being with purpose.

And well, this was a war.

She pivots towards Shiva, just in time for the stranger’s passing shoulder blow on her left side. With the intentions of this pale lioness blatantly apparent, Charax attempts to hold out splayed right foreclaws to try and rake them along the woman’s right underside as she passes. The assailant’s shoulder blow will land on Charax’s left ribs, causing the younger lioness to catch the thrust of her own weight with an awkward shuffle and seek to return her lifted limb to the loam to stabilize; a shallow bruise sure to follow.

The woman whirls in a frenzy of white, her left foreclaws whacking into Charax’s right cheek - parting skin, drawing blood. The clay Scout retaliates, attempting to bite the rogue’s right front paw mid-air (?) - attempting to crunch against the delicate bones of her toes and prevent any easy return to balance.

Charax vs @Shiva
Minor Maim - Round 1 of 5
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 11 + 20 + 12 + 7

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 16 + 17 + 20 + 15 + 6 + 10

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 14 + 10 + 16 + 11 + 6 + 5

_{* +1 Luck to Wolfbron from Charax (Lead Scout)}

_{art by aurora}

Tullia Valour

The eyes on her target seemed insane, happy to cause her pain. But she did her best not too wound her too much but it became harder with each moment that passed. Her claws reached her target, doing so on the woman's side of the face. But even if it forced her attacker to back away she wasn't about to drop her guard. Right now she fought to keep herself alive, the most intact as possible. As her paw descended back to the soil from her blow, the Cove's lioness lunged back towards her, this time with her claws aiming to her eyes. She aimed to turn her head do instead of her eyes only the left cheek would suffer the vicious claws path. Now painted in blood from the wounds inflicted. As an skilled healer she knew she could fix them later but now she needed to drive the thread away. Like that she aimed catch the offensive appendage (Ash's paw that hit her face) attempting to catch the wrist and then pull towards her. With the idea of pulling enough to dislocate the wrist of its place. She wanted to disarms the attacker with the less blood draw as possible.


Tullia vs @Ashtoret
for minor maim
2 - 5
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 13 + 9 + 4 + 17 + 1 + 20

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 11 + 19 + 2 + 8 + 16 + 9

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 17 + 8 + 1 + 15 + 13

code by corvus

She's just so sweet; he shouldn't.

The snake inside him is coiling, readying for an attack. In his ears, he can hear it hissing, the rattle on his tail shaking as he warned his prey not to fall for it, don't get too close.

"I'm fine," he answers simply, as if they weren't standing amidst a battlefield; as if the air wasn't thick with so many lions' blood; as if it were just a regular sunny day in the mire and they weren't both standing in someone's pride territory where neither of them had any business. "Are you fine?" he echoed, feeling the pressure rising within him.

What would happen when the tea kettle started whistling?

@Dhaveira

ART