BIG PINK HEART

Ah. This insidious place was being fought over now? Hmmm... Fionn wonders what had happened to the previous brute.

As it stood, he kept his distance and watched the challenge from afar, not entirely sure who he wanted to win - at the very least, the irony of a female winning the hollow would be somewhat karmic justice, but either way, Fíonn didn’t seem recisely care beyond knowing who ruled the place between his Oasis be the othe pridelands.

The pink beast sat and watched from afar, green eyes clever as he awaited the outcome.

- Fionn is spectating

Looming into the distance Balrogs eyes would slant. What was this all about and where was his father? Eyes catching to the right and then the left as he brooded. And where was his fathers wife Pistis? Eyes cast back to Drakon and a few others he had seen since his royalty rank was given to him but none made him want to go and talk to them. He had been mostly outside the hollow so he never really 'paid' attention to things going on inside until it was too late.


Hissing under his breath as he was still healing from his fight from awhile ago, the younger boy would shift and turn his face to watch others come and go. How interesting...

The unfamiliar clawing of ambition at his innards was not something that Magnus had expected, in truth. It had been months since he'd lived in a social group - made of kin, really, and that was almost always a different dynamic to living in a pride anyway - and, since then, he'd grown to become accustomed to the nomadic lifestyle. No obligations, no expectations, just the need to keep his belly full and his back dry.

But he had grown bored. Restless. And so to learn that the King of this place had vanished, leaving a fractured group and circling vultures in his wake, was... intriguing. He would head to the Hollow, rather delayed in his arrival in comparison to most other witnesses; by the time Magnus descended on the ground a man - pale, with striking markings and bright eyes - had placed himself well and truly in the centre. He conversed with a woman; negotiating, perhaps? Magnus was already weary; and unimpressed. "Less talking more doing, hm?" He pressed forward, seeking to place himself in the circle. The adrenaline already was beginning to prickle along his nape and down his spine; it was a sensation he'd sorely missed. Mismatched gaze fixed on @Drakon, but not before he shot @Genya a brief, sidelong glance. "I will fight for your throne."

And maybe, just maybe, I will take it from you.

Even if he was not successful, the opportunity for a bit of violence - especially for a high-value reward - was too sweet to pass up. Lowering his posture, he would prepare himself for the retaliation; head held low, ears pinned and chin tucked. Eyes - both functional and otherwise - trained on him, waiting eagerly to track the movements. Claws poked from their obsidian sheaths, digging into the earth below. He stood, proud and ready, hungry for what would come next.

DRAKON vs MAGNUS
OBSIDIAN HOLLOW
ROUND 0 OF 5

To be perfectly honest, Jak was quite amused with the whole situation. Cub versus (near) adult? Such a one-sided event. And it was entertaining to increasingly frustrate the boy. He suppressed a laugh at the kid's screech, and supposed he might be making some sort of enemy here, but he honestly didn't care about the latter bit. It would be a while before the boy was big enough to be a danger, and who knew how long a cub's memory even was.

The older guy, though, could be different. He answered with a single word, which Jak was pretty sure wasn't actually 'we', and was some other language he wasn't familiar with. The important bit was the fact the guy didn't seem at all ready to jump in and defend the cub - more like a looming spectator than a defender. So probably not the parent, but maybe connected some other way. Or he could be the kind of parent who really just wanted their kids to learn from their own stupid mistakes.

Well. Whatever. That raised the chances of being able to make his next move without immediately getting smacked into next month.

The boy went for his tail, and Jak shifted it to the side, at the expense of a few hairs from the tuft sacrificed to the kid's searching jaws. Attention barely wavering from the strange adult, his rear leg lifted, and shot back - aiming to kick the boy square in the face (claws sheathed), trying to hit hard enough to send him tumbling away but not necessarily cause any actual injuries aside from a further bruised ego. There were still far too many others around to really risk hurting the kid, he had no idea who might jump to the (violent) defense of a random cub.

@Tripfire @Vermier

i'll be in the corner takin notes

i got your six while you're workin votes

code by corvus

The words the young female Casimir spoke cause his ears to twitch but that was all. A chuckle rumbled in his throat. "There is a time for fighting and a time for peace." He had learned that the hard way but allowing himself to go to a challenge only to be attacked from behind. He wondered if Sarthak realized he was alive as Drakon hadn't thought to look at the male when Gwyn had won his claim to the Hollow. But now? It was interesting enough. It didn't matter anymore as his attention was brought back to @Genya as she accepted his offer. How would @Hecuba think of that? As if on cue he could see his heavily pregnant wife make her way into the territory and even greeted by @Caligula. It made his ears twitch and flatten on his head. He had nothing against the maneless male, but his partner? Yea that was one thing.

He would've gone over and spoke to the pair if another hadn't came in and challenged him for his claim. Ears twisted as Drakon would look over to the colossal of a man. He had only ever fought one with such a size as he, and that had been Seraphiel. Interesting. Claws dug into the Hollow ground as he moved to stand head on with the brute before him. He could see the look in his eyes. The look of hunger for a pride to call his own and that was rather unsettling to Drakon. It caused a growl to rip from his jaws as he would roll his shoulders forwards. Fiery jewels studied the brute before him. He was slightly taller than Drakon but only an inch or two but those inches would eventually make a difference and Drakon would have to figure out how to take advantage of that.

Without further hesitation, Drakon shoved himself forwards, running head on to the brute ahead of him before he would shift his direction and attempt to circle around to @Magnus' left side at a perpendicular position at a 45 degree angle - aiming closer towards the ribs/shoulder area than the neck - where Drakon would attempt to use his jaws and bit into the meaty part of where the shoulder/ribs begin to meet. Ears flattening into his mane as he would dig claws into the ground beneath his large form to hold his weight with friction. His tail ticked at his heels and twisted when he turned to hold his balance. Both of his massive shoulders were rolled forwards, causing his already thick mane to grow thicker in size.

Drakon vs. Magnus
Round 1 of 5
For OH

Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 8 + 3 + 20 + 13 + 10 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 10 + 5 + 13

Had Magnus arrived ten seconds earlier, and been in earshot when the man spoke, he most likely would have scoffed. There was always time for fighting - at least in his mind, anyway. It was the way things had always been for him, and most likely the way it would always be. Of course, most of those situations were of his own doing, but even so.... With the spirit of this in mind, Magnus would grin eagerly as his opponent acknowledged him with a snarl, leaping into action seconds later. Once upon each other, Drakon's fangs would find in the soft flesh just behind Magnus' left shoulder; the melanistic male hissed, a low and angry sound. He was old enough and wise enough to not allow his opponent to remain on his blind side for any longer than completely necessary, and so - as muzzle wrinkled to expose pearly fangs - the larger male would attempt to swing his hips, just a little, to his right (which admittedly was not comfortable with fangs latched into your armpit, but there we go) in order to change the direction that he was facing and, in turn, bring the white form better into the peripheral vision of his functional eye. From there, Magnus would aim to lift his left paw, the one closest to @Drakon, and with claws unsheathed attempt to stomp down upon the inky digits of the Tollaire's left paw. In that same breath, he sought to swing his head to his left; such a movement would bring the Sigrún's line of vision on to Drakon's left shoulder, and from there he would eagerly part his jaws, seeking to sink them into the pale fur that covered the upper ribcage.

Well, the other male did start the armpit biting first... fair's fair.

DRAKON vs MAGNUS
OBSIDIAN HOLLOW
ROUND 1 OF 5
HITS:

Rolling 8d20: 9 + 13 + 18 + 1 + 4 + 7 + 3 + 17

DODGES:

Rolling 4d20: 6 + 8 + 4 + 13

his father's call is a curious thing, and one he's certainly familiar with by now. it's not surprising to see drakon trying to claim yet another throne - first the coast, and now these caves. rameses is only surprised at the large turnout: squeezing through is easier said than done, and he grimaces the entire way. lingering on the outskirts is just fine with him, but he wants to be able to see his father fight. drakon would either win, or lose; he would either have a crown, or not. the hollows had been his home for only a few days and he would not miss them terribly, but there's an unsettled feeling in his chest at having to watch his father fight. the last time he'd seen this... well. it hadn't been for a throne, and it hadn't ended well.

""

these caves were hardly welcoming. to him, they were hardly worth the effort - but others, it seemed, had a differing opinion. a crowd has gathered to watch a tussle over this throne, and he is intrigued. drifting closer until he's delicately on the outskirts, cornflower gaze sweeping dreamily across the crowd. wasn't this where pistis said her husband ruled? a frown marrs his pretty features then, wondering what might have happened to the pair. hopefully nothing horrid - she seemed too sweet a soul for any of that. focused on his inner musing, he doesn't notice for a long moment that he knows one of the combatants. magnus's form is easily recognized, and he does so with a jolt of surprise. ah, and he'd just been patched up! a healer's work was never truly done, but at least this time he had come semi-prepared. curiously he settles in to watch the fight, hoping that his friend manages to come out relatively unscathed.

""

The cave lioness had not noticed the scents fading from the borders. She lived far underground where the traffic had not changed. Perhaps some of the mud lions were more frantic than usual but that was it. She had more important signs to study. The roar from the borders pricked her fangs from within a frown. Who was this? What was this petty nonsense? Always a potential disruption to her work.

She padded up from the shadows within. Already a fight between the white male who was a current inhabitant and a new, dark lion, who she assumed was the interloper. Combat... she frowned further and crouched behind some others so she could watch through their feet. It was an old superstition but it was unlucky to be the last thing someone saw before they died, even if you were uninvolved.

He taste fur and iron in his jaws and it clicked that he had obtained a grip on the man's armpit area of @Magnus' left side. Not quite where he was aiming for but that was alright with the Dragon. A growl formed, though muffled with fur, deep in his chest as he thought of what else to do. Granted, that gave way to his opponent to attack - though Drakon hadn't realized that the male before him was blind or he would've used that as an advantage in this fight. Claws hit his left front leg, claws digging into his toes and instantly drawing blood and causing some major lacerations on each of his toes but what could he do? Nothing really. So instead, Drakon would attempt to move towards his right once again, though not to far down (towards Magnus' hind end) as well as attempt to tear his jaws from the armpit - aiming to rip towards the right; the opposite of where he was aiming to move.

Fiery jewels spotted fangs coming towards his own left armpit, well really his shoulder and towards his upper rib cage. It caused a growl to form as Drakon would attempt to thrust his left shoulder blade towards the oncoming jaws in attempt to counter the attack. Drakon knew all to well that he would be getting damage regardless but how much was the question was it not? Ears stayed flat in his mane as his claws dug into the ground for traction and tail ticked at his heels. This shit was going to hurt and if he won then perhaps he'd seek this brute out later.

Drakon vs. Magnus
For OH
Round 2 of 5

Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 19 + 20 + 10 + 15 + 6 + 8

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 5 + 18 + 6