His assessment does seem an accurate one, considering the sheer amount of muscle bulking his frame, and she lets out a morbidly amused huff. "Well, I doubt you'll find a more effective regimen for agility training anywhere else." Funny, how good of a motivator the threat of a violent death could be.

"Indeed, such extreme reactions can be exploited be a weakness to be exploited." And there was such little room for weakness in this world. Not that Myra could claim to be level-headed all the time, but still - pragmatism was key when it came to survival. "You have good sense. Few of us would make it so far in life with frivolous coddling." She comments with an agreeable enough dip of her head.

Perhaps it really is a shame that @Seraphiel is marked as an enemy at worst, a rival at best, by the scent of the Oasis upon his coat. She thinks she might actually like him otherwise. "The desert teaches that lesson well, hmm?" She may no longer call it her home, but she will never forget the cruel call of the sands. It's in her blood.

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He chuckled at her comment. Yes, when your options are learn or die I can see how one would learn very quickly. And if you didn't learn then, well, it didn't matter anymore did it? A one hundred percent success rate for survivors.

He accepted her compliment with a slight nod, perhaps a bit surprised to receive one. I grew up without coddling. Those who were weaker died, it was how our world worked, he commented. It was no longer how he wanted his world to work, but he knew it still did. That was why he now lent his strength to those who needed it instead of preying upon them.

Indeed it does. Both the one I live in now and the one I grew up in, he agreed. There was perhaps no better place. Except... I suppose living in the tundra or at the tops of the mountains would as well. He just had no desire to live in either of those places because he wasn't built for either of them. Amara seems the sort to hold her members to high expectations and not coddle them either, he commented.

@Myra

ART BY IRISH / CODING BY SENTINEL

Indeed, there was something to be said about trial by fire and all that. Harsh, yes, but certainly effective. Those who survived proved themselves more reliable than those who did not.

"It was much the same for me. I wonder if you are from the same region as I?" She muses aloud with a slight tilt of her head. Hers had not been the only kingdom that roamed the desert dunes, after all. But who could say? If @Seraphiel was from her neck of the woods, so to speak, they'd likely been fated to be rivals there too. There was little room for alliances in the wasteland.

She snorts a bit when he brings up the colder regions, though she can concede the point that those territories are barren and cruel in their own right, though they might seem the polar opposite of what she's used to. She suspects, however, that she would not thrive in the mountains the way others might. "Perhaps. The cold might be too much, even for me." The dampness of the swamp already comes with its own challenges. That, perhaps, is enough for her.

The High Sovereign of the Wolfbron is a figure that Myra has seen on her peripherals, though she has never really had the opportunity to put a name to the face. "Amara...Remind me of which pride she rules?" She sounds like someone Myra might actually like. Well, maybe not like necessarily, but respect.

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"Perhaps, but unlikely," Seraphiel commented. "I traveled for many years prior to joining Drakon and Hecuba in the place they called home prior to us coming here. Truthfully, I'm not sure I even remember the name of my birthplace." It didn't matter anymore anyway.

At least they could also agree upon the weather being too frigid in the mountains. He knew there was a pride that lived way up there and he didn't understand how if he was being honest. "Yes, I've found my winter coat doesn't come in as thick as others do, probably thanks to generations of desert upbringing." He tended to struggle in winter because of it, as it was just endless days and nights like the chill nights of the desert.

"Wolfron Bluffs," he replied. "Our two prides might have issues but I'll admit she's a capable leader." A capable warrior as well, from what he'd seen. Though that was fairly common for every sovereign he'd found.

@Myra

She hummed, chin tilting down in a slight nod of agreement. "Then you have traveled farther than I." The timeline of their journeys varies greatly, her single year versus his many. It seems unlikely then, that they would share the Cassus desert as their birthplace. She could speak the name, perhaps, and see if it jogs the Oasis giant's memory. But some things are simply best left behind, to be buried beneath the sands of time.

His talk of winter coats draws out a low, rumbling chuckle from her throat, amused despite herself. "Let me know if you find mine. I don't know that I've ever seen it." The huntress's coat does grow in a little thicker at the onset of the winter months, but considering how short and thin her fur is to start with...it doesn't always make a noticeable difference. Maybe her continued time in the swamp could begin to change that, but Myra doubts it highly.

"Ah. The dark lioness with the white speckles." Definitely not someone she has yet spoken with personally, but the instances where she had seen Amara hadn't left a bad impression. "She fights well." Would that comment prod at a sore point for @Seraphiel, considering that it was one of Andal's own that had failed to capture the Bluffs? Perhaps not. The beast does not seem as...passionate, about these rivalries as others, she's realizing. Not even as much as she herself is.

On that note, this little truce of theirs cannot last forever, even if the desert male is not the most terrible company she's ever had after all. She has regained her breath from her misadventures, and the afternoon is growing late. "Now if you don't mind, I must be on my way back." Not that it truly mattered all that much if he minded. "Perhaps next time we meet, I will see what sort of warrior you truly are."

/exit Myra

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He was somewhat unsurprised, thinking he had a couple of years on her to begin with. He hadn't been that old when he'd left the desert and its lunatic king behind either.

He chuckled too in response to her quip. I'll be sure to keep an eye out for it. He'd been slowly learning to joke. It had taken him a while, and he didn't do it often, but he had been learning. Practice made perfect, they said.

She does,he agreed. He wasn't offended by it, considering he didn't have a clue why the two prides were in a war with each other at this point. Too late to ask, too.

He nodded and stepped back to give her further space as she spoke of leaving. Perhaps, he said. He wouldn't be opposed to sparring with her sometime, though he doubted that was what would happen if they ever crossed paths again.

-exit seraphiel-

ART BY IRISH / CODING BY SENTINEL