I want to feel the pain and the bitter taste,

Of the blood on my lips again

The lands of the passage melted away with each stride they took, forming into great silent plains only to be devoured by the thicket they now wandered through. Though he had nearly asleep in the passage, Kovirah had felt a second wind breathe into him. His senses became ever-increasingly acute; never before had he been in such untamed places, for the lands of his home were gifted with magics, technology, what someone might call civilization. But here, from what he could gather along their journey had no such thing. Curious.

He allowed @Maia to lead, now feeling his body tense and ache more than previously. His mouth hung open slightly, still breathing through the mouth due to the undeniable pain and the cut across the bridge of his snout. The journey had been in relative silence, Kovirah content to keep to himself and speculate about the world opening up before him. That is, until, he finds the desire to know--and knowledge kept one alive. It was never luck, like often the cubs of the world believed. And so, with a gruff, unused and parched throat he finds the question--

"Name?" Its soft, nearly missed he's sure. "Or do I simply call this place miserable?"

He wouldn't call his homelands cold by any means, but far less humid and wet as this place. It was a realm of gold and shit painted gold, where gems were as precious as a noble's reputation. In particular, he enjoyed the seaside, the docks despite their smell. And, evening walks along the vineyards where most people don't dare tread. Ko didn't know if anything other than massive trees and strange undergrowth would thrive here--certainly no delicate fruits on vines. A paw swats away some of the foliage, the subtle ripple of agitation in his own exhaustion apparent even behind his well trimmed mask.

And another soft gravely tone breaks this monotony "....how can you stand it....."

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The walk back from the Passage was a seemingly quiet one, with not much conversation sparking up between the pair. Maia wondered what exactly had brought the man to Amaryllis, and who had caused such substantial wounds upon his body.

As they arrived at the borders of their home, the words from @Kovirah's lips fall upon her attentive ears. She stops, pauses, and then looks round to the male who trailed behind her. My name is Maia, and this is Firnen Rainforest. She comments simply, fighting the urge to ask more about the male that had kept so many cards so close to his chest. She chuckles slightly, at his comment, and shrugs quietly. It's quite a new home to me - I recently rose to the throne here. It's humid and uncomfortable at times, but... I like it. It's secluded. She remarks, watching the other male carefully.

Who are you? She asks, simply, trying to catch the man's eyeline. We have dens for you to rest in.

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I want to feel the pain and the bitter taste,

Of the blood on my lips again

He stopped, eyes looking over the lioness before him with subtle surprise. This was a Queen? Her humble appearance certainly fooled him--the royalty of his home lands wouldn't be caught dead with out at least one layer of gold and jewels...and even then. A dark brow raised a bit, as he pondered how to word his inquiries, suddenly and for the first time feeling awkward about not addressing her with specific honorifics. But then again, did they even do that kind of thing here?

Despite this, he tried to mend the situation: "Then I believe an apology is in order, your Majesty" the lion dipped his head in reverie for her position, but did not feel he could perform a full traditional bow as was his custom. As for the name of the jungle, Kovirah had heard of no such place prior--despite being a well traveled man."M'Lady--may I ask what continent we are on? I have never heard of this place--"

The sudden, stark realization of being in an incredibly new place hit him. He felt his heart race, ever so, but kept his calm-composed stature. It was unbefitting of someone like him to react otherwise, despite this fact and all his training--he was nearly overcome with a sense of fear about it all. The thought of a den was a pleasing one, even if he'd never admit it to the kin of his house. He turned his attention fully back to @Maia then, "That sounds...decent." He managed to force out, "Thank you"

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Maia walks quietly through her home with their newest member, @Kovirah, rather enjoying the quiet man's company. She pauses when his voice breaks the silence with an apology, to which Maia wasn't entirely sure how to react. Her orange-yellow eyes turn to look at the masked man with a raised brow. There is no need for an apology, Maia comments calmly, unsure how to react to such a title. I do not really get called 'your Majesty' much here. The grey woman explains, curious as to what compelled the other male to say such a thing. Is it a thing where you come from? She asks, a tone of curiosity laced within her voice.

He asks what continent they are on, and Maia would happily explain. This land is called Amaryllis. The place where I found you was called Maua's Passage - it's where a lot of new faces seem to go when they are in search of a home. There are several different prides here, and in comparison, this one is quite small. I am glad you joined us though, She smiles with a flick of her ear. What are your ambitions, Kovirah? Maia questions, watching him as he observes the dens silently.

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Coding & Manip © Plymouth

I want to feel the pain and the bitter taste,

Of the blood on my lips again

The realization was best described as kin to ice water. Kovirah had few interactions in the far north of his home, but they all rang true--the cold touch of frozen seas was enough to make him shudder, if only inwardly. How--how could this be? How could he have ended up in such a foreign place? The world he lived in was explored, connected by highways and roads of reddish brick. Palaces rose to kiss the sky, to rival old gods. Dens, as he'd come to call them, were more huts and actual caves. These people were living like his ancestors--like the nomads his mother had come from--and he was met with a strange feeling of calm and calamity. The weathered man takes it all in stride, calmly accepting this odd fate and reminding himself to worry about it later. Adaptability was key, here. He would have to learn the ways of these people before he could go in search of a way home. A long silence had passed then, when he realized @Maia was waiting for an answer. A twitch of his ears, and a solemn nod to begin was a decent start. "Men have been killed for less in the lands of my birth." He offers quietly, "Addressing a leader, such as a ruler, is key to separating the chaff from wheat."

But Kovirah finds he cannot speak more of his home, not without breeding further insecurity within himself. He never considered himself an anxious man, but, being in a stranger in a strange land was something he had not quite prepared for. He takes a few steps forward, indicating to the Firnen leader that he wished to continue towards the dens, taking his time to find the right words--her question was an interesting one. Ambition? He had none--not like his fellow house-members. The few who did come to mind were likely reveling in his absence...one less obstacle in their way.

"Does a weapon need ambition?" He finds himself retorting, near monotone in scale. "It does what it is tasked with, molded by the hand of a master. It cuts, stabs, wounds, intimidates and takes..... yet never gives." He keeps his gaze forward then, studying the path ahead.

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Undeniably, there was something about @Kovirah that Maia found interesting. She wasn't sure if it was his intrigue, or his mysteriousness, or a sense of unknown - she wasn't sure, but there was something that was keeping her hooked on this conversation. Fiery eyes watch him as he nodded, and then began to speak, explaining why he was addressing her as your Majesty. She nods, understanding what he was saying. I see. She comments, secretly quite liking the new title he had adorned her with.

She considers his next question, and she ponders for a moment, eventually shaking her head. Perhaps not. But I would like, should you accept, to put you as Lead Fighter within Firnen. You can fight for me, protect me, and take whatever you need to. She remarks, with a flick of her ear, as she moves to position herself directly in front of the clay male.

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Her words nearly cause him to do a double take, the lives of a thousand men daring to recount in his mind. There is a break, albeit ever so briefly, in that mask he wears. One that, should @Maia have any decent ability to discern one's minute facial expressions, could likely catch. Only a glimpse, only a fissure, before the mask he has crafted is neatly back in place. Another world, another master--it only struck Kovirah when she'd offered him what he assumed was more than the average title, that he had a choice. For all the things he's done in life, that prospect alone sent a shock of fear radiating down his spine.

He knows the silence that follows her words is likely too long to be comfortable. He levels the icy gaze back at the ruler of this land, questioning even "You offer a stranger such a position, not knowing a thing about him?" he asks, and despite his efforts, a fractured lilt of his accent dares to shine through. "I could be a felon and you would be none the wiser, M'Lady" there was more irony in that statement alone that his bones could even handle. In another place and time, Kovirah might have even laughed at it. Here, however, the same sentiment isn't felt. No, he still feels the same cold grasp of fear in the depths of his soul.


.

we are nothing but weapons

and weapons don't weep

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Now that she was positioned directly in front of the clay male, she could study his facial expressions a little better. The shock and uncertainty was evident, and she smirked at his hesitation. He clearly wasn't a trusting one. I know enough about you to know that you reside within my home, and partake in our hunts. You are a warrior, no? She reiterates, recalling their conversation in the Passage. I offer you a position that enables you to practice your trades a little better, and protect me a little more.

It then dawns on her. Do you not trust me? Or do you not trust yourself in such a position? She enquires, curiosity laced with caution.

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The grey queen intrigues him. So many who had donned themselves with crowns and palaces, prides so large they built cities were nothing more than fools dressed in gold. But the gray queen of Firnen has a brilliant, sharp, dangerous mind. Experience dances behind her yellow eyes, and Kovirah bites his own tongue. No, he had never been the trusting sort. The life of an assassin was, after all, a lonely existence.

A moment longer of thought, contemplation and Kovirah finds himself unable to pass up the opportunity. For now, at least, he could operate with the protection of a group rather than try and I understand this world alone. Not to mention, the botched job that led him here would likely not be met with praise, comfort or any sort of adoration in the House of Three.

"You make a valid point, @Maia" he says finally, quieter, softer. Resigned to take whatever blessing she'd offer "I will be your lead fighter, if this means giving back an ounce of the same grace you have extended to me" he allows his head to give her a curt bow, a custom from his homeland, before straightening himself up. "My claws, my knowledge and my bite are yours to do with what you please"

.

we are nothing but weapons

and weapons don't weep

code by corvus

Despite the small amount of time that Maia had known @Kovirah, she felt herself trusting him. She was intrigued, and wanted to find out more about her new protector, her new warrior that was so keen to please her.

She smiles at his politeness, and dips her head to him. You are one of the kindest lions I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Maia comments, finding herself drawn in by his bright eyes. Tell me. What knowledge do you have? What brought you here, to Amaryllis? Maia asks, something inside her wanting to know more and more about her new protector.

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