PRIDE HUNT
— THE PREY —

Rolled Prey: Hard prey, Buffalo
Number of Prey Animals: 1
Prompt: Atop the bluffs charges a hefty buffalo, intent on seeking revenge on whatever is in its path. Smoke seems to swirl from its nostrils as remnants of mist cling to the air in pockets of condensation. Dread seems to blanket the pride land as if in warning of something bigger at stake.
Results Rolled On: 10/12/2022

4 years, no bonus

From where she lay on a ledge, she watches the creature charge across the land- with not a single intention of involving herself in whatever that is. She watches it instead, remaining hopefully out of sight- away from the creature, yet in a place that she could- if she ever felt so inclined... join a hunt if that's what these bluff lions sought.

It was a big bastard after all, it would probably feed them all for days but she sure as hell wasn't going to just hop down there as if she had no sense- instead she would wait until the numbers evened out, until the odds were more in favor of survival, and then.. she wouldn't be opposed to 'helping'. Whatever she could do to make herself at least appear useful. For now.

ART BY MOOGLE, CODE BY LARS

4 years, no bonus

---

She was an unfamiliar figure, which made him wonder just how long she'd been in the pride. There were some similarities to one who had disappeared, but he couldn't guess if that meant they were related or if it was just some strange coincidence. Either way, she wasn't the most interesting thing in the area at the moment anyway.

Drawing up alongside the lioness with a bemused expression, he watched the frenzied buffalo rampaging below. They'd had such beasts in their lands before, but this felt different. The scent of fear and fury on the breeze, the tendrils of mist...he wondered if it was somehow related to the alarming vision he'd had a couple days ago. Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll just charge off a cliff and we can scrape together what's left. Or, if enough of them came to investigate, maybe they could just chase it over a ledge.

code: daanyen || art: lars || bg: sirius-sdz

5 years, no bonus.

Do not look. See.

The pitch bull and his curved horns pierce the heavens, scatter the dust and speck; steam, unfurling madly from his riled snout, clots with spit and foam. Gauthier watched from a shadowed perch beneath a jut of red rock, braced and keen. He had seen rabid creatures before - the circling, froth-mouthed, bleating stalk of a sure death. Though he knew no word for it, there had always been about them a sense of terrible things, as if evisceration traveled in their abysmal stares.

This was different. Instead, there was no divining magick that spelt spoiled meat or haggard blood, only that riding sensation of fate that lingered at the surface. As if it were a sign, an omen. But he is no sage, no shaman, no viceroy of some unearthly craft - he is a creature of carnal logic and moves by visceral instinct alone.

He clicked his nail against the hard ground with the rhythm of impatience and uncertainty, watching the beast throw its horns and snort its incoherent maladies. Eventually it would run itself to exhaustion if not entirely off-cliff, or batter its brains on the rocks it thrust against.

Those rocks, however, meant nothing to rendering flesh. Of this, the bull and Gauthier could agree. It is misfortune that brings such inclination into question.

The wind stops. There is a pause in the raucous tussling of the bovine, and his eyes - maddened, ravenous, a court with no room for contemplation, sets its frenzied glance on the slightest of movements. Gauthier, having only cast a shoulder forward, a tentative step beneath that still shadow, tensed in the firelight of its ire. But even the slightest offset is enough, too much, and before he can strategize the occurrence the bull is charging.

It is too much for one lone cat. and he knows there is only the chance of death in lunging for its own so recklessly. Instead, he leaps out of its path and a horn just catches a hair on the end of his toe - and he ran for the opposite direction, edging the tip of the rocky bluff, catching the brief sight of pridemates above before re-steadying his attention on the buffalo._{BG — ART — CODE}

7 years, level 3 ranger

It is the scent of the creature that summons the dark ranger from his den; its bovid perfume an unusual presence amongst the rock and dirt, offering an opportunity that Marius was sure not to miss. He padded across familiar trails until the striped titan paces onto the ledge with @Helah and @Ryker which allows him a view of the situation below. The buffalo had already been entreated by @Gauthier – an unfamiliar face, but that was hardly a surprise – and his skull tilted towards the Bluffs noble and lioness. “Looks like he started without us.” Despite the levity of the words there was a rumble of disapproval that might be detected in his low baritone; buffalo were dangerous, and this beast seemed maddened beyond even that – the hunter was at risk of very real injury being caged below without the aid of his pride mates.

“He doesn’t stand a chance alone. Follow me, if you wish to do more than observe.” Marius was not perfectly certain what the others desired their role to be in this situation, but he figured leaping from their stone perch onto the buffalo’s back would not be the most ideal scenario for them. So, the ranger turned to pace down a trail that sidled the cliff and opened into the area where the buffalo and his matador were facing off. From there Marius crouched into a low, readied position—joints bent, claws stretched against the stone, muscles tight with tension and he would only pause long enough to await the arrival of any who wished to indulge his instruction, or unite at his side.

code by corvus

GOD KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY AND SO SHALL WE

Age: 6 Bonus: Nope

It took the scarred beast some time to heft his weight up the ledges toward the bellowing that broke the sky. He did not question how it had gotten here. He only cared that he was hungry and the depth of the voice spoke of large game, and therefore glory. He stalked toward the small clump which was already dissolving as the lions involved looked for strategic avenues of attack. Quick - but he saw that someone was already in the buffalo's sight, and Vermier envisioned the lion taunting and distracting the thing while others made the kill. Brave. He envied the attention and growled, dismissive, automatically wishing to place his own contributions higher.

He aimed to shoulder ahead at a lope. He, with his smaller and athletic build, was obviously best suited for catching the beast's eye if he could manage to distract it by trying to snap at its hind end.

SIx years old, no bonus

What was this? His arrival comes late, but just in time to catch @Gauthier facing off a crazed beast below. Upon the ledge that his pridemates stared from, and were now departing, Apollinaire peered down curiously, his expression shifting into an overly-dramatic shock, one scarred paw against his mouth to emphasize his surprise. Mon Dieu! He calls out, his lips then turn into a sly smirk as they all saunter down to offer aid. Poor Gauthier! Brave Gauthier! Who knows how badly this might've ended for the joker-esque man, his fate sealed the moment he chose to face off the bull by himself. Well, now they will never know. Perhaps for the better, oui?_{BG — ART — CODE}

Age: 4 y/o
Trade Bonus: N/A

The hunt seemed seemed to have already started without him. The other pride members had already started down after the buffalo. Were they really that hungry that they weren't willing to wait?

The clay male ended up loping along after them. He would throw his weight in to help where he could. Besides, he could admit that he was eager for a pound of flesh himself. Too bad there was only one to be had.

Ole watched the others of the pride to see what they would do and to find an opening with which to insert himself. His patron and another lion were already the closest to the beast. No doubt Vermier would wish to take most of the meat for himself.

Age 2 — no bonus


Louve had not intended to join the hunt. The newly crowned heiress had been distracted by her own budding plans, choosing a ledge to recline upon as her thoughts wandered. Unfortunately the ledge she chose was the right spot at the wrong time as her quiet musings were interrupted rather suddenly.

Turning her head she took in the sight and scrambled rapidly to her feet, her breath caught in her throat as she was suddenly staring down a stampeding buffalo. It took her a second to realize Gauthier was there, and another second to note there were others around.

Damn.

With a flurry of legs and claws she launches herself out of the path, though the ledge was narrow and she had little room to move. Louve ends up half up the side of the overhanging ledge, her back paws grounded and her head turned towards the oncoming beast, front claws clinging to the stone. It would be the perfect position to launch from, assuming the animal does not look sight of its initial target and spot her.

A VOICE MADE OF TEETH

table by sentinel / art

4 years, Lvl 1 Pathfinder

Hazarin hears the call and rises from his slumber. Now four years old, he didn't particularly feel like he had anything going for him. He felt alone, and for a brief moment the man considered what his actual purpose was in this world. His thoughts seem heavy upon his shoulders as he makes his way through Wolfbron, arriving to see quite the crowd gathered. Coming up alongside @Oleander, he offers his friend a gentle nudge on the shoulder before turning his attention back to the man, @Marius, who seemed to be leading this hunt. He waited patiently, ready for the next set of instructions so that they could all feast tonight.

table by sentinal, art by irish