GOD KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY AND SO SHALL WE

The increased frenzy of his fangs was satisfying. He was happy because this was what he was supposed to do, and it was working. Taste the blood of others, like a vulture to carrion, while her grip within his bottom mane remained persistent like a tick. Painful, inextricable, mangling the skin and follicles so he would have a permanent patch of ungroomed hairstyle in the future and in the present, even more blood running thin from the wound. But he still considered this cosmetic damage, considered his own current position superior. He could simply tear her apart, he wondered. Would his familie spectators approve of the show, or would they consider him a show off? It was not enough to feast and indulge, no - this battle had purpose, it required a decisive winner and loser, as he grudgingly remembered when the little chewtoy shifted her weight. One must not merely feast, one must grapple for supremacy! Oh, to be surely on top of the world at last, free to savor and not to gulp! But in this life it was not his place.

His stomach felt sucked into itself, hungering for more blood, but the increase of her weight against his fangs forced a release of their grip. He snarled, but in vain, unable to snap back before he felt a rake of claws against the side of his face. They felt like mud pellets and left raindrop scatters of blood trails, bleeding somewhat more severely than they would heal. The skin was thin but it would heal... slowly... unless it got infected. The male did lead a verminous lifestyle. Regardless of the future, he kept his eyes narrowed in the present and his ears tattered disjointedly backward. Hindquarters, already with their limbs spread, sunk lower along with his braced chest. She hung unwieldy; the skin around his neck felt heavy, and like an eerie interlude of suffocation. He tried to scrunch his chin downward clasped toward the front of his chest, aiming to protect the underside of his throat. Maw was agape, fangs with crimson gorged, though they had no active target except to try to slash along anything that might get in their way. More pertinently, he aimed to redeem his left paw's less-than-stellar prior performance by trying to pry it between her jaws and his precious neck. An act that was necessarily attempted chiefly by feel - but he could certainly feel pain, even if it was oft mocked.

Vermier vs @Revna
Obsidian Hollow
3 / 5

Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 14 + 7 + 12 + 5 + 19 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 20 + 9 + 7 + 18 + 1 + 11

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 4 + 16 + 9 + 20 + 8

As she lefts herself slide to the side he releases his grip on her, realizing the danger he is in. But it is too late for him to reset himself before her claws drag furrows through the thin skin of his face. Blood rains down from the wound, decorating the hard earth beneath their twisted forms. She hangs from his neck now, having not relinquished her hold just yet.

His jaws search vainly for something to slash at, and in the melee they managed to slice a gash in her exposed shoulder. She flinches slightly but does her best to ignore the pain, focusing instead on the paw that reached towards her face, as if hoping to dislodge her. Before he can slash her as she did to him she releases her hold at last, though one of his claws nicks her lower jaw before she does, drawing a pinprick of blood in the process.

In a twisted position, her side on the ground at the rest of her reaching up towards him, she reaches forward with both front legs, and attempts to wrap her arms around his neck or shoulders, claws out and ready to dig into the flesh that she might find with her reach. She is ready to put force behind the attack if it lands, and use him to either drag herself back up or - since he is smaller than her - drag him down to the ground with her superior weight.

Revna vs. @Vermier
for Obsidian Hollow
Round 1 2 3 4 5
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 4 + 12 + 16 + 14 + 18 + 11

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 7 + 5 + 12 + 3 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 12 + 19 + 17 + 18 + 20 + 1

_{BG — ART — CODE}

GOD KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY AND SO SHALL WE

Her scruff begrudgingly released, the next sensation from his fangs is a quick jolt against a chance expanse of her shoulder. This is less pleasing. The meat was not so thick here. Scruff contained fat, fur, and skin; shoulder was predominantly bone, and that was not appealing to him unless he was in the position to break it. Nonetheless the need to keep his chin protected took priority over his disappointment. Fangs bared, cast in crimson resin, but their display was merely a show. Even once the weight loosened from his neck - propelling his neck upward half a foot from the sudden release of strain - he only kept his maw pitched downward and back, the tender underside of his life force protected while lower down on his neck the long-berated wound continued to stream and mat russet fur into dark shaggy red.

His left paw still hungered, only antagonized by the nick those daggers had marked. He couldn't see what damage had been done, but it felt like a miss and furthermore she did not writhe in pain (also a minus) but kept twisting around with both her front paws now reaching up to grab the sides of his neck. They hooked firmly into the thick mane fur and he snarled as their weight forced his chest back down, making his left elbow knock against the dirt and ring nerves up his unfunny bone. Small punctures formed in his neck skin as well but they were messy, ragged, the flesh bruised around their beguilingly meager confines. She was quite heavy. Daring - infuriated - he tried to swing his right front paw around, its claws unsheathed but most of its anger in its heft and weight, aiming to smash it against her ribs.

Vermier vs @Revna
Obsidian Hollow
4 / 5

Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 16 + 19 + 13 + 1 + 4 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 13 + 19 + 11 + 10 + 9 + 14

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 19 + 15 + 18 + 13 + 5

midnight mass
a crimson pool so warm and deep
lulls me to an endless sleep

The state of the world is a peculiar one, that.

The dust from the caverns haven't even settled when the vultures come to roam - Gauthier follows the trail of blackbirds through the forested edges of the Hollow, then picks through the scents of those who have mingled their paths. He is too new to the terra, previously uninvolved aside for the long ago battle between Alaric and Roan. Much has changed since, the face of the mountain shifted, the greenery uprooted and overgrown, old paths laid to the tangle of vines, ferns, voles.

In a ring of disheveled dust and granite shard, a familiar bulk wrestled with the dark silhouette of a stranger. Vermier drew his immediate interest, coming well aside of any particular creature that found themselves audience to the challenge. But his eyes did drift to Amara, curious to see what she thought of her Sovereign spreading their dominion even further.

He lounged in a chaise of granite, its surface cool and comfortable, shearing the edges of his claws with an idle pleasure.

_{BG — ART — CODE}

Ghyslaine would bring Violarum up and the warrior could not help but make a face. Nose wrinkling up as if he had smelled something foul. Although it rapidly shifted to amusement as she mentioned he had to take a step back. “Did he realize that leading was actual work?" He would comment, only half joking, but his tone was light enough to indicate he meant it humorously. His gaze would follow her own back to the fight, he didn’t really know either combatant, it didn’t matter much to him who won. She would continue speaking, explaining where her pride was and vaguely how to get there. He would nod, “I may take you up on that, if you don’t mind a few other Svend as well.” He commented, his gaze shifting to her to note the sympathetic smile. She had to knww why he couldn’t stay in the Mire and he was both grateful and relieved that she didn’t bring it up in front of Caillan. @Ghyslaine ”Hi "

the sea does not like to be restrained He is protecting the underside of his neck now, leaving that out as an option for her next target. Still, she is able to successfully wrap her legs around his neck and dig claws in, dragging him down a little. She increases the pull immediately, trying to use him as leverage to pull herself up farther. If anything, it might pull him down even more toward the ground and within her reach. Although, with his chest so near the ground and his elbow hitting the earth it probably isn't possible to bring him down much more. There is nothing she can do to stop him when he swings at her ribs. His paw slams into her side, claws ripping into her flesh. She growls, but otherwise, there is little to no reaction - no flinching, no hiss of pain. Her growl is only one of frustration and anger. She wants to end this. Now. Still slightly on the ground, her hip touching the earth, she attempts to swing her rear end in a little and lash her hind legs out towards his chest or front legs, hoping to slice flesh with her claws or knock his legs out from underneath him. Exhaustion is beginning to soak into her muscles and she knows that this match for a crown must soon be over, with one of them standing as the victor. She wants it to be her, but she doesn't yet know what the outcome will be. They are well-matched. Revna vs. @Vermier for Obsidian Hollow Round 1 2 3 4 5 Hits: Rolling 6d20: 16 + 18 + 10 + 11 + 13 + 9 Dodges: Rolling 5d20: 5 + 4 + 12 + 3 + 17 Luck: Rolling 6d20: 2 + 17 + 14 + 16 + 7 + 4

code // art // do not use without permission

Azhira is silent as @Helah answers her; her green eyes watch the couple with the small cub make their exit. Azhira's eyes linger a little longer on Pyracantha just because... she knows her. Or at least knew her before she was sold off to her red-coated suitor. The female never says a word to Azhira, and while the tiger is a little offended, she doesn't make it a big deal.

The black and pink lioness muses that the lions can't keep their paws on their thrones... which has some truth as far as Azhira knows. She's heard from clients that there have been quite a few pride challenges in the last few months... always goings-on on Amaryllis. None of this particularly affected Azhira, but it was good information to know. New kings and queens could be intrigued by the Aviary's offers if whispered into the right ear...

Eventually, her eyes flick back to the black and pink lioness. "Shame," Azhira drawled, flicking an ear. "Maybe this time they'll fall into the right paws." Though, she couldn't really say she knew either of the lions fighting to determine that.

"Do ya know either of the lions fightin' here, honey?" she asked, tipping her head towards the fight happening a few feet from them.

I can be your everything; I'm your sinner, I'm your whore

art x code

The world was in a haze. Slowly, the maned woman regained consciousness, hardly remembering what had knocked her out in the first place. Sifting through the recent events was no easy feat with the constant ringing in her ears. A throbbing followed at the heels of the piercing sound. The medic took a moment to take stock of herself and her surroundings. Nothing broken. Head: pounding. Limbs: sore and aching. Body: weak. She didn't know how long she'd been out when it all suddenly came rushing back. Roan! Her mind screamed of the warning that had only barely reached her before bits of the cave ceiling had come tumbling down upon her. Though her den had not caved in completely, a large rock on the stony floor seemed to be the culprit to this insufferable sound coursing through the Hodari's head. Was that a bit of blood on one side? Sure enough, the moment a paw reached up to touch the origin of her throbbing skull, a searing pain caused Avana to wince. Inspecting her pawpad showed a few more splotches of red, but there was no time to patch things up right now. She had to get out before anything else came crumbling down. And more importantly, she wanted to make sure everyone else got out as well.

The halls were eerily silent as Avana made her way out of her den. Every step was cautious. Dust and debris seemed to fill the air around her as she noted every change in the tunnels as she passed. Tears threatened her composure, trying to fight her mind away from already deciding the fate of her pride and family. No. They got out. They all got out, she tried to convince herself. The medic gave a few calls into the abyss, but would receive no answer. Was she the last to get out? Only then did the strawberry woman recognize a familiar sound, something from the surface. The sounds of fighting...

By the time the Hodari found her way to Obsidian's entrance, her mismatched gaze was met with nothing but confusion. Two strangers fought as if they were fighting for these lands. Neither one of them being her brother. Neither one of them family. The dirty and bruised woman shakily climbed out of the caves, trying to be as unassuming as possible. If this feeling in her gut was correct, the Obsidian she knew and loved was no more. This earthquake had been enough to dismantle their home, scatter and pride, and... spirits forbid.... incapacitated her brother from defending their home. Where was Roan?

Frantically now, she searched the crowd, hoping to find her family somewhere among the sidelines. If nothing else, maybe someone else had seen them and seen where they went. If Roan was not able to defend his title, it was for good reason, and thus unlikely for some of them to stick around just to see the results of a fight. It would be @Maia's ashen pelt that finally drew recognition for the Hodari as Avana limped her way closer to the small group. "Maia!" She called out while taking in the sight of @Tobin and @Marja. At least they had made it out safely, or relatively so. Once she was close enough, it looked as if the swamp woman might have taken a whack to her own head as well. The sight of blood reminded Avana of her own injuries, but now was not the time nor the place to treat anything. Especially depending on who won, they might start snapping up any rogues left lingering. "Tobin. Marja. Are you guys alright? Have you seen Roan or Fae? The kids?" Her voice was not its usual cheery tone. It was weakened, yet still frantic as the maned woman's head shifted from analyzing her pridemates' conditions and scanning the crowd for anyone else of Obsidian. Though she noted @Adrien among this small group, the speckled lioness was a stranger. At least everyone seemed friendly with. Mismatched gaze caught sight of @Keir among the crowd, mentally checking off his name as another member who successfully escaped the tunnels. @Bakarea, however, was not yet noticed among the shadows. There were just too many unaccounted for and too many unwelcomed faces at their doorstep. Hm, guess it wasn't their doorstep anymore, though. The vultures were already swooping in to pick up the pieces Mother Nature left behind.

table by amanda || background

..twig? beetle tilted his head, curious, as the younger cub bounced around excitedly - and the little zero gave a hesitant wave of his tail, feeling a little strange about the idea of sharing their mother with another cub they had just met.

@Nazonal, ever a pillar of protection, reassured his sister - and beetle turned, hoping to gently bump his head against @Spider, a soft purr in his chest. it was chaotic, a cacophany of sounds around them, the ground still stirring with aftershocks as rocks crumbled deep within the cavern systems, the whole sky echoing with wicked whip-sounds of the mountains creaking around them. the adults spoke of going somewhere safe, and - yes - relief flooded his tiny body at the thought of quiet, warm, comfortable. he would go wherever he was led.

exit with nazonal, @Asteria, & siblings?

+10 Witness an event worthy of making history
+5 Observe a fight

Luther had debated on whether or not to go to a challenging call. You see... he was too busy doing nothing back at the Mire. The warmth of his den was too enchanting, and so he'd slept in until his itch to go and see what was going on had grown too annoying to ignore.

And so he'd made his way out, venturing past Aniadar and down the Shoreline, cursing the fact he couldn't just go directly towards the Hollows instead of circling Stygian. He'd never been so deep into the caverns that nestled inside the Mountain, but he knew of the position of Obsidian from his lessons. That didn't change the fact he got lost twice.

He arrived fashionably late at a crowd gathered, none of which were familiar at first glance. His main interest lay with the battle at hand, and so the Prince settled on the outskirts to observe a man and a woman duke it out. Upon closer inspection of their movements, he could clearly see the fatigue that slowed them down. Perhaps they were nearing the end of their battle, and thus he was just on time to learn who the new Hollows leader will be.