(Set before the OH challenge for sake of ease. Louve has ugly, fresh wounds — a half torn off ear and a bad jagged scar coming down from it)


Louve was sulking. There really was no other way to put it. Not only had she been permanently maimed (and by a damned Miroslav no less..) they had lost Gauthier to the south. Her feelings about that were decidedly mixed — while it was good to have a potential ally leading another pride it also meant the Bluffs were less protected.

It meant, too, that she had one less set of claws that she could count on for a true and bloody fight when she needed one. Louve was clearly in need of some lessons, and the shame of her recent defeat haunted her.

Perched on the rock ledge she had once argued with Apollinaire over, freshly scarred face turned towards the vast expanse of Amaryllis. A wicked view, sure, but she still felt the ever present pull to the twisting shadows of the forest. They were far more suited for a wolf.

A VOICE MADE OF TEETH

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Helah spent a fair bit of her time wandering the ledges and cliffs of the Bluffs. Perhaps a lesser creature would have been daunted by the sheer drops, and crumbling stones as she leapt and jumped from perch to perch- but she was not lesser. She had been climbing all day, when the far sight of another laying on a perch caught her attention, and she originally had not deigned to approach- and yet something about them kept drawing her closer- interesting her.

And so finally, she made her way nearer, before finally light paws would come to land on the stranger's ledge- a few feet away, rosy gaze studying her in silence. "Someone bloodied you up, girl." Helah would speak, her voice a soft coo, from where she stood. "You get your revenge?" A question that may have been construed as caring from a warmer soul, but from Helah it was an opportunity... perhaps this younger lioness had need for someone to be eliminated, and Helah was surely... bored.

@Louve

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Louve, admittedly, did not know every member of the Bluffs. A part of her thought she might seek to remedy that, while another part of her would much rather wait until they came to her. It was not in her nature to seek out pointless conversation with strangers, anyway.

Talk about boring. Louve would much rather fight them all. That was the best way to get to know somebody, after all.

"Who are you?" Blunt and borderline rude, turning towards the unknown girl who interrupted her sulking. Louve does not seek to hide her scars but thrusts them in to the light, wearing them proudly. They make you more beautiful she had been told, and so she will not hide them.

"I weel," this she adds, a promise for the future revenge that she would seek.

A VOICE MADE OF TEETH

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It is such a marvelous sight, the scars that mar the face of the young. Where another would have perhaps experienced sympathy- Helah only feels curiosity and a desire to poke at the scars, to see for herself if they are tender. Yet, she stills her paw and it's wandering tendencies as the beast before her speaks. Such lack of manners, so unbecoming a now scarred creature.

A saccharine smile parts Helah's jaws widely, her expression almost bat-shit insane- delight. "Oh, someone has not taught you manners." She coos. "I'll forgive the slight. You've seen a rough enough time." She goes on. "Helah Molotov. A recent acquisition of the Bluffs." She shares. "And you, my beautifully scarred dear?" She queries.

"So do you... have plans for this revenge? Need a paw?" Helah prods, plopping down lazily, as she stares at the younger lioness. "I'm kinda bored and a dabbler in poisons and some darker arts, and I've got a soft spot for broken things." Perhaps these were poorly chosen words, but oh well.

@Louve

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Louve has yet to learn the finer nuances of politics. The ability to plaster on a fake smile and shake paws with various others was not exactly in her bag of tricks. In fact it may never be -- it is far more likely that she would become the kind of leader that speaks bluntly about her wishes, refusing to ally with any that she deemed less than worthy.

Or perhaps the kind of Queen that sends others to claim prides for her, gathering them under her wing like a master puppeteer. Oh, the possibilities! For now the Dieudonne princess dreams of such power, snatching snippets of it wherever she can.

"Louve Dieudonne," she returns, not bothering to address the perceived slight or the comment on her manners. Frankly she did not care, and if @Helah had an issue with it she would be more than happen to sharper her claws again...

Ah but the conversation shifts, drawing her attention a little more closely. Louve studies the older lioness, considering her offer. "My plans involve my claws and my teeth," she shrugged as she said this, having thought of no other alternative, "but z'ese poisons you speak eff, are zey 'ard to make?" Intrigue colors her question, showing some interest in learning a new skill...

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of [vague hints of SI, Torture, Helah being Helah (Just being cautious with this) ]

Helah's ability to keep her wits about her while appearing absolutely lazy was one of her few positive attributes, and as she lounged, she studied the lioness- a lazy eye roving the scars that marred her chartreux hued fur, while the other focused more on her for the conversation that appeared to be at the forefront of her paw. The lioness introduces herself as @Louve Dieudonne . Helah is no fool, and it is a name she stores in her mind for later use. "A daughter to our intriguing Queen?" Helah probes out of a mild interest- that fact isn't as important, but she does suppose it is somewhat important to know how they're all related- those in the pride that are.

"Claws and teeth are weapons... The ones always used by our kind." Helah shrugs. "Posions... and darker methods are simply more fun." She adds- her grin dark. She considers Louve's question for a moment. "Some poisons are simply made- not hard to mix, yet more easily detectable. Other require a more delicate paw, an art for subtly." She adds.

"The thing about the art of poisons is that... it doesn't have to be as direct as the claws or teeth. Your enemy, does he have someone he loves?" Helah asks. "Taking them away from him, destroying him internally little by little until he lacks the will to live- and then perhaps forcing that life upon him, refusing to end it when that's all he wishes... That could be considered a true cruelty." She muses.

"Do you know anything about this enemy? Have you done any reconnaissance on him?" She probes, curiously. "Does he have a mate, cubs?" Such important little details. Revenge, in Helah's mind could never be a blind rage- it had to be calculated.

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"Oui." It is the only answer she gives, uncaring if the other can understand her or not. Truthfully if she couldn't understand even a single (common) word of french then Louve's opinion of @Helah would tank, anyway.

As the girl spoke, though, she grew more and more certain that Helah knew a lot more than she let on. Not only that but she clearly housed a darkness that rivaled Louve's own, and she could not help but smirk at the talk of ruining the Miroslav in such a roundabout way.

"Leander Miroslav," she offered, yellow eyes gleaming, "I do not sink he 'as any family, but I do not know for certain." But now that the idea was planted she knew what she must do; find out everything she can about the man who had taken a piece of her.

"I weel learn," she murmured with a wicked grin, flexing her claws instinctively as she thought of bringing him down.

'Oui', the language used by the other lioness is a tantalizing sort of type. Some type of tongue that Helah is not used too, but the word seems like an affirmation, and so she nods. The daughter, or at least a daughter to the Queen. Interesting, and a detail that Helah needs to remember. She merely nods, a contemplative sort of expression on her face, but does not comment further on it- for what else is there to say? Other than the mental note of the need to learn more of this language?

@Louve offers her a name, Leander Miroslav - the name of her enemy, and Helah considers it, weighing it in her mind, and realizes it is a name she has not heard yet herself. Though the other knows nothing of his potential cubs or mate situations, if he has any, Helah merely grins at the wicked sort of grin that blossoms on the other lioness's mouth.

Helah considers the plants she would use. "Daphne or Larkspur, if I had to pick a poison, would be the ones I would choose. The former would burn the mouth of those ingesting, and all the way down the digestive tract- inflicting pain, and the latter... causes slow paralysis and then eventual death. Max suffering, for him to watch his children endure... his mate if he does have one, before it's his turn." She muses aloud.

Delight trickles through her at the idea, and she relishes the thought- she would have never been able to do such things in her former home. "You know, I like you. I'll offer you a favor and I so rarely offer those. I'll keep an ear pricked for word on this Miroslav male... and should I gather any useful information during my outing, during my reconnaissance... I'll share... as long as I can help ensure whomever ingests the poison.. fully suffers." A wicked, shit eating sort of grin.

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Despite the brutality that Louve was so familiar with, she found something.... distasteful about the poisons that Helah described. While at first she was interested, curious, the more the other girl spoke the more she became certain it was not a path that she would take.

Poison, from what she was hearing, was the easy way to kill. A way to work from shadows and mystery, to end a life without getting your paws dirty. It was much like attacking from behind, and Louve found that she didn't much like that idea.

Not only that but -- "eet seems a waste" -- she barely realizes she has said the words, her voice distant as she spills her thoughts in to the space between them. Blinking, she looks back to the face of the other, her gaze trailing up to the pointed tips of her eyes before settling back at her eyes.

"While I appreciate ze offair, Helah, I zink I will stick weeth my claws." A tiny shrug, hoping she doesn't offend her company all that much. "I would like to see 'is face when I kill 'im." And watching him suffer from a distance didn't really suit her.

"Howevair, if you find any information..." That was something she would still be interested in, and might be willing to trade for. What, she wasn't sure, but Louve had no doubt that she could figure something out.

@Louve

She is not a fool and knows that the art of poison is an art lost on many. Most lions fight in a dance of brutality- claws and teeth ripping and tearing into flesh with the intention to kill and maim. Helah wasn't against that, per-say, she just thought about the bigger picture- the long term... the goal of unraveling her opponent prior to the violence.

She merely shrugs, the picture of an unruffled expression on her face as Louve dismisses her idea and considers it silently. "As you wish." Simply words, and she merely smiles, the expression small as Louve mentions information. "I'll keep my ears pricked." She said simply- for a small favor now, may prove useful to her later.

Helah turns her head, considering the bluffs beneath them, with a speculative gaze. Leander Miroslav, she considers the name. Recon should be easy enough, shouldn't it?

"Have you fought in a lot of battles?" Helah asked casually, curiously about the young heiress. Perhaps she could learn a thing or two from her as well.

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