This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of blood, gore.

The air is rife with hunger, an electricity that cannot be tamed. Paws strike the ground with unmatched fury, the rippling of her muscles under taught wheat fur is the epitome of unhinged beauty. She is chaotic, wild, brazen–the tail that trails behind whips to the side and changes her trajectory. Teeth are bared for the world, for her prey. In truth, the miniscule beast stood no chance against the force that was Sersie. A lifetime of scraps, starvation and battle hardened her into the ruthless creature you see here. Striking precision and the jaws of the lioness snap shut around the fawn. Its bleat rings out momentarily as it’s dragged to the sandy shores of this narrow passage, and Sersie is once more thrilled with the viscous taste of blood upon her tongue.

When at last the body begins to settle, her paws upon it to keep it tethered to the wet sands below, the killing blow is given. The muffled crack of bone can be heard, before the last huff of air escapes the creature. Her stomach growls as she begins to tear at it, voraciously ready to devour as much as she could before moving on. Blood spills to wet sands, coloring them deep shades of rust. A few sinewy strands of innards is tossed aside in favor for the more delicate meats. Oblivious she was, to where her path had led–though rumors around the last watering hole she’d visited suggested one matching the description of the real prey had been seen some time ago. The bitch could be anywhere, but Sersie was persistent. It would take more than a little distance to stop her wrath.

She caught her breath after a moment, licking along her dark colored lips. Her claws are dug in deep, for the lioness was not one to share her kill so easily.

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Here the snow was much lighter than the Mire or the more northern parts of Amaryllis, but it still fell nonetheless. Winter's pale blanket covered the wasteland that opened beyond the kingdom, bordering what was his one and only homeland and the vast unknown. Luther was more than happy to have the comforts of his father's pride. The rank of Prince was more than an advantage, especially when you were the first son. He never knew hunger or famine, although death has been a constant companion by his side.

Thus when the metallic stench of a fresh kill reaches the wandering boy's nostrils, he cares little for the meat. Food was not rare to come by, for his home was wealthy and their cache - even wealthier. The poor subjects of his father worked hard to bring food to the table so the Princeling can gorge himself to death if he so-willed. He follows the scent because he knows that where fresh meat was, there were lions. Fresh meat of the kind he was on the hunt for. "Hallo," he greets, standing a few meters away from the older woman. He wasn't sure of her friendliness, especially considering that she was feeding, and so Luther was wary. "There is more of that where I come from, should you be willing to work for it." He said nonchalantly. A bait, perhaps, and one spoken with a kind smile.

@Sersie

how alluring the aroma of fresh meat – both literally and figuratively. the metallic tang of blood embellishing the scent of roguehood that drifts from the passage, and the predator within her seeks to battle the recruiter. but olive is intent upon alleviating her queen’s responsibilities in the aftermath of childbirth, and duty snuffs greed – for once.

perceptive to her surroundings, it is not long before her ravenous gaze snags upon the slumped form of her intended target. amusement contorting her features with a smirk so criminal as she openly lays waste to the distance that separates she from her sister’s sister; and oh, if only she knew! blissful, ignorant fool – and even the odd sense of familiarity that strikes her is quickly disregarded in favor of intrigue. pupils at a curious rove as they waver from gored carcass to insatiable predator and back again, red the component to blur the two together.

“got lots of that, in the plains,” she baits with a hum, halting a respectful distance away from @Sersie to convey a lack of will to thieve. unlike the swamp witch she’d previously attempted to mooch an easy kill from, this woman carried a certain dangerous aura olive would not soon test. but even so, the pixie were undaunted by her commanding presence – and the one of an unfamiliar adolescent that follows. “olive,” she offers, both to the killer and @Luther ♔, less interested in the fellow recruiter who housed the same intent – to take, to win._{BG — ART — CODE}

Perhaps Maia's ambition outshone her judgement, but the fresh scent of prey drew her in to the passage just as much as the next lion. The metallic tinge of blood seemed to appeal to the most tame and to the most feral - it was a primeval instinct that simmered in the most innocent of lions. The ashen Tolkien padded toward the figures of @Olive, @Luther ♔ and @Sersie, eventually slowing down to a halt in the group. Greetings, She announces quietly, looking between the three others that had gathered. Fiery eyes fall on the bloody figure of Sersie. You have ambition. She states plainly, hoping to catch her attention above the other two. Firnen Rainforest seeks those with ambition, if it is a home you seek. Maia comments, falling silent then to await a decision, or more questions.

Sersie isn't surprised by those who come. A fresh kill often pulled out those in hiding, in wait, those passing by or so they say. She watches with a careful eye, body ready to pounce and tear at whatever she needed to should the instance arise. At first, it is a young pale male who approaches--hes big and fluffy, eyes to match a clear morning sky. His words offer her more food, should she be willing to 'work' for it. A chuff as she lapped at a rather dark piece of meat, as another came from the depths of this new land to again offer her a place, and a third to do the same.

Choices, choices, choices, and none of them seemed to appealing to the woman. She lets their hallow words ring in the silence, content to sit with her kill and stare each of them down. No matter if they were worried or frightened, she had nothing over them to give them such a shiver. Yet, old habits died hard. An apathetic, almost bored look spreads across her features as she yawns, taking note of her claws as if worried they'd might have broken from such full conversation.

"This all you have to offer me? she finally speaks, punctuated with a sigh before leaving over her kill and playfully resting her head stop it with a devious grin "It's going to take a lot more than the promise of potential and food." a cackle like ring of laughter escapes her, for but a moment. "So, why don't we try this again..." she stands now, over her food, eyeing all three suspiciously. "What do you really have to offer a stranger"

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@Luther ♔ @Olive @Maia

A brownish older woman saunters in - @Olive - as she calls herself. Of the Plains. She doesn't hesitate to taunt the woman with more food, just like Luther had done before that. Well, his father's home didn't offer anything freely, but they certainly awarded those that were willing to carve their name among the ranks handsomely. Soon a masked Firnen lioness arrives too, offering much the same. @Sersie didn't seem to show any interest. In fact, the haughty wench didn't even acknowledge Luther. Pah! If she wasn't a potential member he'd have lots of fun tearing into her hide.

"This all you have to offer me?" Her words don't seem to affect him outwardly, although the princeling feels his anger spike up on the inside. Self-control was a wonderful thing. "What do you really have to offer a stranger" she asks. I'd much rather feed you to the crocodiles in the Mire, he wants to say, but instead he nods with a kind and understanding smile. "My father's kingdom is big and wealthy of not only resources but also opportunity to rise. You can fight for almost all positions among our ranks, and you can easily climb up the ladder if power is what you seek." The boy pauses, then; "And in return, you have safety in numbers, allies more than you can count on your paw. I'd say that pales in comparison to any of the bountiful meals you can have."

like vultures, they flock to fresh meat; insatiable with a lust for more bodies. and as madame firnen descends upon the trio as an added competitor, vying for the rogue’s attention alongside she and @Luther ♔, olive spares her an acknowledging grin. a tacit fancy meeting you here! wrought in its familiarity, in the amused quirk of a brow. and although a relentless determination to win fuels her, she’d not soon damn the hopeful contenders alongside her. and @Maia, in particular, she’d not soon offend, for queens are so very intriguing.

but olive is not here to win madame firnen’s allegiance, and her gaze wavers to the prize upon her pedestal as she addresses her suitors. haughty, demanding, and her question serves to force contemplation, to anchor her lips into a slight frown. by and far, pride structure and traditions were so similar across the board – at least, from the perspective of a fickle creature who’d bounced between four kingdoms in the span of a year. but she refrains from voicing such thoughts, granting silence to the yearling as he makes his pitch for the mire. she shrugs, chiming in to bait @Sersie. “lorien plains is pretty new. my friend, ghyslaine, rules there. i know she wants to keep us neutral among the other prides, so things are kinda worry-free,” she notes, evidently new to the grueling art of diplomacy. it could have been worse, she decides. and for this, she is satisfied, the grin returning to her features._{BG — ART — CODE}

Gather up new members, useful bodies to fight and aid the pride. That is what she was doing. Taking it off her mother's shoulders and taking it on herself. The star covered princess wandered around looking for the signs of a newcomer. It didn't take long before she spotted a small gathering around a single lioness. Black paws carry her over the sand and her eyes first went to the kill and then to the lioness. There was something wrong with an eye but Elaine knew well enough that it didn't mean the lioness wouldn't be able to do things. Her ears flick as she hears what is said to the others and having been late to the party she lets them say what they need to before jumping in. Nothing is offered to strangers beyond food and shelter. Everyone earns what they get and if they can't then they don't have a place in the Bluffs. She spoke plainly while she felt the others still fluffed up their prides. Her mother didn't handle those who wanted a free ride well. There is always something to do, a battle to fight, or an enemy to shut up. The smallest smirk flickered across her features, she did enjoy a nice fight. Elaine knew that her approach wasn't the normal one but maybe, just maybe it would win out this time.

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Round and round they go, it really is tiring to the lioness. Sersie does not attempt to hide the bored expression that creeps across her visage, nor the slump in her shoulders or soft groan of dis-contempt. These types of situations were, of course, one of the many reasons she tended to simply keep to herself. Why deal with politics when claws and teeth would suffice? Short, sweet, and bloody--right to the point. That is, however, until the name of her very quarry is spoke. Her ears twitch forward, and for just one brief moment a spark of fascination rolls across her. But this is fleeting like a star across the night sky, just as soon as it appears it disappears. A million things rush through her mind--should she go with this dark pelted female? Should she waltz up and cut down this supposed prey? What if it wasn't the one she sought? Revenge would have to wait, Sersie needed more.

Her mouth begins to part when yet another approaches and Sersie is ready to scream at them to let her eat in peace. The words are the same, but the tone in which they are conveyed definetly catch her now. Her apathetic gaze turns to the speckled girl, dark brow raised as she lets the silent sit again. Blunt, to the point, just like she liked.

"You..." she begins, point with her gaze at the newcomer "I like you. Don't give a shit and tell it how it is. Even in the presence of the unknown." She stands, flexing and stretching as if to say the whole ordeal had been a drag. Green and white turn to the plain's woman, and she gives her a smirk "You can have the leftovers..." she says, with a chuff "I have a feeling we will meet again, however"

Sersie turns her head to the specked newcomer, fully intent on following her back to wherever these 'bluffs' resided.

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@Luther ♔ @Olive @Maia @Elaine --gonna have her go with elaine on this one

None of the others spoke up and the stranger focused in on Elaine and seemed to like what was being said. A smirk crossed her lips If that's your cup of tea, you'll love my mother. Amara was everything Elaine was and more, so much more. Blunt and to the point was all that Elaine knew growing up and it was all that the Bluffs was. Soft and fluffy didn't last long. It's a trip but I am sure that we can make good time. She gave a glance toward the others before turning and leading the stranger to the Bluffs. This was one of the quickest trips she had made and it was a win for the Bluffs. She hoped.

exit

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