She'd been on the move for so long.

She could scarcely remember a time she'd ever stayed in one place long enough to call it home — separated from family and kin, with only her wits keeping her alive. Ludivine didn't mind a solitary lifestyle, but the scent of others in great quantity was enough to pull at her curiosity and drive her to the borders of Amaryllis.

There she waits, the blood of her own painted across her maw like grotesque lipstick. Having just freshly eaten — just freshly killed — left a new kind of yearning gnawing at the pit of her stomach: the yearning to belong. Settling her lean haunches on the ground, she begins to groom herself. Make herself presentable to whoever she might run across. She doesn't expect an audience, having no knowledge of the lands she just stumbled across, but the overpowering stench of congregating lions is enough evidence that these lands were no longer barren of her kind.

He could not help the way his stomach fluttered with nerves as he made his way steadily across the sandy borders of Amaryllis. Bruno could ignore the whisperings of Luther's ventures to the passage no longer. The white prince was always several strides ahead of him – stronger, faster, more charismatic (in front of polite company, at least). The last thing he needed was for his littermate to get praised for a better work ethic.

So, the yearling prince made his way toward a scent on the breeze. He had been attracted to the scent of rogue at first, only to get a distinctly metallic stench mixed in the closer he got in his pursuit. Blood. Furrowing his brows with curiosity, he stopped once he was several yards away from another figure.

"Welcome to Amaryllis," he greeted neutrally, picking up the scent of a female finally. Perhaps he would have claimed her if not for his own nerves and her apparent seniority. "If you're looking for somewhere to stay, Ecrosia Mire is one of our most long-standing prides." Bruno informed her with a solemn stare, a single ringlet falling and obstructing his gaze.

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|| january y9 | 1y 5m | EM royalty | at maua's passage | @Ludivine ||

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Her wounds at least crusted over, the blood had been long since cleaned from her fur- though on occasion the deepest of the wounds still oozed when she moved wrong. Yet, that did little to slow her down. It didn't keep her from the passage, a place she found much amusement and enjoyment to be found. That's where she found herself again, and it was... with interest, that she found herself spying two figures in the distance... and of course, she had to swagger on towards them with her usual aloofness.

Nearing them, she cast a wry grin at them both, and cooed at them both, "Well hello there dears." She said, her grin widening. "Helah Molotov, Noble of Wolfbron Bluffs." She grinned a bit at the title noble, because she was anything but. "If you're in the market for a pride... perhaps you'd be interested in hearing a bit about a pride led by a kick-ass Queen, Amara Dieudonné." She said, hyping up the female who ruled the pride she resided in. Hell, she rather liked Amara- why not hype her up a bit. She was alright in Helah's book. "We've got a cool ass heiress too. Worth following, worth getting to know." At least in Helah's book she was.

@Ludivine @Bruno ♔

ART BY MOOGLE, CODE BY LARS

PSYCHOSOCIAL

The great stretch of a rutted sandbar has forever held its place in his finest disdain. It is not the caress of coastal grasses or the lilt of honeysuckle teased on the cold of the wind that draws him. There is no memory that smiles upon his feet, no warmth garnered in the spread of his paws through the shifting sands. One day the ocean would wash over the damned thing, and they would be luckier for it.

No, not song or sand or salve of the mind compels him. But duty, obligation, the peace of mind found in company...

It is blood that compels. It is king, cogent. All fever of the mind regressed to heat, fervor, hunger - Gauthier is the wolf in the brush, the ridge of his spine painted in cypress shadow. Each long drag of the night air is with its floral rust, the tinge of decadence, folded on the ridge of his tongue.

He rose over the castaway sands, the silhouettes of strangers, their idle talk of the Mire, Wolfbron. They exist in some abyss beyond, wavering shadows, bobbing wisps on the fringe of his vision, dulled murmurs of existence. His eyes tread the line of @Ludivine's dark lips instead, their glistening red, the matted tendrils of a yester violence. And her eyes gleamed as if full of it, and yearning still for more ---

Lapping thirst against the break of his teeth, he raised the slope of his skull against the weight of starlight, the haze of sea air. Do you want more? he called low, the smooth of his voice culled by the sharpness of shadows, violent elegance split raw and hot with appetance.

@Bruno ♔, @Helah

She spots them coming, lone figurines dancing across the open expanse of terrain in her direction. The world lacks, just as much as it does offer — and the first to step beyond the threshold is a young male, scarcely old enough to grow a crown upon his nape. Ludivine watches @Bruno ♔ with great curiosity, so slow in lapping the blood from her maw that it's almost obscene — but she stops the minute he does, allowing the mask of gore to still taint her flesh.

He looks so fragile as he stands there, beckoning her into the new lands — Amaryllis, was it? How sweet it unfolds on her tongue.

“Thank you,” she greets back, though she knows his words are no doubt rehearsed, rather than given out of true welcoming. “It has been a long time since I've seen myself amongst others,” she continues — vague, in her response, and neither agreeing nor declining his invitation. She does neither, for the horizon carries more in her direction. More pawns to play whatever game of chess it is they play here, sacrificing one another in the name of being the first to call Checkmate.

Her salmon-coloured gaze drifts to @Helah next, ears flicked forward to listen to her speech. Oh so proud in the way she describes herself first, pride second — and it is that description that draws her attention. A soft hum in her throat, wind rustling the thick fur that lines her neck and chest.

“Hello,” she greets back, blood-slicked lips twisted into a criminal grin, “what an interesting pride of yours.” She doesn't say it yet — doesn't reveal the cards she has tucked in her sleeve. Not until the last stranger approaches.

His grand approach, a heathen's crown atop his head as he swoops in amongst the others; just another devil playing the game of whose soul he can steal. She notes his eyes — the way they're trained to her maw as she shifts back and forth. Mesmerized perhaps by the bloodied jewel of life that she devoured. A hunger in @Gauthier's voice as he speaks, deep carnal sin that threatens her very core.

He promises so much—

“My eyes are up here.” Coy, cheeky — she tilts her skull and languidly laps up the remaining blood, eyes devilish slits as the corners of her mouth crook into a grin. Her gaze lingers for only a second longer before it traverses between the three of them; the female being the only one to actually introduce herself to the new lady. She stores the information, hungry for more.

“I wish to know more,” she begins to speak, to each of them in turn. “Your names and position in your prides — as Helah was so generous to offer already — and what you want from me. Is it just a number you're looking for... Or someone with potential?” She speaks with conviction and passion; should she pledge herself to anyone, she wanted to know they'd be just as useful to her, as vice versa.

Erudite Experience
+5 Learn a character's full name and rank

His skin crawled like swarming bugs as he stared at the lioness, her locked eye contact giving him a front-seat view of her slowly licking the blood from her lips. It was revolting, frankly. Bruno twitched his lip as he stood in the silence, her eventual greeting thoughtful and calculated while they were joined by another pair of lions – each of them equally strange to Bruno, who was not quite yet the debutant political figure he was perhaps supposed to be.

"Amaryllis is full of others," he responded, unclear in whether he viewed this as a perk or a burden in hailing from the land. Ultimately, he figured it would be up to the lioness to decide this for herself. Their kind did rather seem to like talking and tormenting rather than the concrete action that came with solitude.

He shifted his olive gaze briefly to the others that arrived, noting the arrogance of Amara's toadie and the unnerving intensity of the man, whose coat smelled like the sea he had come to recognize on the al-Najma lions. With his attention fixated upon their rogue company, Bruno took the time to linger on his dusty brown coat and rugged scarring, his eyes an intense whirl of sea green and sunset red like staring into oblivion itself. It was enough to get lost in if the lilt of a question did not rip his attention involuntarily back to their guest of honor. "Your names and position in your prides — and what you want from me."

"Bruno Stärke, prince of Ecrosia," he obliged with a curt nod. Ludivine was not the only one keeping cards close to her chest, as Bruno's litter had been instructed from their earliest youth not to give out both of their surnames carelessly, lest the sins of their careless mother come back to haunt them ever after.

"I want you to aid in our strength. We all benefit from aligning ourselves with strong lions," the boy explained with a shrug. Truthfully, he probably had the least interest invested in this lioness beyond fulfilling his princely chores. He was no king, and he had little to gain by describing his father as a "badass". There he stood, regardless. "My father rewards his allies handsomely. We already have numbers, but you're welcome to be one of those if you like." Bruno informed her with a glint of humor in his gaze, unable to keep it from shifting back to the beach-dweller.

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@Ludivine @Helah @Gauthier

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Helah's eyes are busy, busy, as she studies the female with a lazy sort of look- scanning over her body- noting that she appears both pretty, and strong- and then she studies the male that reeks of the swamp. Not as pretty as the other, but a rugged sort of handsome, and she merely grins in his direction. "How's the swamp treating you, handsome? Sure you don't wanna branch out too?" She coos towards him. @Bruno ♔

Then another arrives, and she regards him silently- staring at him as he approaches- @Gauthier ... There is something quite interesting about this male, and she merely grins at him, as he speaks to the lioness, her eyes shift back to her.

Oh, quippy. Helah immediately likes her- wants to stake a claim on a lioness that so clearly belongs in Wolfbron. She was quick to say things- cheeky, but not stupid with her words. As she goes on to speak, she calls her offer of information generous and not... a trap of information, and she merely grins coyly. She lets the swamp male speak, noting that he calls his father the king... and is a prince of the land. Interesting... Bruno Starke... Interesting.

And it was her turn.

"Wolfbron values females- we know they're stronger and smarter than males." A coy smiles to the males present. "We value strength and ambition, you'd be expected to contribute to the pride, and we have ranks that are challengeable- if you wish to climb higher within the pride. As such, we support those with ambition and strength- as long as you're loyal to us- to our Queen."

@Ludivine

ART BY MOOGLE, CODE BY LARS

PSYCHOSOCIAL

And they gleam as bright - as sharp - as cruel, a rose bled from a thorn: the glint of her gaze catches the cast of his own. Aside, there is only static, the clipped chirp of political chatter, the groan of the sea as it washed its way up the ridges. Of him there is only phantom cold and the embers of appetite, envy. He merely grinned to the banter, unscathed, appreciative of its bite.

Her first audience are quick to make amends for her request. A Starke the boy claims, and the thatch of a yearling physique shows its subtle truths for the cadence. Ripped from Alaric's very fabric, the richness of the mire clings to him. The youth casts Gauthier some wary glances between claims, ones he minds only from the corner of his eyes and the slow curl of an impish grin. The other crows of Wolfbron, the prowess of lionesses, their needs. No bitterness born between her words. He wouldn't argue any facet of her bold speech, not even if there had been any worth in it.

Only silence and an easy grin sharp as the horns of the waning moon.

He is patient enough only until their words are done. There is no grandiose sweep of some royal pride that rides his teeth or princely features when he says, Gauthier Devorre, King of Caladan Cove. He is not a grand politician, some debonair magician spinning starlight from a coat of straw. A heathen king of sand, salt, sky, and blood - he speaks plainly, intently. I don't just seek numbers. I want those with a true hunger, unafraid to take what they want. To indulge— by each finery of lacing droplet, every vein, every breath; as her jaws have tasted, lapped with honeyed ichor —in what this world has to offer. His eyes steeled in the dark of his brow, their oceanic tumult filthed in red, a promise of violence. I want much, and I give nothing less.

Mad, ravenous. Licking clean the bones of a dying age in its final raking breaths. He doesn't wish to fill a court with mindless soldiers. Not to sit in a throne built on the backs of loyalty, languishing in ephemeral delights. He wants to stoke the flames of a rising hell; savage devils, divine and desolate, neck to neck in brutality.

A Tsar.

@Ludivine, @Bruno ♔, @Helah

Like trained soldiers, they wait their turns to speak, ever careful not to speak over one another — not to barter for her, as though she were nothing more than a piece of meat for their choosing. The politeness is not lost on her — but it is enough to draw wariness to her features, a curved brow of curiosity as pinkened eyes draw from one to the next. Ever dutiful to listen, to learn — to reap knowledge.

The young boy speaks first, introducing himself as a prince — ah, she was amongst royalty, what an honour — and she observes much more than she does listen. The listless shrug, the casual glances at the others rather than focusing his attention on her. Ludivine does not think of her so highly that she believes herself to demand the respect of those before her, but still, she cares not for the manner in which @Bruno ♔ greets her to these lands. Offering her nothing more than the promise of a proposed rewards for her supposed strength.

Silent, she moves to the next.

@Helah speaks next, flamboyant words filled with adoration and pride in her, well, pride. There is great reverence in the way she holds herself, and speaks with such passion it is almost compelling — but she makes a mistake. Though the bloodline of Queens runs in her blood, the French lioness does not see her above others simply because of what may lay between their legs. Rather, she seeks strength in both physical, as well as mental prowess — and she does not appreciate the idea that she may rise above others simply because she lacks what others may have. But she does not show her disappointment.

An appreciative pause, a grin — then her gaze turns to the last heathen. A king has deigned her worthy enough to approach, and she shows a toothy smile as he introduces himself. What a range of soldiers marching to the battlefield, all of such noble beginnings. @Gauthier is not as straightforward as the others. He is cryptic in his words, a sword that lay concealed until the right time to strike. It is the cryptic nature of his words that draw her in... That draw out the feral beast that lurks within. Like a poison it spreads and seeps into her very veins, drawn in by the monster that offers her the opportunity to nurture said creature.

“Such a welcome, I feel so honoured,” she finally speaks once they had all said their piece — an olive branch, offered to all present, even though only one may be rewarded with her. “Unfortunately, as it is a decision I must make, it is the King that will win my interest at this time,” she continues as she finally draws herself to her feet, a serpentine elegance, wrought with Godly blood — a Queen's crown against her throat.

“However, I will no doubt be seeing you again,” she continues with a pause, a generous lilt of her voice, as her gaze settles on Helah once more. “It would be good to catch up with family.” It's all she says — but it offers information to them all, should they be able to understand the meaning behind her words. She grins — feral — then looks to her new liege.

“You may call me Ludivine.”

Vague disinterest quickly turned into annoyance simmering within his gut. "Wolfbron values females- we know they're stronger and smarter than males." Bruno glanced at the lioness, stubbornly refusing to allow a reaction to settle visibly on his features. Why then, he wondered, would his father ever align himself with the delusional pride? Doubt began to weigh on him, the beginnings of anger begging to be released. He did not dare speak, for fear of shouting at the woman and laying his cards out bare. No – Bruno's best work had to be done with subtlety and tact, even when others lacked it so clearly.

The lion in their presence hardly acknowledged him, though perhaps it was best he was not caught staring. "Gauthier Devorre, King of Caladan Cove." He gave an introduction, confirming for Bruno that this was the ally who replaced the al-Najma helm. Now we're stuck with them, he thought bitterly, thinking back to the black lioness entranced with his idiot brother.

Finally, the rogue spoke her piece, pledging herself to the cove king. Bruno stared between them, rejection settling upon him heavily simply for what it was. A wiser lion might be glad simply to know an ally was gaining a member, but he could not see past his own nose – past the apparent failure of it. That was until she revealed herself to be related to the Wolfbron heathens. The prince arched a brow, glancing between them before quickly dipping his head in departure.

"Best of luck," he muttered, hardly sticking around long enough to learn her name – Ludivine. He did not imagine it would be a relevant one.

---

-exit- @Helah @Gauthier @Ludivine
+5 - Gather information about a character (Gauthier is CC king)
+5 - Gather information about a character (Ludivine is joining CC)
+5 - Gather information about a character (Helah is misandristic)

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