Though he fastened his gaze upon the younger girl, it was an eerily familiar voice that answered his question. Ölvir craned his neck to see a dark brown lioness with mismatched eyes similar to his own, a tell-tale purple gaze of his uncle's wife. Curious, he arched a brow and looked around within the caverns to see a shadowed figure similar to his own.

"It's good to see you, Móðurbróðir, Frænka," he offered their familial titles, his stomach simmering with some unknown emotion. Perhaps he yearned for something that did not exist: a united, close Sigrún unit that Ölvir had never actually witnessed. Or, maybe he had merely been too young to fully grasp the unit in his last venture through Amaryllis. "I will have to tell Jago I saw you," he noted with a polite smile, thereby informing them of his brother's presence.

He might have loitered for further polite conversation if not for the distinct emptiness of the parcel at his paws. Ölvir recoiled with a creased frown, glancing around the labyrinth once more to take in the prizes the other lions hoarded for themselves contrasting against his barren log. He curled his lip with irritation, flicking his tail in an idle goodbye as he pressed further into the tunnels to try and stubbornly locate another log for himself to replace the defective one. This was when he picked up a sweet scent on the subtle cave winds.

Ölvir arched to take a lesser-traveled path, weaving his way through the tunnels like a practiced native. It seemed someone was stalking him, and he could only anticipate nefarious purposes would motivate someone to do such to a young Sigrún lion. He dodged and tucked, only finally whirling around to try and face whoever it was following him. Oh, but there was that pelt of cinnamon brown – that contrasting pair of green and blue jewels that bore into him with dazzling light.

"Oh," he paused, straightening slightly when he realized she was merely entertained with unwrapping a present of her own. The boy glanced to his left and his right, ushering over to the first log he found and attempting to slide it toward her lamely. "Here's one," he offered, staring at her for a moment before he turned to locate a bundle of his own.

---

@Cassandra @Myrkvi @Faizah
+5 - Scout a neutral territory
+5 - Leave a trail of confusing tracks
+5 - Get into some mischief

Gifts ( _, _, _, _, _ )
Attempt #2:

Rolling 1d3: 2

code by corvus | img by cush

Nothing was found at first, that of course frustrated him dearly. Yet more and more came to the event, more lions he didnt know. All ignored him, well it didn't mattered, he didnt mind. He was used to be on his own, being noticed or not was not of his concern anymore. So instead of talking to any of them he ignored them back. He had better things to do than talking to lions who he saw as trash. And like that he kept on his own spot, searching once more for a gift for himself. Ears up as his green eyes were dressed in annoyance for them all. Attempt 2/5 Rolling 1d3: 3

art by Shazaki and code by Shazaki

{Ash!} Deirdre scooped up what looked like something valuable quickly, really it was whatever was in front of her so might literally have just been some rocks. Happily she bound across the length of the labyrinth's tunnel towards her brother and aimed a good thump of her skull to his head. {What didja find let me see let me see.} Maybe she'd get a clue what they were all actually looking for. {I bet I can find better stuff than you just you wait and see.} It immediately became a challenge now, one in which the young Svend was utterly determined to best Ash at. There was no way he was going to seem more competent than her in this strange Amaryllis tradition when he's just gotten here.

Gift 1- Petals (2)
Gift 2-

Rolling 1d3: 1

A bit more prying and she would see the shine of something of deep red. She hoped it would be something to eat, but what finally fell out was a hard glittering garnet. While pretty, she was admittedly disappointed to some degree. Perhaps she could find some use for it.. maybe as a gift for her mother or sister.

She would realize then that her stare had not gone unnoticed, @Ash had seen it and was now approaching her. Ears would droop some as he neared, clearly prepared to get yelled at or lectured for her poor manners. Instead, he offered to help her. She looked up at him stupidly for a moment, as if his reaction was unfathomable. Um.. I.. I was just hoping to find food. If you like sparkly rocks I could give you mine if you have food.. if you don't want food. She looked awkwardly down at her paws then, wishing she could start over. Words never came very easily for her when put on the spot.

Regardless of his answer, she would busy herself with the section of log in front of her, hoping to find something of value to her.

Gifts ( 2, _, _, _, _ )

Rolling 1d3: 3

More goodies, and another jig follows as Faizah delights in her find -- completely hooked on the momentary joy that these logs brought her.

This is cut short when the yearling realises that she has been caught by @Ölvir who offers her a log. If she could visibly blush, she would as she eyes the log that has been pushed forward in her direction. "You're far too kind," she responds with a broad grin, grabbing one nearby and placing it by his feet in return.

"Let's open them at the same time," Faizah declares, sitting close by the Sigrun as she begins to pry open her third log.

Rolling 1d3: 2

Attempt One: 10XP, Rolled a 1
Attempt Two: 25 Petals, Rolled a 2

Nothing yet, despite all of his attempts. And anger was rising, he wanted to win in all things, he wanted to prove himself worth. But he understood victory wasn't to be obtained all the time. But it didn't mean he enjoyed it. His fluffy fur moving along his heavy steps, tail high while his claws blushed slightly against the stone ground. Making a noise here and there. But he didnt care if it could bother someone, he did what he wanted and no one could stop him. There he moved to a different section, eyes all into the ground before his paws. Once more ignoring those around him. He wasnt one to beg for attention. He could couldn't care any less about them all. Attempt: 3 Rolling 1d3: 3

art by Shazaki and code by Shazaki

He knit his ivory brows together as he watched her dance over her find in those brief moments before their eyes met, her joy so fully felt, even if it was in solitude. He could not help the way his mouth tugged at one corner, his heart doing a small lurch in his chest as their eyes met. It was as if the encounter with the hyenas had poisoned him, every recollection of their initial meeting sending his nervous system into a toxic frenzy. She called him kind. Had anyone, ever, thought of him as such? Ölvir could find no words for a moment, standing there lamely in the shadows, until it occurred to him that she had made a request of him.

"Let's open them at the same time."

"Ya," he agreed, jerking his head to look down at the log she had placed gingerly before him. It felt wrong, somehow, to smash the thing – even if she had not been the one to carefully place berries and greenery upon its rough encasing. Instead, Ölvir shoved the mitt of his paw into one end, attempting to feel around for a prize to yank out as he glanced up at the delicate girl to make sure he got the timing right in sync.

---

@Faizah

Gifts ( Petals, _, _, _, _ )
Attempt #3:

Rolling 1d3: 1

code by corvus | img by cush

So enthralled in the log game, Faizah does not see the way he watches her. If she had, perhaps the yearling would wonder if she had something on her face. Admittedly, the striped figurine does not have a wealth of experience with the other sex so it is easy for her to confuse the butterflies in the pit of her stomach as mere intrigue for a new friend.

She squeals when his gift to her is a successful one, Faizah launching herself @Ölvir's way without a second thought -- log dropped as her forelimbs aim to wrap about his neck. "Thank you! Thank you! This is lovely!" A pause then as she attempts to look at the log that she had chosen for him, hoping that he had also been blessed.

Dancing away, Faizah selects one more for both herself and her company. "Let's go again." And without waiting, the striped yearling begins to open her gift to therself.

Rolling 1d3: 1

Attempt One: 10XP, Rolled a 1
Attempt Two: 25 Petals, Rolled a 2
Attempt Three: 25 Petals, Rolled a 2

speech


@Deirdre would come over, instantly peering into his pile of goodies to see what he got. “Hey, hey, these are mine.” He huffed, pretending to be offended. She could find her own treasures. It was all in good fun and it was done with a grin on his face. It wouldn’t take long before she was bouncing off to another log, determined to beat him…he would roll his eyes, smirking. He didn’t want her to win though, so he would turn back to his log to see what goodies he had actually gotten, just as the other girl would approach him. She looked as if she were prepared to be scolded.

She seemed even more surprised by his offering and then offered to trade, food for trinkets. He didn’t have much use for trinkets but the small girl seemed like she was hungry. He would look back to the log as it cracked open the rest of the way. It was not full of fruit, but more furs. He was almost disappointed. “Sure. I uh, I have some fruit here. It's not much…but it's something?” He would tilt his head, bending so that he could push open the pouch of fur to reveal the apples, blueberries and peaches. He’d nose them towards her, off the makeshift pouch.

Then he would go back to cracking open the log that he was on. Maybe this one would have more food in it?

Rolling 1d3: 2

Attempt 1- 25 petals (2)
Attempt 2- 10 exp (1)
Attempt 3- 25 petals (2)
Attempt 4- failure
Attempt 5- failure
Attempt 6- unknown


@Deirdre @Bordeaux

ART BY ERA, CODE BY LARS

Make my messes matter
Make this chaos count

What fell out of of the log was a rock, just a rock, nothing special or interesting about it. Weird.

Glancing at Gentian who had failed to warn him about the tripping hazard, Darcia continued his explorations before nearly, nearly stumbling over another one of the little logs. It was smaller than the last, but the moment his paw brushed wood he pounced back and brought his paw back down over the little vessel with a growl.

It splintered slightly under the hit, and once more he heard something rattle was not just breaking wood. Another rock? Who was doing this and why? Was it some sort of booby trap or alarm system? The yearling added more pressure onto the surface of the little log until it broke open, revealing...

Rolling 1d3: 1

Attempt #2
Gifts: none

Let every little fracture
In me shatter out loud

_{BG — ART — CODE}