What are you doing, boy? Yet if she was honest with herself there was little shock in hearing her nephew calling for the longest standing ruler in all the kingdoms, intent on taking her crown. Recklessness was in his blood on both sides. It had killed his father young. Her mouth was turned into a grimace as she moved toward the Pit, knowing that regardless of the outcome this challenge would not end without bloodshed and intent on being there for @Arkyn either way.

Purple and silver landed on him first as she descended into the pit. He looked very much like his father, she thought as her attention shifted to where the heavily pregnant @Fernweh and the two ruby cloaked forms of @Azanty and Zahra. She was just about the cross the Pit to join them when another less pleasant voice reached her, intent on the same destination. Her head turned slowly to where he moved toward her noble, swaggering and arrogant as ever. Moreso even, it seemed, with the added weight of the crown on his thick skull.

---

Gods grant me the power to wipe that smug look from his maw. "I really don't fucking like you," she snarled at the ruby eyed frenchman, but she could not deny the primal satisfaction at having the excuse to fight him again. She moved slowly toward him as her defenses slipped naturally into place, lowering her skull as she picked up speed, claws slipping from their sheathes as she moved, gripping the familiar bloodstained earth of the Pit.

Jaws dropped open in anticipation as she aimed to approach from his right shoulder. Her left front paw would lift from the earth, adjusting her weight to the other three limbs as she attempted to swing her claws at the flesh on his shoulder near his armpit. Open jaws would attempt to lunge for the right side of his face, attempting to latch onto his lower cheek if her aim was true enough, but anything to rid herself of that maddening smirk would be sufficient.
@Morrigan ♔ vs. @Vermier
For @Zahra ♔
Round I / III
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 12 + 15 + 13 + 16 + 10 + 19 + 6 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 5 + 13 + 3 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 5 + 7 + 2 + 18 + 15 + 14

table by ferus, art by grav3wolf

[[super vague timelines go!]]

Interesting. It had been a while since he'd heard anyone call for the bluffs. He was no more certain of Amara's opinion toward him, but she'd been a decent acquaintance to have and it was always hilarious to watch lions throw themselves against the wall of force that was the Wolfbron horde. Like a bit of fragile driftwood crashing against an ocean cliff.

The pit was a familiar landscape, and he could let his mind wander as he made his way toward the natural arena. Here's where we're going to be really vague about his general condition because of timelines, so suffice to say he arrived at the challenge and found himself a seat in an open space on the sidelines. It didn't look like Amara had arrived yet, but it seemed Vermier was already causing trouble, so that was fun.

I'm a friend of the devil I'm a dangerous rebel

Fighting my way through the sins of the street I'm feeling psycho, psycho Where did my mind go? Biting my tongue and I'm loading my gun Back to the wind, better run, better run I'm feeling crazy, crazy Go 'head and make me It's the life that I can't escape, can't walk away There's blood in the ocean And I'm losing focus I'm a friend of the devil I'm a dangerous rebel

code by corvus

The young mother had woken up to her two youngest children pulling on her cheek fluff and begging her to wake up and to go out and explore, and try as she might, they did not listen to her grumbles and protests, so once she realized she was not going to be allowed to go back to sleep, she stirred and stood up. As she trailed behind the two children, she swatted her husband playfully, Oh, no sleeping beauty, if I'm not getting my beauty sleep, you're not either. C'mon, get up or else. She winked at him, and trailed her tail under his chin before leaving the den.

The family was having a good day, the Bluffs were quiet, the sky was gorgeous, the sun warmed their fur, so when the call rang out it didn't register to the mother until he cubs were tucked underneath of her shaking, instincts telling them that a usurper could mean death or at least harm to them or their parents. Tripfires voice brought her back in the moment, her eyes wide with worry, she felt his head press against hers and she whined softly, My love.. Her forehead pressed back, her nostrils flared as she breathed in his scent, before pulling back and looking to Beñat, Grab your sister, we need to go. She cast one more look to @Tripfire, her expression filling with love and worry, if she could, she would be with him, backing him, but she knew they needed her, just as the pride needed Trip. Her jaws gently picked up one of the two cubs and she waited for @Beñat to grab his sister before she would turn and leave quickly for the den.

/Pyracantha is hiding with her three cubs

The yearling titan propped himself up on an elbow, ripping his mismatched gaze away from the sky above and casting it upon the horizon. A call rang out – unfamiliar, though its intent was clear. Ölvir's pulse quickened as he wondered who ruled the bluffs then. After all, there was no telling how much of Amaryllis had changed since his parents walked the seas and the hollows.

He broke out into a steady run, his frame hulking and lumbering with each kiss his paws made against the dull earth. He had yet to fill out the fullness of his adult frame, bones jutting and poking in places where they ought not to. His long strides and convenient positioning made quick work of launching him toward the pit, its bustling arena a host to dozens of griping lions already by the time the boy approached it.

Ölvir was just in time to witness it – his scarlet aunt, to start, the warmth of a familiar face only allowed there for a moment before he caught sight of a male making his way to her. He furrowed his brows, pressing his panting mouth into a thin line as he clenched his jaw into consideration.

"Hope you like dark."

The context of it was lost on him initially, perhaps to blame on a thick, tonguey accent. Ölvir crept slowly between the bodies of the crowd, paying little attention to others except for the chosen few of this scene. It was only when he was close enough to catch the wind's scent that he understood. This was the new leader of Obsidian. He matched the scent of the border marker easily, the comment of the dark only confirming it that much more for the young stranger. He gritted his teeth in a thinly-veiled snarl, quickening as if about to break out into a run when another voice rang out.

"I really don't fucking like you," muttered a large woman, hesitating only a moment before she launched toward the challenger. Ölvir steeled himself, his stomach churning with raging unease. He tried to remind himself of his lack of authority – that he could not save her from the claim, even if he had gotten there first. It did little to help him forgive.

Pushing forward with his head low, Ölvir attempted to pull up to Zahra's side with a wide defensive crouch. He only flicked his tail toward her in a silent greeting, unable to tear his wild glare from gliding around the scene in search of any potential assailants. There would be no picking off of the few Sigrúns he had left.

---

|| may y9 | 1y 7m | rogue yearling | at the pit | OPEN @Zahra ♔ @Vermier @Morrigan ♔ ||

code by corvus | img by cush

code & bg-credit

How curious this place was with their seemingly endless battles. And yet Drena could not help but be enthralled by the very nature of it. She was a war hound; she was no stranger to the ferocity of battle. And oh, how she missed the feeling of another's flesh giving way beneath her teeth. Like a moth to a flame, she drew closer, moving past the scattered bones of others passed, some crunching beneath heavy paws as she treads closer still. Drena would ignore the shadows clouding her judgment and for a moment would focus breathlessly upon the two at the center of the many bodies gathered. She would peer past, her gaze narrowing and landing upon the woman and man. Selfishly she wanted the woman to win, what an upset it would be. But the man was abnormally large, perhaps one of the largest lions she had seen in her time. Drena had heard of rumors of gargantuan beasts in foreign lands; perhaps she had finally found such a place. Pulling her haunches beneath her to sit she would wait and watch, though her gaze would slip for just a moment, distracted by the voice of an obsidian woman claiming her dislike for another. She knew exactly where that was going, another fight to be had amongst the bodies. Again, perhaps the woman would win, it would thrill her if so.

*Drena is open for a fight or well .. anything really -


[barbarian exp/double thanks to amara]
+10 - Observe a fight (Arkyn vs. Amara)
+10 - Observe a fight (Morrigan vs. Vermier)

The call simultaneously makes his blood boil and instills excitement, the promise of another magnificent victory too exciting. He arrives at the poor, wretched man who dared to outstretch his grubby little paws for the Dieudonne stronghold, a feigned glance of pity his way. The starry-furred woman will tear him apart.

And if not her - then her hounds will. Apollinaire was the most keen guard dog.

He couldn't wait for the fight to begin, jealousy rising within his chest. His muscles quivered beneath taut brown fur and it was difficult to restrain himself from launching into action. He was still suffering from minor injuries across his face and limbs from an encounter in the Jungle, but the mild pain did not stop him. Even if the wounds threatened to reopen with every step, he was invigorated. The voice of a woman cheering the challenger made his eyes snap dangerously to her seating, Vermier's approach and challenge making him turn away and seat himself beside @Louve ♔. "J'ai... un petit creux." I am feeling... peckish. His lips parted in a grin that revealed a bit too much fang, red eyes darting left and right frantically.

+10 Witness an event worthy of making history
+5 Slack off or shirk one's responsibilities

With a low growl, Luther halted in his tracks mid-way stalking an intruder's scent across the plains, his ears perking at the sound of the challenge ringing through the valley. Wolfbron. His interest was piqued, for challenges for the Bluffs were rare, and he knew that the current ruler, Amara, had been in power for many years. Well, fuck that intruder. He probably got away anyways. Watching the matriarchate possibly crumbling was something he would not miss. Could it be that Amara's time had finally come? There was a subtle hope that she would lose, if only to watch her fall from her high horse. Wolfbron was an unfortunate alliance that his Vater has forged and Luther would enjoy seeing it crumble, especially when he didn't have to lift a finger.

Curiosity burning within him, Luther made his way towards The Pit with a languid stride. He had been nearby, so it did not take long for him to arrive. As he approached, he could see that besides one fight that was already ongoing, between the ruler of Illyria and the ruler of Obsidian, the male who challenged for the Bluffs was still waiting. Boo. He was there to see the main event, not some sideline scruffle.

Seating himself among the crowd, Luther waited impatiently, his eyes scanning the crowd for any clues as to who the challenger might be.

Tinúviel is attempting to remain hidden.

Another challenge, and this one from a far more recognizable challenger than the last had been. It had appeared Tiamat's ascension had spurred the more ambitious characters of the peninsula, and the relative peace that Tinúviel had prospered in for that brief amount of time shattered all at once. She feared what come next; not just for the Lagoon, but for the Mire as well. When would one of these calls someday be for Alaric? When would she be forced to bare witness to his continued prosperity, or his abrupt and chaotic fall? The idea of it frightened her; she pushed it to the back of her head, willed it to disappear.

Instead, she was content to linger upon its outskirts. The challenger who called for the Bluffs now was the same man who had thrust himself into her own challenge and demanded the two fight; vaguely, Tinúviel recalled the white-hot ire of his words, and the frustration and annoyance those around them had felt at his persistence. Secretly, darkly, she hoped for his failure; perhaps whoever lead the Bluffs were far greater and far stronger than the young man who sought to usurp them. Perhaps then he would get the fight he so desperately desired.

She lingered above the Pit far enough away to catch the sudden clashing of different forms, similar to her own challenge. The mountain-dwelling Summit Queen (who Tinúviel vaguely recognized from that challenge so long ago) threw herself into the fray with another lion, and though Tinúviel were not close enough to hear why, she could see their silhouettes fighting against the horizon, just enough to see if one or the other sustained a grievous injury. Knowing well now that this had the chance of exploding into something larger, she hastily began to search for herbs. The territory was somewhat familiar, and very quickly was she able to pluck some from between the large, forlorn boulders, desperate to hear for any more clamoring in the Pit.

---

+5 Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds (1/2)
+5 Dry or prepare herbs for use (1/2)
+5 Study the flora of a neutral territory (1/2)

Art by AleTie, table by cala

+10 Remain undetected in a large thread (5+ characters)
+10 Learn something about pride/group/family relations (IS dislikes OH)
+5 Observe a fight

Ottilie's ears perked up at the sound of a challenging roar that echoed through the valley, immediately spurring her on to go and observe. Wolfbron today.

As she walked, she couldn't help but feel a sense of surprise at the idea of another challenge. The female High Sovereign of Wolfbron Bluffs had been in power for a long time, and the plum princess wondered if she will maintain her power today too.

When she arrived at the Pit, she found the area bustling with activity. Lions of all shapes and sizes had gathered to watch the fight, their voices a deafening roar of excitement. She crept closer, using rocks and bushes to shield herself from view as she watched the fight on the sidelines and waited for the main event to begin.

She watched intently as a man and a woman were engaged in battle already. Her eyes narrowed in on the two, the black-furred female of Illyria expressing a particular dislike for the Obsidian man. As she watched the fight, she couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue at the dynamics between the two prides and their leaders.

code / artwork

Make my messes matter
Make this chaos count

Every other step was another deeper gouge in one spot or another as he wound a circle along the upper outcroppings, a mindless marker being place to keep the boy's mind partially occupied as he did the dull task of searching out faces.

It didn't take long for chaos to spring up, though he imagined it was not the main event. A young woman appeared to be at the center of the brewing tension, along with a ragged looking man that was quickly confronted. Darcia couldn't surmise the exact cause from where he stood, but he was also a touch wary of leaping down where so many where clustered together. If some sort of mass fight broke out, he would have his paws full trying to wrangle himself free of a brawl he had no stakes in.

But, curiosity was a strong motivator.

Ceasing his circling, the prince dared a few descending leaps to get closer to where the action was, perhaps even overhear something worth knowing.


+5 use terrain to your advantage
+5 mark a trail through a territory

Let every little fracture
In me shatter out loud

_{BG — ART — CODE}