Hearing @Laveau's comment, Poltergeist narrowed his eyes and looked at her. He sucked in a breath and stated flatly, "Shut up." Clearly, though, that wasn't all she had to say... and at this, he was surprised. She had been doing her homework here.

His eyes followed as she spoke and pointed. Adeodatus, the Mire challenger. OK. Morrigan, the Summit queen. She won. OK. Astarte? Hm, he wasn't aware Gauthier had a sister, but... OK. And a war raged because... it was threatened to. Of course. The mire lions just couldn't keep it in their pants, could they? Had to rock out with their... claws out. "Mhm... You've certainly been paying attention." It almost gave him hope that Laveau really was trying to gather information like he asked her to. Almost.

But when Poltergeist returned his eyes to the chaos, he was looking for a different set of lions. Archaic and Opium. This was their home... surely they had to be here. There were so many fights going on, it was hard to spot who was who, but he eventually found Archaic among them... fighting, surprisingly. Losing, looked like. But he couldn't find Opium. "Archaic's here... but where is his precious, little counterpart?" he murmured, not really asking... but not really not asking either.

code (c) cala

She smirks as he tells her to shut up, her eyes look back to him before flitting away, she accepted his words, nodding gently, her ears flicking back, she knew the Mire lions to be warriors, act first, talk later, his last question had her scanning the land. "Hmm.., I actually haven't seen her just yet. Maybe she stayed home, safe away from this." She gestures with A paw at the mess.

"Archaic's fighting Alaric's son." She pointed out the yearling, "I think from his second litter maybe." She shrugged, and once again looked back to her husband, "Rumor has it, Alaric's son ripped the face off of another boy."

image by moogle/code by saph

Poltergeist's eyes still looked out there, watching for a small flash of vibrant colors to cross their path... but they didn't. Why was he looking for the girl? No reason, really. He just liked to keep tabs on his family, and while Archaic was accounted for... Opium was still missing in action. And he knew her well enough to know that this was something she would not miss.

"Maybe she did," he answered @Laveau , but he didn't believe it for a second. After a few more seconds, Laveau pointed out that Archaic was fighting one of Alaric's more... violent sons. He winced at the rumor she spoke of, and while glancing at her, he said, "Save me the gorey details. Let's hope he doesn't plan on doing that to Archaic." Else they were sure to have real problems with Alaric's band of brutes in the future.

"Do you plan to fight?" he asked her suddenly, standing in place. As much as he wanted to watch and see whether Archaic suffered the same fate as that boy, he also felt like he saw enough to worm his way out of here and have enough of a story to convince anyone asking that he was there the whole time. "If not, let's get out of here. I've seen enough blood for a month just being here ten minutes."

code (c) cala

Laveau knew her adopted sister well enough to also know she was probably here, hiding somewhere, but she didn't bring that up, she didn't need to, instead she chuckled at his wincing, "Calm down princess." She goaded him, he earned more giggles from her as he pleaded she save him the Gorey details, and though she would have found it hilarious to make him squirm, she kept quiet.

He stood, and asked if she was planning on fighting, the lioness cocked her head, had she? No, not really, if it had happened, then she would have, but she would take this opportunity to stand and stretch, looking at her husband, "Let's get out of here .lead the way, dear." She gestures in front if her, waiting for him to take the lead.

/Exit w Polt

image by moogle/code by saph

How about ein queen, Sympathisanten-Abschaum? Delight lit the fire in mismatched eyes even brighter when it was her own mother tongue that answered her challenge. "Geh zur Hölle, du Rike-Hündin," she would snarl as her enemy launched her smaller frame at Morrigan. A shame all the Rike women were such violent beauties. They were wasted on their cruel handlers.

Morrigan would make no attempt to move out of her opponent's way, instead planting herself to take the blow and attempt to jut out her less battered left shoulder against whatever part of the other woman's body hit hers first, feeling almost numb to any more bruising at this point, but knowing that even her opponent's lesser weight had left its mark on impact.

Morrigan would duck her head down as she did so, feeling her enemy's jaws tear into the flesh on the right side of her neck muscle rather than her throat. Morrigan's own aim was for the Rike woman's chest muscles, attempting to sink her own fangs deep into the flesh there. It didn't matter if she won again. The warrior Queen just wanted her own pound of Rike flesh.

@Morrigan vs. @Valaine
For Minor Maim (tbd)
Round I / IV
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 13 + 16 + 8 + 4 + 10 + 5

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 13 + 5

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 1 + 10 + 7 + 6 + 18 + 9

coding & image by flea

He gave her an unamused look at she goaded him, once more. He wasn't against slapping her, and it'd be the illest fate to slap her off of this fucking rock right now and into the fights below... but he was more intent on leaving. He'd deal with her insubordination at a later time.

As he passed in front of her, he flicked his tail - aiming to hopefully hit her in the face with it as he began leading the way. "This way, wife," he spat, leading her away from the war below. Instead of climbing down into the pit to leave, he led her through the back way where they'd have to climb down the shallow rocks connected to Freyr's Peak to finally reach the flatlands below, but no one would see them leave... which avoided getting asked the tough questions. /exit

code (c) cala

@Ronin VS. @Astarte FOR dominance
— RESULTS —

Ronin Hits: 4+5+4+4 luck = 17
Ronin Dodges: 3+3+2 = 8

Astarte Hits: 3+3+4+4 luck = 14
Astarte Dodges: 3+1+2 = 6

Ronin Successful Hits: 11
Astarte Successful Hits: 7

RONIN HAS WON THE CHALLENGE FOR dominance!

In official wars and raids, fight result timers and posting restrictions are negated. Posting may continue, but the results of this fight cannot be acknowledged ICly until either both challengers have responded, or if 3 days have gone by. Whichever comes first!

Red flesh met tooth and talon and satisfaction joined the rush of adrenaline and pain and worry that dominated the cats entire being. Tanaz was reduced to instinct and reflexes in these critical moments, thoughts of how her son was faring flitting in the backdrop of the chaos, but spurning her onward nonetheless. Even Adeodatus's fight did not compare to the maternal instinct that inspired her, that flushed her veins with urgency. She felt a momentary relief from the fanged grip that bound her to the other woman, the release of pressure allowing more of her crimson to flow and spill from the surface of her wound. And just as quickly it seemed, the grip had returned, although this time in a different place; Tanaz had tilted her skull at just the wrong time to allow her snout to be secured in the grip of the other womans mouth. The proximity to bone would make the bite even more than her other injuries- or so it seemed- and the lioness would snarl, her tail lashing like a whip behind her. Toes would flex in reaction, as Tanaz would do the only thing she could - snap her lower jaw upwards in an effort to return a similar, mirrored grip.

@Aryana vs. Tanaz
Minor maim
3 of 4
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 1 + 8 + 11 + 19 + 10 + 7

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 4 + 6 + 3 + 11

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 5 + 4 + 17 + 2 + 3

code by dee, art by spu

One could very easily assume that Talisa was terrified. Not of losing the Summit, no, but of losing @Morrigan in more than one way. Her valiant wife had always been a great lover of battle and war and despite her near lack of experience in the matter, she enjoyed seeing her wife happy and in her element. They had known since the moment they had received the Summit that someone would eventually come for it. The lion that had was a bit later than they had anticipated but it had arrived nonetheless. So waiting on someone for so long, it was a relief that it had finally happened and she could somewhat breathe again. Not fully, but more than she could before. Eyes lit up like wildfire as @Penrose was attacked and Talisa's hair raised instinctively with anger as she, too, was prepared to strike them before realizing that it was a child. A child, she suspected, that was a bit younger than Pen and thus not as large a threat as a full blown adult would be. Still, it left her uneasy -- to attack her and Morrigan was one thing but to attack her children was a difficult thing to swallow. Thankfully, the Greyflood moved away from her opponent a victor but it was not until her wife turned to her that she noted all the blood. Raging from her ear to her mouth, at first it startled her to see Morrigan mangled in such a way but after giving it a few minutes, she firmly and internally shifted to accept it. If anything, it made her look stronger, prouder and scarier. Scars were important but these were far more. These were a good show that she had fought as hard as she could to protect what was hers. Without waiting a single beat, the victor marched to her and spoke in deep german tones that she recognized instantly. Eyes closing briefly as they touched faces, blood of her wife melding into her soft cheek fur as she relished in the presence of Morrigan for just a few seconds. Appreciating her victory and prowess because Talisa already knew that the warrior was not finished. So Talisa's breath hitched in her throat as her wife walked away, feeling the urge to follow but knowing that it was not her place. Thankfully she was able to withhold herself as @Eyvindr came to sit beside her. Despite his wordless approach, she swore she could feel every part of him present for her and Morrigan. That he was there to help in whatever way he could and she was more than thankful that he was here beside her. Feeling safe for the briefest of moments in that his size and strength would aide her in their silence. Talisa leaned ever so slightly towards him, offering her thanks as well as her heart.

table by cush

midnight mass
a crimson pool so warm and deep
lulls me to an endless sleep

Too much happens in the span of a fleeting moment.

He grins as his sister turns to him with a ravishing hunger, the anticipation of blood on their parched lips. But before he can act, before he can turn to the malevolent chaos at hand, to search their numbers for able prey, @Astarte's body is shoved into him by another male. He gripped the hard ground, skidding slight in the dampened firma, before coming to his feet and shoving himself from the way of warring bodies.

A part of him shirks forward to join the fray, but Astarte is a Devorre, and she had the ability to handle her own battles as any other.

Gauthier moved instead aside, letting she and the scarred stranger quarrel, though the weight of his icy gaze fell heavily upon Ronin. It is surprise that breaks over him when @Amara speaks from beside him, snapping his skull to acknowledge her entry, bracing instinctively for being caught off guard. Little fucker. His brows furrowed, following her eyes to the tangle of fighters before them, but it isn't clear of who she speaks - there is a gaggle of cubs in their own challenges, a menagerie of small fuckers otherwise.

He would ask who, but insanity has befallen the entire occasion.

The screaming lioness is back with her furious chants of nonsensical wildness - Krom? Gromm? Whatever it had been. New exclamations this time. Those of Ecrosia find their every whim satisfied in whatever they get their claws in. And there was a peculiar lion off to the side with an odd... glow. A god, someone proclaimed. A laugh stifled in his throat. They could keep their gods.

It isn't long into the pandemonium that the victor comes free from the binds of his cousin. Gauthier meets her gaze, shameless, though not without its respect. She did, after all, retain her crown and bloody up his bull-ish cousin. But all is fair in the fiery throes of war, and so it chinks his metal none, stead as she calls for another challenger. Wordless, he watched as Adeodatus slipped off with the expression of concern, searching every face in the belly of the Pit.

Hell of a party commented a roughed and bloody @Helah, arriving from the gallows with the poise of a casual fare. The blood draped across her neck, dampening and darkening the soft, fine furs of her chest. He chuckled and hummed in agreement, Hell indeed.

The longer he went without a contender, the more his wariness grew - the more the heat rose and fell in the stir of his flexed muscles at every nearing body that succumbed to another slaughter. Restless, riled by the scent of blood, his tongue curled against the knit of his teeth and he stepped forward into the risen dust and spray of sweet, iron-fresh sanguine. How about ein queen? Familiar, ringing, his eyes flashed wild to catch the image of Valaine's seething grin, to absorb the tangle of foreign words with their brutal cognates.

Another King might have abhorred the political dismay his subject would cause in challenging such a queen on the made bed of her chaos.

Gauthier smiles wide, deep, and shining.

This is the delightful legacy of the new Caladan. Unashamed, unbridled, unchecked. Bea adânc! he cheered to @Valaine, the roar of his thunderous voice cracked over the commotion of war, unconcerned of what ears it falls upon.

Romanian: Drink deep!

_{BG — ART — CODE}