He doesn't realize he's moving forward until a voice stops him dead. Startled, he angles a puzzled look at @Laerra. For an instant, he's sure he's seeing double: to all appearance, she looks the same as another lioness he'd sighted on— except for the eyes. The eyes are a reverse of the other's, a striking combination of violet and orange, sunset and sunrise, dark and light— like the battle unfolding before them. At least, from Kian's point of view. Conflicted, he regards her for an instant. He almost proceeds onward regardless, but the brief interlude is enough time to make him think better of it. He shakes his head, reluctantly. She's right. He isn't a bad fighter, but he isn't a born fighter either, not like mom and dad. Even if he could help, he'd probably just get in the way. Definitely just get in the way. Kian. He returns, heavy-voiced. I live here. Guess that makes me royalty, whatever that means. His brows pinch into furrows, belatedly seeming to realize something. Wait, shouldn't I be asking you that question? At this particular moment in time, this is technically still his home, isn't it?

_{BG — ART — CODE}

the child was a bright spark, no doubt. alaric regarded him in contemplative silence as he was greeted so enthusiastically, looking up to @Bruno as he explained. a ward, then?

interesting.

green eyes lowered back to @Freckle, a faint glimmer of amusement buried within. "violarum will win," he assured the child, even if he cannot possibly be certain. it was in the best interest of the mire for the current plains leader to remain as such, and so he chose to be optimistic for once.

@Luther joins them with his usual jabs towards his brother, and Alaric's attention returns to the fight, never having bothered to interfere in the quarrels of siblings.

_CODE

There is the fleeting hope of success; a taste of metallic and a resistance between his incisors. And yet, Violarum does not feel the grit of bones beneath his teeth, nor hear to crunch of pressured bones. Still, he hopes, as his jaws are left empty and snared, that his opponent may prove a little unsettled on that forelimb.

The huge male launches, and though there is nothing the King can do to prevent it, he would attempt to counter somewhat. Violarum sought to jut his shoulder, seeking to drive into the contact of Aeistrios - feeling the pressure of fangs graze across the meaty section of his right (?) shoulder - the clay male tried to thrust his shoulder into his rival's jaws, seeking to drive his chin deep towards his chest and draw the male's lower jaw unnaturally far from it's upper company.

The true extent of his shoulder wound was unclear in that moment as he awaited the challengers reaction.

Violarum vs @Aeistrios for Lorien Plains
Round 2 of 5
Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 20 + 6 + 12 + 2 + 3 + 11 + 19 + 16 + 17

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 20 + 4 + 10 + 19

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 14 + 13 + 20 + 19 + 10 + 2

* +1 Luck from Lead Scout (Aurochs) present

_{art by kairi —}

His forelimb throbs in a dull pain as the fight continues, adrenaline blocking out the true extent of damage from his mind as he fights on. As Aeistrios aimed for a bite on the shoulder - he hadn't expected it to be jutted at him. He took the bite, however the force of it caused a sharp pain to engulf his maw. From the corner of his eye he saw something fling- was that a tooth?! He wasn't sure which one it was but anger coursed him as blood dripped from his maw. Releasing his hold, and just in time for the movements of his opponent that would of surely broke his jaw, Aeistrios attempted to swing his paw upwards to try and slash down on Violarum's face once again, unsheathed claws looking to do damage for revenge with how the brute hurt his maw, and get some space put back between them hopefully.

Aeistrios vs @Violarum for Lorien Plains
3/5

Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 9 + 8 + 14 + 11 + 10 + 6 + 5 + 12 + 15

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 13 + 18 + 12 + 3

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 20 + 3 + 17 + 15

art by riot/coding by riot

your favorite cowboii

(1/2) +5 Patrol your borders
(1/2) +5 Exercise to gain endurance (excluding spars)
(1/2) +5 Observe a fight (aeistrios vs violarum)
More would arrive, lions from other prides or those that were rogues outnumberin' the Plains members that were present. It would cause for his skin to feel as if a million pinpricks were pokin' at him, and as the challenger threw a retort in his direction Lucien would only let out a rumblin' growl in reply. Let this stranger think he was incapable of a good fight - maybe it would come in handy in the future. The bulky form of Violarum catches his attention, watchin' as he came to stand before the lion, tellin' him that not only had he founded the land for Lorien but gave it its name. This was somethin' new the cowboy was learnin', tuckin' away that information into his memory.

The challenger would speak and before long the challenge would be underway, Lucien findin' himself glancin' over the ever growin' crowd while also payin' attention to the fight at hand. The arrival of @Kian would make him turn his skull in the direction of the Prince, golden eyes watchin' him with brows furrowed above. "Not quite," he'd reply, keepin' the tone of slight concern at bay. When the yearling takes a step toward would another interrupt him, a yearling from Wolfbron from the smell of her (@Laerra). Lucien would watch the interaction with tense muscles, makin' sure that Kian was not in any danger; he was unsure the relationship between the Bluffs and the Plains, and one could never be so sure that another wouldn't attack just for the hell of it.

"Think the real question here is who are you, little lady?" Lorien King would take a pawstep forward so that he were closer to Kian as the young male realized that he should have been the one askin' who this girl was, eyes now narrowin' upon the female. It was a bit out of place for a member of another pride to go 'round askin' other lions who they were while trespassing within a pride. As he waited to see if she would give a name Lucien's attention would flick back to the fight, an ear twistin' to listen.

table by ferus, art by cat, background image from unsplash

Aideen was only half paying attention to the conversation that @Laerra was having, and it wasn't until a question came across- asking who she was, that Aideen focused again on it. An older yearling, and a big male were asking. Well, that wouldn't do. Aideen pushed closer to her sister, a snarl on her lips. "She's my sister, now go on." She snapped, her teeth bared towards the big male- a growl in her throat. "You don't want others here- then don't get challenged. Be stronger." She snarls, her tail lashing as she stood beside her sister, glaring at the larger and definitely more imposing lions. She readied herself to fight them though- if they so much as looked at her sister wrong.

@Kian @Lucien

YOU YOUNG, YOUNG BLOOD

it takes him what feels like forever to muster the courage to dash over the borders.

he's been cautiously ranging away from the summit to look for his mother - sometimes he worries he's forgetting what she looks like. what she smells like. he holds fast to the last memory of he and his father and mother together, happy, here in these very plains. laughing under the snowy day. before his uncle ruined everything. tears sting the backs of his eyes and the curly boy blinks furiously, jaw grinding together as he fights to keep himself composed even as panic starts growing in his chest. he's going to kill dad. he's going to kill your sisters and your mother and then dad. and maybe you. lions kill lions, he tells himself.

lions kill lions.

it's the only thing violarum has ever taught him and he clutches it close as he carefully slides through the tall, waving grasses that he spent his early months in. they're familiar in so many ways, even without the snow pressing them down. the seas of green and gold don't quite swallow him - he's purple. how could they? - but they make it easier for his features to be hidden. or so he thinks. he tries to skulk like he's seen adults when hunting, stalking; like he does when he's playing hide and go stalk with his siblings.

the sea of faces are all strangers.
even his uncle, whom he barely knew on sight, is only known by the fact that he's fighting ( of course he is; a killer wouldn't be doing anything less, right? ). his chest clutches tight and his heart rapidly beats against the prison of his ribs as he pauses on the outskirts of the group.

what was he doing? did he really think he was going to be able to find her here, if they were keeping her? he doesn't even know where they could possibly hide a whole lion on the plains. frustration gnaws at him and just before he starts dashing around screaming mama! he sees her.

auntie @Olive.

hope surges in his chest and he lets out a breathless little laugh, pulling himself up out of his crouched position in the grass. eagerly, he bounds towards her. aunt olive! he cries, eyes wide and curly, growing mane windswept. auntie!

CODE BY SPU + ART BY NR

Phone post pls excuse

Laerra had every reason to enjoy the fight that was progressing. Happy to be a part of the audience and to watch the two brawlers, well, brawl. To see them throw paws at each other and grunt, blood occasionally flying from their claws and dripping from their mouths. It only made it even more exciting that she some information about this place and the current King to go off of. The boy, @Kian, son of that dude — royalty of this place — seems to suddenly realize that he, apparently, had the upper hand here. That she and those gathered around her were not where they should be.

Apparently, however, her interest in the boy proved to be someone else's business. Had she done something to warrant such aggressive verbiage? At least, aggressive in the sense that Laerra had only asked a simple question and @Lucien moving in closer to the boy that she had wanted to talk to. That was enough to make her feel like she was an intimidating presence (that was a nice thought) but it wasn't what she was going for.

Of course, leave it to @Aideen to butt into the conversation that she was happy to have even with the extra "adult" eyes on her. Whoa! Sis, slow your roll! she declared, attempting to bump a shoulder aggressively to her twins. We were just having a super chill conversation, weren’t we? Laerra gave a cheeky smile and raised a paw to her chest. I am Laerra and this lovely piece of work is my twin sister, Aideen. For once, Laerra wanted to see if she could make a friend out here. Maybe this guy was it and maybe he wasn’t but if aideen was going to shove her nose in it, she might not get the chance to find out!

+5 - observe a fight (aeistrios vs. violarum for lp) (2/2)
+10 - learn something about pride/group/family relations (kian is violarum's dad) (2/2)
+5 - learn a character’s full name and rank (kian/prince) (1/2)

^{ART BY CUSH, CODE BY CALA}

Peering owlishly up at @Alaric, Freckle would glance between he and @Bruno as his guardian offered up an introduction. Prompted to greet the large ashen man, Freckle grew serious "H'llo." he said, puffing out his chest to very little effect. He was still a small thing. No longer tiny, true, but he was still only a scrap of tawny fur compared to the two adult lions. Alaric humoured his question and Freckle nodded as if he knew who 'Violarum' was. He was not a fool, understanding it was very likely one of the two lions currently brawling it out amongst the onlookers, but which... he couldn't say. He hoped there wouldn't be a quiz. Mm, no, make that three large lions - Freckle twisted where he sat to peer at @Luther as he approached, who smelt of the mire. Despite the words being for Bruno, he piped up with -"What'sat mean?" his head cocking to the side. Freckle did not stay for an answer though as his focus is snatched away by a undeniably familiar voice. It had been nearly four months since he had last heard it, but it sprang the mire boy to his paws as if he had been stung by a wasp. "FANG!" he gasped, darting to peer around first Bruno's legs then Alaric's. It was only until that patchy and gold form of the bestie he'd lost in that horrid storm broke free of a pack of strangers did Freckle lock in, an excited holler leaving his chest, "Heeeeeeeeeeeey!" Bruno's instructions to stick close are forgotten as the spotted cub took flight toward @Thane, rushing through the grass toward him. Unless stopped, he met the other boy's charge at the mid-point and attempted to tackle him affectionately into the dirt in a big ol' bear hug.

+5 Observe a fight

The sound of a challenge was not unknown to the mutt, but it was the first for a crown he would witness. Pure curiosity drew the dog closer to what appeared to just be an expanse of plains nestled within the world of Amaryllis. Did anyone really care to fight for such a place? Who even decided to establish a territory in such a mundane terrain? To each their own, he supposed. The Obsidian lion was going to watch whatever took place either way.

As expected, the faces gathered were foreign. Much like the hunt he partook in with the great, hairy beast, these faces were of many different origins, all boasting their own set of markings, a multitude of colors and scents. It was enough to make the dark beast's head hurt. Somehow, amongst the muddled smells of lions, though, he managed to recognize what would soon become his own generalized cologne, that of the Hollow king. Ah, so @Vermier was keen to take in the sights as well? No surprise. A king should know the leaders of other prides, right? And when they change paws, should the current ruler fall. Politics was really of no concern to the dog. He was just here to watch the fight and perhaps learn a little bit about the world around him. As he made his way to his sovereign's side, the plum lion couldn't help noticing a pale figure seeming to linger nearby (@Moonsong). Was she another member of the Hollow? No, didn't smell like it, at least not from this distance. The hound would simply make a mental note of her proximity before taking a seat next to, and a good step behind, his king.

Dual-toned gaze fell on the combatants, then, finding the fight already well underway. A colossal beast, colored not unlike the dog, fought against a slightly smaller, plain man as the two collided in battle. Teeth gnashed against flesh, shoulders jutted up into jaws. It was thrilling, though not a lick of excitement showed upon the mongrel's features. The plum creature was very much an impassive lackey at his king's heels. He cared not who they 'rooted' for. A fight was a fight, and that was about it in the dog's mind.

tb & art | bg | lines