The brief interaction between Olive and the challenger was not lost on Orson either. His nose wrinkled in his vexation and the growl that was rumbling in his chest deepened, lips peeling back to reveal a hint of his large ivories. His irritation was shared with @Anniston, who recoiled away from her friend and pulled towards Orson's side, seeking his gaze. He tilted his head to meet her eyes and she would find a darkness in the deep-sea-blue pools that was seldom, if not never, seen there before.

"It’s shit." Orson replied, giving his verdict on the challenger’s mane, each syllable rolling with a barely repressed snarl. Orson wanted to charge in there, to fight at his King’s side and tear into the trespasser. He was aware of the others who gathered around, so boldly stepping over their border to gawk. It infuriated him, dredging up unpleasant feelings that he’d kept buried for so long.

It was then that a shrill little voice caught Orson’s attention and his head snapped around to see two of Anniston’s siblings entering the scene. "Gramercy! Enola! Get over here." He snapped, stepping forward and using one massive forelimb to pull the little she-cub in closer, only satisfied once both of them were close beneath the legs of he and Anni. "Stay close. There is danger all around us." He would say in a low voice, his gaze sweeping around them to be sure that no enemies were approaching.

ART BY KIM, CODE BY DEE

Birdie was a little disappointed that the mischievous plan to go investigate the strange rumbling and roaring was not her idea; but she is pulled from her morning slumber by the chit-chat and departure of her little siblings. She had hurried somewhat, but slowed upon realization of the crowd, unwilling to appear too eager in front of her brothers and sisters.

So, she arrives upon the scene with a jiggly milk-tummy and a casual cub-swagger. "We get a new Dad after this?" she asked @Anniston and @Orson, noting the way @Enola and @Gramercy had been huddled up under the large form of their kind-of-brother-in-law. And Violarum was fighting for something. She tilted her head as she looked between the battling men, coming to flop comfortably down in front of her siblings. "I look like him mostest anyway," referencing the plum invader.

_{art by yumpy —}

There is something of success, but not one that boasts of a clear follow-through. Had the male's balance shifted, Violarum could have turned the tides. All it would take was the vaguest slip-up from the plum challenger, a brief loss of footing, and Violarum could have ended it there and then. Alas, perhaps his unnecessarily large size aides his sturdiness - and it leaves Violarum clutching at straws.

There is little more he can do than continue his efforts, try to keep pushing - and as he feels the ravaged thrash of the males teeth against his skull, he attempts to part them by also shaking his head - attempting to mutilate the forelimb. However, it comes with it's price, and though there is no immediate pain, the King soon realises he is blind.

Blood had welled his vision, pooled from the wounds across his temples, clots forming in the corners of his eyes. It ran down to his nostrils and filled them too, sending bloodied bubbles from awkward splutters of air. Unfortunately, Violarum knows this is over.

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

Rolling 9d20: 19 + 5 + 11 + 15 + 7 + 4 + 18 + 8 + 2

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 16 + 14 + 17 + 1

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 9 + 5 + 13 + 14 + 8 + 19

* +1 Luck from Lead Scout (Aurochs) present

_{art by kairi —}

Thankfully, @Louve ♔ was able to point out to them that while Lorien wasn't a direct ally they were still the obvious pick as to who they wanted to win. So clearly, they were all getting the wrong impression. @Kian was nice enough to understand that the two twins certainly had a lot of fire and spunk in them. @Aideen happened to have the most fire burning in her body while Laerra was a bit more charismatic about it. You too, she muses though she wonders how her sister and caretaker thought of her making friends without being up in anyone's face. Oversized raisin, she snickers at the thought as her company was most certainly not wrong in the slightest. As much so when he looked to his pride mate person and asked, too. With Kian being the prince here, he likely had a lot of sway in what was going to happen here. Obviously he couldn't win for his father, but he could say who stays and who goes. Easily sic whatever warriors they had on them.

Gaze reluctantly moves from her bronze-pelted company to @Lucien as he addressed her specifically and pointed out a very solid statement. Then I can't imagine why either side here should have an issue with us being here. Said with neutrality and "calmliness" because she truly was making a solid point here. As Louve has mentioned, we are an ally of an ally. Does that not make us an important group to be here should things turn poorly? Wouldn't he want to have them present to help them? Gaze was quick to pass to the Dieudonne matriarch, intent to also gather that she was correct in her assumption.

+5 - learn a character’s full name and rank (kian/prince) (2/2)

^{ART BY CUSH, CODE BY CALA}

The plum man would pay no more attention to the pale figure that idled somewhat near his king. Vermier, for that matter, didn't seem to pay much attention to the Dog's presence either, nor anyone else around them. That was perfectly fine, however, as the mongrel was never keen at drawing attention to himself. He was content to simply watch the fight and perhaps let his gaze sweep the sidelines a time or two out of curiosity. The crowd was not as large as others he had seen, and much quieter. In fact, this challenge was among the most boring the dark beast had seen thus far. No further incursions manifested along the spectators, no other fights broke among petty squabbling. No, the only fight happening was the one that drew all their attention; for the crown.

Not knowing either lion, nor particularly caring who won, the hound found himself silently rooting for the plum feline if only because of his similar appearance to the beast. Birds of a feather, or something cliche like that. The fight wore on, though, seeming to near its end, leaving the mutt curious as to who would stand victorious.

tb & art | bg | lines

+5 Observe a fight

The sound of a challenge was slowly becoming a siren song to the young Hodari. Even if he had no political agenda, the masked boy was eager to see the happenings of Amaryllis unfold around him. So long he lived a sheltered life within Obsidian. Now was the time to explore beyond borders.

A challenge was a perfect opportunity to 'venture' into someone else's home, though the yearling was still careful to only skirt the edges of the land. There was still a pride here, and probably lions more than willing to defend their home even while their king fought for his crown. By the time Hero arrived, the fight was already well underway. Even nearing its end, it seemed, as the masked lion found a quiet little spot away from majority of the crowd to watch. There weren't really any familiar faces he was willing to interact with, after all, though he did take notice of both the Mire and Hollow kings presences. The Hodari knew nothing about the Plains, so he had no real interest in who won or lost. Either way, though, he was intent to see what happened here today.

'Till I find my hero's welcome

I have often dreamed of a far off place Where a hero's welcome would be waiting for me Where the crowds would cheer, when they see my face And a voice keeps saying this is where I'm meant to be I'll be there someday, I can go the distance I will find my way if I can be strong I know every mile would be worth my while When I go the distance, I'll be right where I belong

code by corvus

+5 - practice reading lips (2/2)

Though they remain aware of the other lions gathered, their focus is on the same group that captured her attention at the start. The bronze yearling smiles briefly, but soon focuses again on the challenge with what Brume interprets as confidence. They aren't able to catch his words, but the set of his jaw is enough to convey the mood. But then he looks to the diamond-faced lion and the certainty seems to melt into anxious concern. "I'm right, aren't I?" These words are clear to Brume, and again they feel sympathy bubble within.

The emotion isn't so dissimilar to her fear when her mother took Ninethorns' place as matriarch. It isn't something Brume would ever articulate, but the anxiety burrows into her like a thorn working that gradually works its way deeper into the flesh.

The big brown lion with the diamond-face does not show any of the worry that the younger male does. "King Vi...rum will teach him..." This confirms that the clay-pelted opponent is the defender. A King, whose name they couldn't read clearly. Vi-something. It isn't much, but it's enough to take back to their matriarch.

There is something final in this stage of the fight. Both males are clearly tiring, even if their ferocity does not diminish. Both of them are bloodied, and Brume can't imagine their struggle will continue much longer.

The druid settles lower to the ground to await the outcome of the battle. The grass all but swallows their pale, dust-covered form. Their eyes trail briefly to their matriarch - her mother. There is another bubble of concern. Swiftwillow is out in the open among a large group of lions, many of whom are agitated, protective, upset. She doesn't like it.

She doesn't like it at all.

coded by flea

Aestrios follows through, and as a result Violarum worsens his own wounds; feeling a sharp pang as his shoulder cops the force of collision. The males teeth tore deep beneath the skin, leaving several punctures in his wake. Still, at least this way the Lorien King was able to prevent his opponent getting a free shot - hoping there may have been consequences to his bite-force.

There is barely a moment to regather as Violarum steadies his weight across all fours, a flash beneath his chin hardly enough warning to avoid the strike. He catches the movement in his peripherals but it is too late, the plum lions foreclaws catch against his left cheekbone and peel away the surface layer of hair and skin, leaving blood to pool.

In nearly the same breath Violarum attempts to bite Aeistrios' right upper arm in front of the elbow, his skull twisting and chin tucking defensively. He would seek to clasp and crunch at sinew and muscle, or whatever he might find there, hoping to turn the male into a tripod - at least for long enough to reap the rewards.

{Violarum vs @Aeistrios for Lorien Plains
Round 3 of 5}
Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 13 + 14 + 4 + 7 + 19 + 2 + 15 + 3 + 17

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 7 + 9 + 16 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 1 + 4 + 5 + 7 + 12 + 13

* +1 Luck from Lead Scout (Aurochs) present

@Violarum VS. @Aeistrios FOR LORIEN PLAINS
— ROUND 3 RE-ROLL, BARBARIAN LEVEL 5 PERK —

As per the level 5 Barbarian trade perk, Violarum is re-rolling their dice for round 3 of this fight. This re-roll was performed by @Rabbit, and automatically replaces the previous rolls for this round.

Violarum Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 16 + 5 + 8 + 2 + 11 + 4 + 17 + 13 + 14

Violarum Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 1 + 8 + 15 + 5

Violarum Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 20 + 16 + 8 + 9 + 11 + 5

She shouldn't be so far away from the mountain. She shouldn't be here.

That knowledge weighs more and more heavily upon Maven's tiny frame with each step she takes, peering furtively over both shoulders even as she bunny-hops her way over the borders of her once-home. She ducks into the vast sea of greens and yellows, each towering blade of grass as daunting as they are familiar. The former princess had held such fond memories of this territory, the backdrop to fun games and Aunt Olive's misadventures and her parents' warm embrace.

The happiness those thoughts brought sours with each passing day that her mother remains missing.

Though Lorien really was a much nicer place when there wasn't a speck of snow to be seen. Yet it feels wrong to enjoy it when the plains were no longer her home. She doesn't feel welcome here anymore. Hardly feels safe when she knows that her 'uncle' must be lurking somewhere amidst the grasses and her mother is still nowhere to be found. Were those two facts connected? It was impossible to ignore the possibility.

But her presence here can't be helped! It was @Alastor's scent straying away from the Summit that had first piqued her interest - technically, he was the one that had wandered where he wasn't meant to be. Maven was just following to make sure that he was alright! So that she could walk him back home safely. Because if she wasn't with him...would their uncle make Alastor disappear too?

It's how she ends up on the edge of the gathered crowd of lions, despite her instinctive urge to stay away from all the noise and clamor, her expression growing more severe as she peered through the grass. Was that their uncle fighting in the center? Somehow, he's simultaneously more and less terrifying than the image her faded memories and youthful imagination had conjured for her. Why was he fighting? Why was everyone just watching? What if...what if the dark lion was killed, like her father said would've happened to him?

A mauve flash distracts her from her horrified wonderings, and she can't keep herself from yelping. Alastor! No, no, no, why was he going out there? What if their uncle saw? Come back! She's chasing after him before she can think it through, brimming with an anxiousness that even @Olive's familiar presence can't quite soothe, once Maven realizes that her brother had been running towards her. Olive! Please, don't let him see us. She whispers all too loudly, her fur prickling even as her pelt brushes against Alastor's side.

Maven didn't particularly like crowds, she was quickly learning._{BG — ART — CODE}

~ Hubert is attempting to remain hidden ~

At a glance, it's easy to tell that this particular challenge is less exciting than the last one Hubert had borne witness to. Maybe that's a good thing. His right ankle still twinges whenever he thinks about the humiliating defeat he'd suffered that day. A phantom pain, most likely. He's pretty much healed now.

His eldest brothers and Vater are already there by the time Hubert arrives, fashionably late and beyond the point of caring. He finds he doesn't particularly feel like joining them, though he spots them rather quickly. But then again, when does he ever feel like being in Luther's presence?

Instead, he opts to be a silent spectator, lowering himself for a quick roll in the loose dust to mask his scent before slinking his way into the cover of the tall grasses where it's quieter. He's on the wrong side of the border, technically, but what does it matter really? The reigning King of this place is one of Vater's allies, he knows. A 'misstep' here and there can be forgiven, surely. And if a new King is crowned here today? Well, Hubert doesn't intend to leave any trace of his existence behind anyway.

With that thought, the prince settles himself into a shaded nook created by a towering thicket of yellowing grass, peering out the action with interest. Both of the battling males seem to be on their last legs. Who would prevail once it all finally came to an end?

+10 Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread
+10 Sneak into another pride's territory without getting caught
+5 Practice speed or stealth

ART + CODE By Dee