Solanum had not wanted to come but the pull to see what was going on was more interesting, she sidled up next to the Hodari boy and took a seat next to him, she was a smaller framed girl so she could fit In next to Hero without to much space being taken up. The confirmation that he'd found his family was good news, she smiled softly at him, she tensed at the fights that broke out around them, her ears pinning back, a small lump forming in her throat.

The challenge began to become chaotic and the girls wide yellow eyes widened, her friend was locked in battle, her eyes catching the form of @Eisa, and she tensed, she wanted to call out but no voice came. "This didn't happen at the last challenge. She whispered, her heart was beating in her ears, the girl leaned against the boy, her body was ready to launch out of the way or at an attacker should one come.

( "Solanum is open for a fight and/or claimkng )

The dog watched as the fight ensued, taking note of his king point out another fight as a youngster went after a striped woman. So he appreciated female fighters? That was different. Considering no one was stopping the young female from challenging for this pride in the first place was already something to be confused about. The mongrel was from a very patriarchal society, after all.

Sat upon his master's heels, the plum lion kept his head on a swivel. More and more lions flocked into the Cove, many finding fights of their own. It was only assumed that the Obsidian males would fight their own battles among the fray, but before the war-painted lion could asked his king of their targets, @Vermier was pulled into a fight of his own. The stranger smelled of these lands, so maybe the Hollow was supporting the challenger girl? Without enough information to know who was friend or foe, the dog was not ready to pick his own target, but boy if his claws and teeth weren't itching for a fight. His body lifted, standing firmly on all fours with his defenses up. It was clearly written across the man's face that he was ready for anything, and ready to defend his own king.

-- Dog is actively looking for a fight. feel free to attack --

table | bg | base

5years, no bonus.


Satisfaction. Amusement. thrill. He felt it all as the battle continued between he and his wife ex. Pushing aside any negative or guilty feelings he may or may not have, they had no room in his mind while he was enjoying a good fight. The warmonger did not bother to hide how much he enjoyed every cut and gash he made on his opponent…and every wound Bhaskar made on him. His heart would race with both adrenaline, excitement and a small level of fear given the proximity to his eye. It was healthy to feel fear when ones eye sight was on the line- as his currently seemed to be. Ronin didn’t necessarily understand the whole taking an eye or a tongue thing…not in the sense of targeting it deliberately. If it happened, so be it.

As Bhaskar shifted his angle again, this time the beast would draw closer to his intended target. So much closer that canines would press into the top of his eyelid. Blood would burn his eye, causing him to hiss in pain. Perhaps the attack would have done more damage, but in that moment, he would also press into his forearm that braced against the mans chest, causing him to suddenly drop down a bit, not quite caving to the pressure, but giving just enough. His other paw would embed in the mans cheek and Ronin would snarl once more, attempting to shove forward from his hind legs to throw the adversary off balance as his paw released the cheek and once more attempted to claw into the mans eye. He was growing tired, it was time to end this.



Ronin vs. @Bhaskar
Major Maim (eye removal?)
Round 4 / 4
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 9 + 14 + 3 + 8 + 17 + 12 + 11 + 7

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 5 + 10 + 3 + 8 + 19

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 15 + 9 + 8 + 17 + 7

Despite @Parvati dodging him a moment too late, his young claws still found some flesh to hook into. His first official draw of blood in a real fight not against a little girl. Unfortunately for him, he lost his footing in the sand and slipped into the sand hard before he could catch himself. Uf. He grunted. Sadly, his chosen target was able to get away, preventing him from saying something cocky in response to her telling him to leave her alone. @Astarte had discovered he and Ulrich both, and she marched over to yell at both of them. He huffed, getting up off the sand to go watch his brother take on the red girl to see who would come out on top rather than sulking beside their mom.

code | image

@Myrkvi snarls in her face and her hackles raise, each individual hair along her spine flaring dramatically. her eyes smolder with rage, though her face remains that placid mask. like the sea, she seems calm above but is a riptide beneath. the curl of one dark lip reveals a ragged tooth. væri ég á lífi, myndirðu ekki þora að tala svona við mig. were i alive, you wouldn't dare speak to me like this. she warns, her ears angling forward and rising herself slightly to lean towards him. she doesn't care how large he is or whose son he is - she would have flayed him alive if she had the ability.

your legacy is in the wind, he says, and her pupils shrink to pinpoints of fury. in the wind, she thinks. how dare he? how dare any of them!

þú gerir grín að okkur. you make a mockery of us.

this is said flatly, with no rage or disappointment, no annoyance. only a flat sort of admittance. cirilla was right. he is not the jarl they need. he whirls away, then, to throw himself at a nearby rike. this, at least, he is doing correctly.

her nostrils flare in annoyance and she slides her gaze back to morrigan in time to see a curled lip from her daughter. @Cassandra, heavily pregnant, isn't looking directly at her - isn't even looking in her direction, but the curled lip has her narrowing her gaze. she can't tell if it's directed at her but she expects the half-assed attempt at being aggravated has to do with the words spoken to her husband. irritated that they spoke in icelandic? or picking up on the rage in her husband's voice?

she snorts, rolling her head and gaze away. she isn't to be concerned about, especially not right now.

when her eyes rove across the assembled rike she can't help but notice just how many there are. where the fuck were the sigrún?

disgust pulses in her and she murmurs some kind of farewell to @Morrigan as she starts to make her way through the crowd.

but the wind turns and a scent wafts her direction, aborting her steps with such speed that her form flickers.

@Hákon.

joy and fear and panic and devastation slam through her in such rapid succession that she feels the world shift deliriously under her.

she wants to run to him.
she wants to run from him.

she swallows thickly and tips her ears back, feeling for all-the-world like a babe fresh out of her mother's den.

a moment of indecision hangs and then she disappears, running from the challenge from the only thing that's ever truly scared her.

hákon.
love.

exit

table by ferus & lineart by eerien00dle

(1/2) +5 Observe a fight (cirilla vs gauthier)
(1/2) +5 Observe a fight (ottilie vs fernweh)
(1/2) +5 Observe a fight (bhaskar vs ronin)
up to minor maim, please notify me if you are going to attack so i have a heads up!

Many more show, several faces he recognizes and many more he does not. It wouldn't take long before fights break out before the pride challenge went underway, Arkyn's eyes flickering between one that involved his adopted sister before seeing another start between a red maned peach furred man and a splotchy dark furred man. He would watch in observational silence, taking the chaos growing all around him. The Viking could feel his body begin to tingle with the anticipation of a fight, his webbed toes flexing to allow for his claws to poke through the hard packed sand beneath him.

His attention would watch as the Cove King finally made his debut, speaking of trespassers before throwing himself at the young Sigrun who dared to challenge him. Arkyn would not be able to focus on the pride challenge for long, though, for a rather large disruption had caused for his ears to twist and attention to be turned in the direction it was coming from, and even though he were a good distance away from it that didn't stop him from being curious. A throng of lions seemed to be attempting to keep a singular lion down, but for what Arkyn was not sure about. As a brow rose and he pivoted his body so that he was watching the drama unfold head on, eyes would dart between the faces that were around the dogpile, plucking out a couple of very familiar faces. A low growl would vibrate within his chest as he stared down Amara, ears now twisting sideways to lay flat before they pinned themselves backward upon his skull.

His eyes then travel toward the one that they all seemed to be protecting, noticing the swell of her belly and letting out a scoff. It was humorous to the colossal, seeing a woman who he had seen in the past being so willing to throw herself into the midst of battle now pregnant and having to be protected. That should have shown every lion that even the self-proclaimed strong had their weaknesses. And despite every fibre in his being screaming to launch toward the Bluff women he would instead let out a series of low sounding grumbles, yellow eyes reluctantly pulling themselves away and back to the fight but still keeping more than aware of his surroundings, waiting.

SENTINEL

(1/2) +5 Sunbathe or take a nap
(1/2) +5 Gossip with another character
up to minor maim, please notify me if you are going to attack so i have a heads up!
A nod would be given to @ronin's reply, an ear flickering as the sounds of fights and spectating began to grow louder. His comment would only bring out a soft 'hm' in a part of her reply, red eyes looking at him to the ever growing crowd. "I didn't want to ruffle any more feathers so soon." It was obvious she was referring to the red lioness that was rather bristly toward her at his own challenge, and if it were on queue would Nephthys make her arrival. Artemisia would notice her demeanor, almost feeling the anger and bitterness radiating from the woman.

It would be here that a orange faced lion would pipe in, trying to correct the 'name' Artemisia had given the challenger and telling them what her actual name was. "Right..." The word would be muttered, not really giving it any more thought. So this Cirilla thought she could best the large and older King that had just arrived? This pride challenge would most definitely be interesting.

No more than a couple minutes past before the chaos would find its way way too close for the earthen woman's comfort. The same lion that had confronted Ronin at the Oasis challenge was now taking this opportunity to strike, and as the two collided she would leap out of the way, eyes glancing over at @Nephthys. With a soft sigh, Artemisia would come up on her side, keeping some distance from both the fight and the lioness. "I don't want you to dislike me," she would comment while crimson eyes stayed glued on the two men brawling. "Ronin and I are just friends, and I didn't tell you that the first time I saw you because I didn't want any problems." Might as well try to air it all out if she was going to make her way to Andal to join, right?

ART BY IRISH / CODING BY SENTINEL

(2/2) +5 Gather useful information on a enemy lion or pride (Sigrun)
(2/2) +5 Observe a fight (ottilie vs fernweh)
(1/2) +5 Observe a fight (cirilla vs gauthier)
up to minor maim, please notify me if you are going to attack so i have a heads up!
@Luther ♔'s retort provoked a small scoff of bemusement, @Alaric giving him a bit of a better explanation on what he had asked. Although it wasn't the woman's first name it was enough, and her last name was one that made his fur bristle slightly. Vulferam had heard enough about the Sigrun to know that they had been an enemy of his father and their pride for before he was even thought of. And although he had no interest in a dynasty-long feud, he knew that he had to be at least somewhat concerned and in the know about it if it meant Alaric paid him more attention. "Sigrun," he would repeat in a mutter, half to himself. He'd remember her appearance and make it a point to at least figure out what her name was.

As the Caladan King arrived and barked something out about there being trespassers, coal eyes would glance around him as Vulferam felt his muscles tense. There was more fights that had exploded, and as Gauthier went for his opponent the Prince would see a couple more Mire members getting into fights of their own - some of them mere cubs. A glance toward Alaric would show that his dad was irritated, and with a inhale of breath and a flick of his tail Vulferam would glance around him once more. Ottilie's own fight seemed to be coming to a close and he was hoping that she at least caused enough injury to make the other remember his sister if she didn't win. He had a feeling that more fights would erupt before the pride challenge was over, and there was a high probability that he himself would find him fighting.

Ugh.

ART & CODE BY LARS, MODIFIED BY GUNNER
*DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION!!*

Aut viam inveniam aut faciam ╴
I shall either find a way or make one
Cirilla SigrúnHer should easily barges into his already bruised chest, the injury there potentially blossoming further. Not that it mattered: superficial injury was not what Cirilla was gunning for here. He leaves lacerations down her flank as she had barged forward, and the sand beneath them continues to be stained red.

Her head shakes side to side, just as she had intended. Flesh, blood, muscle and perhaps pieces of bone come away in her jaws as the warmth seems to slide down her throat. The dislodged flesh does mean her head is no longer attached to his shoulder, so she is quick to part her jaws once the damage is done and release the remnants of her opponent.

Gauthier successfully rips away the flesh that housed her tricep. The injury there would be enough to scar her, giving the woman a permanent reminder of today's battle, no matter the outcome. Composing herself, Cirilla took a brief second to analysis what she could do next, looking at his face. Hm. Lunging forward and upwards, Cirilla would part her bloody jaws and attempt to find purchase on the left side of Gauthier's face, whilst raising her left paw and attempting once more to slash the right side of his flank. Her movements mean that whilst Gauthier does find purchase on the back of her neck, it is not where the cord to her spine lies: instead it is slightly off-centre, fangs sinking into the fatty bit between her spine and her shoulder.

Cirilla vs @Gauthier
for Caladan Cove
Round four of five

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 20 + 15 + 1 + 17 + 8 + 13 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 19 + 10 + 13 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 19 + 11 + 4 + 8 + 20

The world narrows down, black at the edges of his vision, until nothing exists but the enemy and the space between them. He is deaf to all; his father’s frantic order is ignored (or not heard at all, over the rushing blood in his ears), the cries and chants of the crowd, the tiger slipped from the scene, the red male attempting to plant himself between Dragos and his target. Nothing matters, nothing can stop him -

Something slams into him, sending him off course; he never gets his fangs into her - his - their throat. It doesn't matter who, what, he was after. They are the enemy. They are threats to his family. That the dark lioness he'd launched himself at shifts and distorts in his eyes does not matter. It could be a Wolfbron lion, a Black, some other nameless threat - it does not matter.

He has to destroy them.

Destroy them all.

He heaves a breath and it comes out in a growl, fangs bared and dripping spit, as the brute regains his footing and steadies himself. When he looks to find who had stopped him, it isn't Angelo that Dragos sees. It is just another enemy. Another threat. He lunges for the grey beast but something clamps around his scruff, as if he were a child. Few could stop him - even slow him - in such a manner, and it certainly takes a lion to rival his own size to force the beast to stumble. Still, he lurches forward, a rabid dog on a chain, stretching the noose until it chokes him.

Another solid weight in his side, taking his back legs out from under him. Dragos hits the ground, and the enemies around him use his weakness to their advantage. He thrashes and kicks and bucks, muscles working and straining to get up despite the bulk of the others on top of him. He struggles to find purchase, struggles against them, desperate to be free so he might finish what he started - what he must end -

Something gets in his face, and all he can see is an enemy close enough to destroy -

Blood fills his mouth. Sweet, sharp, and even in the grasp of bloodlust, he knows that taste.

@Csitri.

Dragos bulks backward, shoving with ungodly strength as claws dig into his back, and wide eyes snap into focus and find his sister before him. His fang marks in her neck. He has only a second before something slams into his head, hard, and he staggers back before collapsing.

@Alexander ♔ @Anthonius @Angelo @Teodora @Tripfire @Louve @Florentina @Valens @Lilliana @Valerian (I think... I got everyone?)