Scorpius pulls himself up onto a boulder, overlooking the oasis proper, and takes a moment to survey the kingdom. His. His, now. His forever. It would always belong to the Miroslav, regardless of who thought they’d take it from them. And now it is his throne, his to protect. His pride. His family.

I’ll make you proud, father.

He waits until sunset to call the pride. A loud call, demanding the presence of the pride - an urgency that says this is no light meeting to chit chat. Once the last of his roar fades over the dunes, the king jumps down to the sand, and sits.

@Alexander ♔ @Teodora @Anthonius @Valens @Ronin @Léonie @Valerian @Celestia @Camellia @Florentina @Csitri @Angelo @Septima @Walpurgis @Ambrose @Eskel @Zelda @Lilliana @Uma @Silviana @Lucanus @Halimede @Viggo @Oriana @Orion @Astraeus @Blue

artwork • coding • background

Healing and staying put. That's all he was allowed to do. Mud dried and flaked on his fur as the day went on. Camellia and Lilliana would return to clean it off and reapply at some point before bed, no doubt. It felt like things were mending well, although his jaw was quite the adjustment to get used to. They'd straightened it as best as possible, but he was certain there would always be at least a small amount of crookedness to it. It brings character! Csitri had said, trying to make him feel better.

Valens snorted at the thought as he padded to heed Scorpius' call. The dappled man was out of the loop when it came to pride gossip, but he did find it strange that their Heir was pulling the pride together for a meeting. There had been some whispering among his family, some thinking perhaps he'd taken the helm. Apparently the border's scent had changed.

He wouldn't know when they'd tossed him away and thrown the key.

Okay, maybe that was a tad dramatic. But with Cam watching him carefully and warning him not to undo her work, he felt it necessary to obey. Lest his jaw fall off or sag awkwardly for the rest of his life. That wouldn't do. He needed to be fit and healthy for his kin and the Oasis. To protect and provide for them.

Settling near the other piebald man, he'd give @Scorpius a polite nod but say nothing. It was still difficult to talk.

The warmonger would hear the roar he knew was coming, the roar that would be the precursor to everyone finding out he was no longer the King of the Oasis. It had not been a battle that had determined this outcome… not really, the Heir and the King had not fought or had a spat, but they had come to an agreement and the warmonger was true to his word. He felt the boy was ready and even if he wasn’t. Ronin was…well…not fit to lead in his condition. As the last of the call would fade he would rise within the den, glancing down at the bundles of fur and flesh. Sighing softly he would turn and head towards the call. He moved with a heavy limp, a wound on his shoulder that dragged down his right limb. It was an injury he would not speak about, not even with Nephthys or the new King. Coming to a stop short of the new King, weight shifting slightly so that his injured limb was relaxed and without weight on it.

“I assume I still have a home here, for now?”

His brow would raise- it was not something they had discussed previously, hadn’t even been a thought. He’d just assumed the Miroslav would show the previous King the same respect he’d shown him. He would remain standing, waiting for @Scorpius decision. If he was shunned, Ronin would not hesitate to take his family with him. If he was welcomed, he would plop down to hear the rest of the meeting. He wasn’t the only one to arrive early, to the side he noted @Valens settled in silence, no doubt on the orders of Camellia. He would fleeting turn to him and nod slightly with a hint of a smile before turning back to Scorpius.

The young girl had only just awoken, always one to want to rise with the moon, disappearing into the dark as the sun became a blinding sphere upon the horizon. She had only begun to groom out her sandy fur and choose a pretty flower to wear. Unfortunately her enthusiasm would be short lived. The feeling of safety and hope of being praised and adored like the royalty observed back home would be denied her. It wasn't @Ronin calling for a meeting, it was someone else now. She was reduced to a commoner, did that mean she was to be shunned and avoided again for reasons she could not seem to grasp?

With a confused frown, she would warily approach the small group of gathering lions, bringing with her the small shell she had been practicing playing music on. She would settle somewhere off to one side, nervously tapping a delicate paw on the instrument, more out of nervousness than any desire to play music in that moment. What was to happen now?

It's been so lonely without you here

Like a bird without a song

code by corvus

Ah, now that was a sound she could get used to …

The dark imp appeared on the crest of the dune, lured in from the surrounding desert by the sound of her brother summoning the Oasis pride. It had always been their vision — to have @Scorpius, Patriarch of the Miroslav, crowned as the King of the Andals like their father before him. The very idea had Léonie’s chest puffed with pride.

Her dark paws carried her down the sandy slope. Immediately, she found her brother seated there in the sand, with @Valens nearby. @Ronin was too, asking if he had a home there. Her spotted ears flicked curiously, hazel eyes leaping from the older male to Scorpius. Wait — what?

Once she looked Ronin over though, she understood. He looked rough shape, and seemed unfit to defend to pride — for now. He’d heal in time but for now, he was clearly too hurt.

“Absolutely not. Banished!” Léonie snorted as she moved beside him, pausing to smile and tease. Wounded or not, he was going to have to deal with her poking. Maybe not literally — he looked miserable enough — but she would never pass up the chance to annoy a friend. “Seriously? What a dumb question. I think the heat’s finally gotten to you,” she sighed dramatically before snickering, knowing Scorpius would not banish Ronin. Ronin was somewhat of an ally now — at least, Léonie viewed him as one. Surely her brother did too.

artwork • coding

Her stomach was in knots. Anxiety gnawed at her. Why wouldn't Ronin tell her about the injury? She worried it was something that Sláine had done. She worried and worried, nearly tearing herself apart with conspiracy theories. Had he met up with Sláine and they'd fought again? Was there a cliff again? Of course it stung that he wouldn't tell her about it. Nephthys had felt they were finally reaching the point of absolute transparency, but now she feared it was not the case. Still, she was a member of the pride and she would attend the meeting as requested by the new king. Frankly, Nephthys didn't mind Ronin having some extra time to spend with her and the cubs; it helped her take some of the weight off her own shoulders and the cubs would have their father around, attention undivided. She thought it was a good thing, but it was clear Ronin disagreed. The lioness tucked the cubs in safely before she turned and noticed Ronin had gotten a head start. With a soft frown and almost submissively, Nephthys trailed behind the man to give him space. She didn't know what to do, so she simply silently followed and settled beside him as he posed a question to the new king.

image by Riot + code by pine

Eskel was concerned.

That was one way to put it, the call of another, and not Ronin- the shift of the scent markers. He remained quiet, and aloof as he approached, coming to take a seat on the edge. He noted Ronin was there, and Leonie- but the other faces, were not lions he had names too. A cub, a female, and a male- that had orchestrated a training- Valens. (I think i remember he introduced himself there, correct me if im wrong)

Eskel's eyes came to rest on the male at the head of the group, and he would remain aloof, watchful- considering. He had more to lose now, more that mattered to him... and so Eskel had some decisions to make, but for now... he had to wait and see what would occur here. Maybe this male would be someone who's ethics Eskel agreed with- he hoped so. He was kind of fond of the Oasis, but with his heart's loyalties to the North now... who knew.

ART COPYRIGHT IRISH

Things had changed, Valerian was not so ignorant to not notice. The scent markers had changed too - although they’d already had Scorpius’s presence clear as heir, now it was more defined. So when the call came over the sands, the Savante man strode toward the summon.

The man came alongside his uncle, offering @Valens a nod as he seated himself on the warm sand beside the other Savante man. He was quiet, watching Scorpius with a curious eye. Valerian did not often have much patience for politics, but he supposed he needed to at least show his face and figure out what had happened.

art © drifty

What a blissfully delightful surprise this was. Halimede had another King she could harass and annoy.

Although, the notion of it being Seneca's son held her back little; it were far easier to toy and tease a man closer to her age than it was someone younger, someone with far more life left to live. Despite it all, however, there was a relative ease that came with Scorpius' ascension; while she had not minded Ronin's leadership at all, the Miroslav's had seemed rather small in comparison to the mass amount of piebald-and-speckled lions of another family who had come to take residence within the Oasis. In the months since Halimede had joined their ranks, she'd hardly been seen; when she was not promenading the wilds of Amaryllis in search of Leander or her children, she was found lounging quite lazily within the Oasis. Feeding off their well-stored caches, lazing in the fleeting summer sun.

With Scorpius as King, now, Halimede assumed such behavior would have to change. That was, unless, she got a free pass.

Halimede swiftly found place alongside @Léonie, the gentle teasing from her striped counterpart eliciting a girlish guffaw from the tabby sandcat. He could be the Queen, she suggested, a sarcastic lilt resting on the edge of her tone. Halimede cared little for ranks and politics; the desire for power had always been lost on her. Thus, her roguish nature often lead to more crass comments, even after all these years spent in this country. Rather, she imagined the dainty and girlish Queens of Amaryllis standing alongside the brutish and regal Ronin, whose mane were twice as luscious as any of them; certainly, he would win any beauty pageant they could ever throw.

Septima couldn't have hidden her pride if she tried, though for the sake of the last reigning couple she did manage to suppress her giddiness. There was something incredible about witnessing her brother ascend to the throne where their father had once sat: it was like things had come full circle, finally, and she was hopeful for the future. They could rebuild the Miroslav empire and make the Dieudonne truly question their choices in declaring them an enemy. Kick ass and take names, as it were. Septima attempted to corral her cubs to the meeting, but they were wayward things with minds of their own. She had done her best and now all that was left was to wait and see which of them showed up. The woman arrived with a smile, silently settling with a shudder of excitement.

ART BY RIOT, CODE BY DEE