Electricity crawled down his spine like a sleek viper, blood coursing through his body faster and faster with every passing moment that Amara battled the Andal woman. @Louve's words brought an amused sneer upon his otherwise punchable face. His wife had long grown apart from the bloodthirsty girl he'd had to temper. "Let them show their true colors, my love," "Le rouge leur irait bien," "Red would suit them well," She'd become the perfect leader, far more level-headed than he ever was. Louve now knew the strength in patience. If they played their cards right, they would have the world at their feet in no time.
The approach of a Wolfbron female caught the charmer's attention, his blood-red gaze shifting onto @Adelita as she fretted over his chartreux dove. There was hatered in her tone when she spoke odd words toward the girl that had charged toward Faustine.
@Léonie was quite vocal with her insults toward his precious little princess. He was certain that such vigorous hatered was carefully groomed by the constant superiority of his kin. The Dieudonne warmonger would've felt pride if the curses were not so grotesque and spoken to his beautiful daughters. No wonder the girl was mad!
The Andal female was a loud one, trying to justify her actions by headlocking Amara in a "you would do the same" kind of argument. Apollinaire would certainly pick a... juicier prey than a child, if the roles were reversed, but he would pick one regardless. Unless the Matriarch chains him by order, he would be at their throats until their blood runs dry.
But did that prove Léonie's point? Even if she tried to climb to their level she, and the rest of her allies, would never reach them. They were Dieudonne - they did not live by this valley's moral compass. They lived by their own. They were the predators and everybody else - the prey. Predators have the holy right to pillage, conquer and consume. Cattle have the holy right to be conquered and consumed.
@Tripfire's voice brought Apollinaire away from his obsessive thoughts, pulling him back into reality. "Il paraît que nous allons bien boire aujourd'hui, mon ami." "It seems we will drink well today, my friend." He hoped that the menu had more to offer than scrawny girls on a suicide mission.
@Alexander ♔'s arrival was expected, and by now Apollinaire was aware that this man was the Patriarch of the Savante. The family he'd torn into time and time again, and the family that had struck a deal with his own now. Surely a tricky political situation for many, but for a man born in a Matriarchal, murderous society, and having lived and thrived among them for years, Apollinaire adapted quickly. Way too quickly. "Mon ami!" "My friend!" He called out cheerfully as the lion nodded a greeting. He paused himself, as Alexander seemed uneasy, preparing for what followed to be a short speech so everybody else knows of their little ceasefire agreement. Ah, yes. The Oasis was their ally. A truly uncomfortable situation for the Savante. A quite entertaining show for Apollinaire. The slender Dieudonne watched Louve's reaction in return.
@Constantine, an unfamiliar relative to Alexander sat nearby. Apollinaire nodded to the man with a very friendly smirk. "Apollinaire Dieudonne, a pleasure." The vague curiousity of this one's taste emerged in the madman's mind.
And as a few more began to flock in to them, it was about time to greet @Dragos who couldn't take his gaze off Apollinaire. "It's good zho see you zhoo." The Savante man's expression showed nothing but dislike of his leader's decision. Apollinaire absolutely slurped up every moment of it.
"A challenge is enough reason for an attack on us," "You seem uptight, mon ami," It seemed Dragos wished to stretch his muscles. Apollinaire would enjoy that very much, but watching the Savante tear from the inside proved to be very entertaining as well.
Then amidst the tension an insignificant little whelp sauntered near them and then in a less than flattering display... showered the ground in her own liquids before launching herself at Louve. Apollinaire suddenly GASPED loudly and over-dramatically, placing a paw upon his long-haired chest. "What a zherribly mannered child." Disgust was evident upon his features. He felt insulted the girl would even dare touch his Matriarch with her filthy paws. He pitied Louve for having to taste such low quality upon her tongue.
Amara disengages from her battle, rising victorious as anticipated. He hears speech, but something else catches his attention. Another Savante appears, and this one seems to be siding with Dragos. Apollinaire's red gaze settles on Anthonius, measuring his movements carefully. The lion approaches, an evident threat rumbling from him. Apollinaire's brow raises in another overly-exaggerated surprise. "Bonjour zho you zhoo," He takes the hint and moves away from Faustine, confident that @Pyracantha and @Amara would defend the girl. How quickly the Savante broke their agreements. Not that Apollinaire minded in any case. They were all dogs unworthy of the Dieudonne's time. He would sieze this opportunity to show them that going back on an agreement with his Matriarch was a worse idea than any other slight.
Too bad it was Anthonius. Out of all of them, this one had the foulest taste.
As the man charged forward, Apollinaire attempted to brace his back feet, splaying them evenly beneath him. His lips twisted in a mischevious sneer, taunting the man to approach.
He stood his ground, attempting to meet the man head-on. At the last moment of Anthonius' approach, Apollinaire attempted to sharply move his head downward, causing the lion's teeth to leave long, deep marks that reached down to bone across the Wolfbron man's forehead and tearing a chunk of hair from his head along the way. The pain was searing, hot blood pouring down. The damage was made only worse by the power behind the charge. His feet would've skidded back if he hadn't braced his whole body.
From his current position, Apollinaire attempted to align his skull slightly to try and wrap his jaws tightly around Anthonius' jugular.
Minor Maim
Round 1 / 4
Hits:
Dodges:
Luck: