OOC: No IS please god please

Leaving behind the party, Haakon arrives alone. Scouting ahead to ensure the safety of the others is as important as leading them; and in truth, he is simply not patient enough to wait for the slower members of the clan. They will follow his trail and when they arrive he will have established a camp at the very least - perhaps, gods willing, something more.

The warrior’s paws tread lightly over the wet, packed sand, and his thick coat is slicked to his body from the endless rain. The dark, near black clouds above are relentless, but he is not deterred. Thor guides Haakon’s way, lighting up the sky every now and then, each bolt pointing towards the two stone giants in the distance, a gateway to a new world.

The closer he gets the more the storm above lessens, until it is just a light, steady rain. By the time Haakon steps from the sandbar the clouds have turned from black to pale grey, the rain is little more than a drizzle, and the sun breaks out over the land before him. A stunning world of lush greens and browns, fertile life.

His.

coded by flea + image by rabbit

He was not the first to covet that place. No, lions had been congregating to Amaryllis with lofty goals long before Bruno was born, and he was sure their kind would continue in their greed long after he was dead. The new king was traversing the passage rain or shine, only bothering to drop in after targets he deemed worthy of staking his reputation upon, and the scent of an adult lion faintly lingering over the rainfall proved to have such potential.

"Do you know this land?" Bruno called out to announce himself, the dark tendrils of his coat serving to help camouflage him into the shadows of the storm.

"What do you seek?" Why waste his time, otherwise?

---

|| august y10 | three years | EM high sovereign | at maua's passage | @Haakon ||

faustine never allowed her size (average) or her age (still young) to be her weaknesses. she knew where she lacked and what she ought to do to be among the masses of normal lions. while her thoughts still strayed to the pleasures of gluttony, faustine had learned to be quiet and pretend that little particularity never existed. inviting lions in the passage was like training for her. amassing soldiers and hunters was a job. thus, faustine looked to the adults, especially those with the signs of battles and wars upon them. she thought she found one here, except a man from the mire had already arrived. for now, faustine chose to stand a few feet away from the mire representative.

i am faustine of wolfbron, she said. she had no interest in questions at first. she also learned that there may be enemies on the island that sought to strike down her family. she couldn't take this risk for now. still, she wouldn't be surprised if some already knew just by her name and french accent. her dark gaze flitted towards @Bruno with unsavory thoughts. we desire strong and loyal lions to join us. are you one of them? finally, she smiled, snake-like and lacking in the warmth it should have. @Haakon

code: cala | art: drifty

I put my armor on, show you how strong I am

Yet again, she was not the first to arrive when something called her to the passage. Still, she did not let that deter her in any way. With a confident stride, the pale furred warrior queen approached the group. @Bruno was greeted with a polite bow her head as a sign of respect and the girl was regarded with a small nod. The scent of her pride was a quite familiar one, though she'd not properly met this one before. Nonetheless, she was greeted with a polite rumble.

But as intriguing as the other recruiters could be for vrious reasons, it was the other male that had her attention. Her posture straightened ever so slightly as she stepped closer, her head held high. "Welcome, stranger. It would seem you've drawn a few people already." A low chuckle escaped her as she looked at @Haakon. "If it is a home you seek, the Cove rewards strength and loyalty. And we appreciate a warrior's heart."

@Faustine

code by flea, art by irish

His admiration of the land before him is not unnoticed; soon enough, one male approaches. A dark beast, young, well-built. Haakon watches the stranger in silence, waiting for his path to stop before him. Eyes bright, the pale lion lifts his chin a little. "Not yet, but I will." He has never been here before, so it is all one massive mystery - and all the more exciting for it.

Before the next question is answered, Haakon glances over the stranger’s shoulder - and two more materialise from the shadows. A young creature, not yet blooded, but old enough to recruit apparently - and a brown lioness, fangs peeking from her lips. Both attempt to entice him into their prides, speaking of what they want to see in him. Haakon regards them without speaking until they are done, a twitch to the corner of one black lip.

"I seek glory," he says finally, answering the question @Bruno had posed to him moments before. His gaze and attention shifts between the two lionesses. " @Faustine of Wolfbron, I am Haakon Odinson. How do you know if a man is strong?" Most places outside of his birth land would not appreciate the title, or what it means, but the warrior isn’t bothered by the lack of knowledge. And finally - @Lagertha - gets a quick once-over before one meaty shoulder is shrugged. "A home is always useful." And since he has no intention of leaving any time soon, it would be needed sooner rather than later. With the others following, security is a priority.

Haakon’s icy gaze roams back to the other male. "Are you like these -" Haakon’s chin jerks, indicating to the two lionesses, "do you wish to win me as well?"

coded by flea + image by rabbit

Women came. Bruno glanced at them briefly, first taking in the tell-tale stench of a banshee in training. He studied the sickly green of her pelt, the cruelty shining in her blood-red gaze. She rather looked the part. The other was more meek in mannerism, bowing her head and revealing herself to belong to the cove – a pride he admittedly knew little about.

"Not yet, but I will."

Bruno fixed his attention upon the rogue once more. His pulse quickened slightly at the boldness of the statement, though he did suppose the rogue could just be trying to make known his intention of staying. His awareness of the present moment faded in and out as he contemplated the stranger's words, his quest for glory, and the questions he posed to the lionesses. Finally, glacial orbs fixed upon him in an audacious question.

"Are you like these - do you wish to win me as well?" Something about it felt obscene as it pricked at his spine.

"If you are worth winning," Bruno insisted perhaps too quickly. "You may find glory in Ecrosia Mire if you have what it takes. Strength and loyalty are matched with respect and even power." What else could a man want?

---

@Faustine @Lagertha @Haakon

i am the storm / and im coming for you

if you are strong, then you will survive faustine said, remembering vaguely the teachings of her family and that of the values instilled into her as a youth. and glory will come to those that have earned it; it is as simple as that. as it was always, from the old world to their new world. strong will always survive while the weak perished and their bodies turned fodder for their kin. this was the ways of the dieudonne, from culling weak newborns while their strong siblings sought glory in their adult years. of course, such practices were now archaic and no longer practiced. a weak start didn't mean they would stay weak. just as a strong and healthy child may become weak in the years to come. how pathetic, faustine thought, to be one full of promise only to be forgotten as time passed. and if she may not have immortality and godhood then she would have the next best thing.

i know some may not wish to live beneath the reign of women, she paused, staring at the older mire lion, knowing what his pride stood for. those who do tend to be far stronger and resilient than those who didn't. a cowardly male would seek to take refuge with other men of his caliber. whilst a man that desired to be strong would join any who could give him that. isn't that right, mire boy? faustine added, a low chuckle slipping out of her throat. she wished not to earn the ire of a fellow ranked lion, but she couldn't help it. @Haakon @Bruno @Lagertha

CODE BY DAANYEN + ART BY HUSH

I put my armor on, show you how strong I am

Meek certainly was one way to interpret polite kindness. Though there was more to the Warrior Queen than that, even if it didn't show. She'd simply found that a certain level of calm focus and politeness went a long way when it came to navigating the political landscapes. Politeness and ferocity in equal amounts could serve one quite well, with the knowledge of when to apply which.

The words of the Mire's new King elicited a snort from the pale woman, her tail idly flicking behind her. Her ears twitched ever so slightly, lips tugging upwards in a smirk that revealed more of her elongated fangs. Yet she didn't comment on whatever might have brought about her reaction in the first place. Though she did eventually speak again. "Faustine is right. The strong survive."

Her own land had not been too different from what the girl knew. The strong survived and the weak were broken. And the strong took what they wanted. It was the way of the world, how it was meant to be.

A growling chuckle slipped past her lips as she glanced towards the younger Wolfbron girl. "Some men have such fragile egos that they can't handle living under a woman's rule, don't they?" Though her smile was innocent, her tone light, there was a glimmer in her eyes. She'd seen many men being broken under a stronger rule, unable to handle the rule of a female or even the idea that a female could do such a thing.

Emerald gaze returned to the Rogue after lingering on the others, the smile still present. "But I suppose I should at least give you my name. Lagertha Loðbrók." Though she'd introduced herself to others quite often, it had never been with her entire name. A foreign feeling to speak it again, but it was still a part of her. "Glory....and a home. Something worth fighting for. An ambition that will be respected among the right people."

@Haakon @Bruno @Faustine

code by flea, art by irish

If he is worth winning.

Haakon’s inky lips stretch, parting ever-so-slightly as his grin appears. The young, dark man speaks of what Haakon assumes is his pride - Ecrosia Mire. Strength and loyalty. A good foundation to build any kingdom upon. But is it enough to tempt the Odinson?

@Faustine’s answer is somewhat childish but not stupid. The other lioness echoes her sentiment. Haakon regards them quietly, an ear flicking in interest when there’s rather pointed jabs made toward the dark lion. Clearly there’s some history there, and Haakon has to wonder at it. What strings can he find, already? What could happen if he tugged them?

And here, he notes, he knows two names but not the third - "What should I call you? Not mire boy, I assume?"

@Lagertha Loðbrók catches his attention - both her names are familiar to him in an unexpected way. "Är du en av oss, Lagertha?" The pale beast asks, looking for even a flicker of recognition in her expression. Are you one of us, Lagertha?

Regardless of the answer - though he hoped to find another of his kind here already - Haakon knows to gain shelter, and the stability he needs for the others, it is time to sell himself. And it is not necessarily the best choice to join Lagertha, if she proves to be who he thinks.

"I’m a scout for my clan, who’ll be here in the coming months. When they arrive, they will join me. I do not care the gender of the lion I pledge to, only that they are capable of keeping the pride they run - strength, and strength alone, is what does that." Women could be as powerful as a man - even if, in Haakon’s experience, it was rare to happen.

@Bruno

coded by flea + image by rabbit

"Isn't that right, mire boy?"

He seemed to awaken somewhat, having tuned out the words of the women in favor of contemplating the prize at his paws – worth winning, or not. He slid his acid gaze over to the form of a scrawny lioness, decent in size though clearly pubescent. While he knew little of her, he was no fool. The mossy coat of their banshee-number-two was not exactly common.

"Do I know you?" Bruno drawled in mock boredom. She seemed to think they were acquainted somehow, but he was not about to descend to the level of swine and bask in a mud fight – those are just stereotypes about the swamp pride's pass-times, after all. He only quirked a brow as the other lioness seemed to liven up at the opportunity, a couple of clucking hens going on about something irrelevant to the matter before them. Typical. Bruno sought to meet the lion's eye once more.

"What should I call you? Not mire boy, I assume?"

"I am King Bruno Stärke," he introduced himself in rare near-fullness, a glint of pride shining in his eyes as the sentiment of it warmed his belly. The rogue's tongue twisted in some foreign language then, seemingly directed toward the blonde one – a prior connection, perhaps? And, when finally he denied any particular preference for a leader beyond strength, Bruno felt rather like his success was a given.

"I am the second generation of my family to hold our throne. I know I am young, but my training has been stringent and I am battle-tested." He had been forged from Rike blood and the mud itself for this very task.

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@Faustine @Lagertha @Haakon