miss the moonlight,

the day threatened to be grey.

the swamp was always rather ugly, but in the stark light of dawn it seemed espesically so. muck and mud covers her paws as she traverses the brackish water, doing her best to stay where the ground is mostly solid. she wouldn't normally come to a placel ike this ( or, at least, she wouldn't want to linger ) but there's something on the wind. a scent of something, and her stomach gurgles with hunger -- and want. she's seen that the lions of this island are willingt o come and assist with a hunt, and so she chuffs softly for them today. surely some of them were up this early? she tosses her head until her messy curls are out of her face as she settles in to wait, starlight eyes sharp and focused.

she would not leave here empty-handed.

6 years, no bonuses
Hunt Luck Roll:

Rolling 5d20: 19 + 2 + 17 + 11 + 15

+40 Successfully lead a large hunt (5+ lions)
+20 Take down hard or extra hard prey / +10 Take down easy or medium prey (dice-roll)
+10 Participate in a hunt using the rolled hunt system
+40 Successfully lead 3 hunts in 1 OOC month - 1/3

code by flea, art by rabbit ♥

the first lull of autumn winds brought hunger to the young lioness. her stomach was empty of much contents despite having eaten in the past hours. faustine grew quick physically, which was why her excuse became the obvious need to match that growth with more hunts and more food for herself. she had surfaced from the swamp looking much more disheveled than she ought to be. nonetheless, this provided her ample coverage in terms of scent that she continued to wade through it as much as she could. the terrain was more flat here than the rest, thus she took to the trees for a better hiding place. her trek had fared silently, though she knew it would no longer stay the same during the hunt. [yearling; no bonus]

roll:

Rolling 5d20: 13 + 10 + 11 + 14 + 6

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY LARS

It is early but Eris had always been an early riser. She had been far more adventurous lately since her first birthday had come and gone, and she was ready to explore the world. With no parents to demand she stay within the Mire and watch her every move like a hawk, she felt freer than she ever had before. Nowadays she was practically skipping over the borders, happy to escape the Mire if only for a little while. She always returned by evening and she was willing to bet that no one even noticed her absence to begin with. Perks of being a wallflower, she supposed. But on this morning she couldn't help the growing hunger in her stomach, and when the first scent of prey caught her path she was quick to follow. A chuff drifts through the slight breeze, summoning, and although Eris did not know the owner of the voice she still follows it nonetheless. When she arrives her gaze is quick to land on the woman with long curled locks and immediately she is intrigued by her. "Hello." She says quietly before moving towards her right flank, waiting for her cues and willing to follow them.

1 year, No bonuses
Hunt Luck roll:

Rolling 5d20: 19 + 8 + 2 + 17 + 13

[medic exp/doubled]
+10 Participate in a rolled hunt

code

+20 Remain undetected in a large thread
+20 Explore a territory and find something useful in it
+20 Find a notable landmark in a territory

The terrain here is not unlike that of the mire.

It's squishy and muddy, and it reeks of wet rot and cobwebs. More than that, though, the landscape here is more... exposed. Even with all that extra sunlight ( which there was little of today ), it still feels cooler here. A good place to come during the summer, maybe. Indeed, the mud squishing beneath his paws feels.. useful, almost. It could be used to cover scents and hides alike, and it's central location made the swamp a better choice than the mire.

He continues on, following the scent of... something. Someone. There's another here with the scent of the mire upon their pelt, probably drawn to the hunting call. A worthy endeavor, but not one he'd he partaking in today. Instead he follows @Eris, lurking in the shadows as he stays hidden from sight. She does not keep his attention for long though, as the mud beneath his paws changes. Here it's almost... clear. No, it is clear -- a divided channel among the brackish water. A frown turns his lips as he stares down at it, curious -- a strange landmark to find here.

Lucian is hiding

BG — ART — CODE

One Year old, no perks

+10 Exercise to gain strength (excluding spars) - Sept double XP
+10 Maintain your weapons (sharpen claws or care for teeth) - Sept double XP
+10 Participate in a hunt using the rolled hunt system - Sept double XP

The dim light of a cloudy autumn dawn revealed a smaller assembly of lionesses and lions, uniting for the purpose of another forthcoming hunt. Runa had developed a habit of seeking out these gatherings by now. Always with another goal. Always something to serve her.

Earlier, before arriving at the assembly, she had engaged in an unconventional exercise. Runa had spent hours toppling massive boulders that had been wedged precariously in the rugged terrain. Her efforts focused on leveraging her robust form and relentless determination to roll the stones aside, one by one, all to prepare her body for the explosive power she would need during the hunt.

Once again, she sharpened her talons on the rough bark of a fallen tree. The process was a ritual, a means of ensuring her claws were honed to perfection. Today will be another grueling work day.

Perhaps by now, she was enjoying it.


Hunt Luck Roll:

Rolling 5d20: 13 + 14 + 15 + 11 + 2

and i could've died last night

but i heard the the voice of a smaller god

code by corvus

1 year, no bonus

Gnetum, gnetum, gnetum. Say that five times fast. It's the plant she's fruitlessly been trying to locate for the largest part of the day. Unfortunately, it's turning out to be a bit of a losing proposition, what with the swamp holding so many different places for it to remain hidden. She sort of enjoys the challenge, though, unflagging in her determination as she flips every rock, parts every patch of grass, and sticks her head inside every blackened pool (yeugh). She has just finished doing the latter when the call arrives. A hunt. She supposes she could use a break from all her endless searching... especially with the promise of food in the offing. Her attention diverted, she starts away in her big bounding trot, intending to find the owner of that summoning voice.

Beatnik
+20 participate in a group or pride event

Nursemaid
+10 Participate in a hunt using the rolled hunt system
+10 Gather herbs for nursing or birthing

Hunt Luck Roll:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 6 + 19 + 4 + 12

BG — ART — CODE

3 years // no bonus

+20 Cast a curse or blessing on a character/group
+10 Participate in a hunt using the rolled hunt system

Though the Hodari wasn't usually up this early, or perhaps he should say up this late given that he'd been a creature of the night, the chuffs heard in the area were enough to draw the tired man's attention. A dark pelt didn't usually lend well to the daylight's strong sunrays, but at least fall was in full swing and soon enough winter would be upon them and the heat would be a thing of the past. Wading through the swamp wasn't Hero's favorite activity given his thick coat, but it was a necessary evil if it meant bring something home for the Summit.

As he closed in on the growing group of lions, several pride scents wafted towards his nostrils, and then he spotted them. Not the largest group of lions he'd seen preparing for a hunt, but perhaps the youngest. All besides one was maybe a year old, giving the Hodari doubts about their abilities. At least it seemed the older one was the one intent on leading things. Perhaps she'd like a hand in wrangling these young ones. "Spirits, bless this hunt. Aid us to be successful and keep the younger ones safe as they try," the cleric murmured to himself before getting too close. Eventually, though, the masked lion would slip in among the rest, though looked to @Kassandra with a firm nod. He'd do what he could to make up for the lack of experience with all these yearlings.

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 15 + 2 + 1 + 19 + 11 + 20

'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

9 years, no bonus

He needs to stretch his legs, and there's no better way than with a hunt. Well - a fight would be just as good, but the pit stands empty and there's an empty stomach he could fill. So a hunt it is. The good news is, someone else has the same idea. The giant lumbers onto the scene, scanning the gathering group with a soft chuff. A decent number, he thinks, for something big. He's always happy to lend himself to such efforts, especially when he doesn't have to do much running. His shape is better off doing the take down.

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 19 + 1 + 9 + 16 + 3

not participating

"What's your secret then, big bones?" the youngster muses as she slides up alongside the red-haired @Roarke; entirely devoted to making this hunt more akin to a thrilling encounter than a simple meal-chase. Though she may be young Birdie was not short on physical prowess; with flesh layed thick over a sturdy skeleton. Sure, she'd never amount to the likes of him, but she'd play her part well.

"Birdie Frei - teach me?" she would request, a coy smile weaving across the silvery edges of youthful lips, duo-toned gaze intent upon the hulking lions face as she came to stand by him.

_{art by flea}

9 years, no bonus

What had been planned for an easy meal quickly turns into a request for a lesson; a young plum thing trots over, and Roarke does a double take when he realises she is talking to him.

"You've big bones yourself, girl." He informs her, chuckling softly. "You just need to grow a bit more." @Birdie needs time, he thinks, then she'll tower over the other lions present. Maybe not him, but still.

But - she had asked.

"Hunting and fighting is the same, for us. We're not built to move fast. We have to go for the kill. Trying to out run or out manoeuvre something faster than you will just wear you out, and give them the advantage."

Roarke plonks down on his ass as he speaks, softly so he doesn't bother the others gathering around. "The others will drive the prey to us, and we take them down. That's the thing to remember - get them on the ground, and you've won." Perhaps his grin is a little sharp when it forms, black lips peeling back over his fangs.