Lune watches as fights are concluded and fresh ones breakout. Her attention flashing between each battle. As the main event has concluded so long ago, her interest in the gore and fanfare of it all has waned. Instead, she looks around with a medic’s eye - seeking the injured and needy. Her gaze tries to track her fellow pride members that have been locked into fights. She watches some as the head back towards the pride lands. Her small head swivels towards @Xavier. "I suppose we’ve stayed past our usefulness. I saw some members heading back towards the Bluffs. I’m going to see if they need medical assistance." Lune gazed into his lighthouse face. Rising to her feet, she is grateful for her place on the outskirts. Away from the chaos but close enough to observe. Close enough the help her fellow pride members should they need her assistance. Lune glances down at her medicine bag - so far unused, but that will not be the case much longer. The smell of blood stains the air, tangy and pungent, almost enough to sting her eyes. Lune pivots her body back to the direction of the Bluffs and rises to take her leave. To head home and provide her services.

Actions. Thoughts. "Speech."

Exit Lune.

code by flea, art by irish

Her teeth slice through his cheek but she isn't able to get a grip as he seems to stumble backwards and the mud makes him unsteady. It wasn't the easiest to fight in and she wasn't really sure she wanted to come back here again to fight but it did seem that the Mire liked its brawls. He charged back toward her and Amara sneered at the male. He was tiny, did he really think he could just ram into her? She snarled at him as his body clashed with her and she attempted to bite down along his spine on the back of his neck. Tiny men need to find their place in the world, under her paws and between her jaws.

Amara vs. @Recluse
Dom
Round 3 / 3

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 14 + 2 + 4 + 15 + 13 + 12 + 9

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 1 + 16 + 20 + 7 + 17 + 11

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 4 + 1 + 16 + 2

_{BG — ART — CODE}

The lioness was stubborn, even in the slick mud she proved difficult to move. Recluse was not built for brute strength, instead, he was slippery in the sense it was difficult to get a hold on him, leaving him to dance around an enemy, landing rapid strikes and giving them fatigue for their efforts. He was not as fast now, having already fought another lioness.

Could he win a fight against Amara? He believed he had a chance against anyone on an equal playing field. He hadn't lost in any of those instances so far. In the end, it would just be an exchange of a few blows and he would be on his way out anyway. Should he lose, he could still take satisfaction in the potential gift the queen could wake up to.

With a snarl, he would recoil as the lioness bit into his spine, partially protected by his length of mane. He would attempt to pull free, leaving gashes in the process, but leastwise his spine would suffer no great injury. He would aim a last vicious swipe of his paw towards her face and he backed up, wanting to put some distance between them. He would never take his eyes off her as he moved, his stance defensive in the event she jumped at him again.


Recluse vs. @Amara
for DOMINANCE (fatigued dice)
Round 3 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 2d20: 5 + 16

Dodges:

Rolling 9d20: 8 + 6 + 15 + 19 + 12 + 4 + 13 + 10 + 1

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 1 + 10 + 13 + 14 + 11

image by moogle/code by saph

He keeps a keen eye on the two brothers fighting, wondering if he and his own brothers would feel that way toward one another one day. He surely hoped not; all they had was each other and they couldn't afford to fight like savages towards each other. Ears twitch as Saladin heard @Evren being instructed to take home some cubs, inky lips curling in a half sneer. "I didn't know you liked babysitting," he quips, watching his brother as he rounded up those he were instructed to be in charge of. "I might come see what the Bluffs is all about." It wasn't a promise but it was something. Saladin was rather enjoying the rogue life and not having to take orders from any lion other than himself.

Dual colored eyes watch his brother leave, a glance being given to @Arryn. "What do you think?" He asks his other brother, referring to joining Wolfbron with Evren. Should the three stooges musketeers stick together? Gaze then moves back to the pride challenge, watching as it comes to an end and the current Mire King staying as that. There was nothing else keeping him here, so with another look at Arryn, Saladin begins to move in the direction that would lead him out of Ecrosia's territory.

exit Saladin.

art by spu, table by dee

How fortunate that Myra had no genuine interest in waiting around to hear some sort of answer from the girl - she would only have been disappointed.

@Eris proves to be a slippery feline, petite enough to duck underneath a fallen tree that Myra must leap over at the last minute, breaking the huntress's stride just long enough to put the yearling out of reach of all but the swipe of Myra's outstretched claws. Scarlet blooms upon a hide of spun silver, but it isn't enough to throw the runner off her feet nor halt her desperate flight.

Yet the girl has not escaped the golden Noble's clutches just yet.

Frustration urges the huntress onwards in another short burst of speed, fatigued muscles refusing to give up just yet, no matter how loudly their fibers screeched. Myra's head snakes forward, jaws gaping in an attempt to catch Eris's streaming tail before it could be fully tucked out of reach, right forepaw lashing out once again to try to trip the pale yearling up by her ankle, this time.

It was always the legs that needed to go first, wasn't it?

Myra vs. @Eris
Dominance / Not so fast
Round 2 / 3
Hits*:

Rolling 6d20: 2 + 20 + 13 + 17 + 15 + 11

Dodges*:

Rolling 3d20: 4 + 6 + 18

Luck*:

Rolling 6d20: 20 + 15 + 2 + 17 + 7 + 9

*Fatigue dice applied | +1 Luck due to presence of Lead Scout

ART COPYRIGHT IRISH

Panic floods her system as @Myra is hot on her trail. The woman was ruthless, and Eris wasn't entirely sure what she'd done to warrant her fury. Of course, she hadn't participated in the fights, but that was true to her nature anyways. She was a medic. She preferred to heal versus harm. The Ecrosian's had no way of proving that she was a traitor, she had no reason to give them those thoughts other then being the spawn of Luther. Eris had hoped that ducking beneath the fallen log would slow Myra's pace but it only made her speed up, despite her dismay. Tears spring to her eyes as the woman bites down on her tail and she yanks herself forward, away from her jaws. She feels the lacerated skin, raw and bleeding and tears roll freely down her face now. This was all because of him. This was all of his fault! Myra's paw lances her right hind leg, causing her to trip up slightly. She just barely manages to catch herself but she's slowed significantly. She just needs to get out of here, and hopefully in one piece.

Eris is attempting to escape!
Escape attempt 2 out of 3

Rolling 1d10: 6

code by flea, art by rabbit

LEIAH

A true air of disappointment rings through the girl as she snaps at empty air, hoping to leave @Odette with a reminder of her wrath. She didn't care that she had her own wounds to account for, what mattered was that she had fought for her family. She was a Saxe until she died. Her attention shifts to another fight, realizing far too late that it was in regards to her own freedom. Now where the hell was the fun in that? All too soon it becomes abundantly clear that she would not be leaving the Mire, at least not anytime soon. The girl lets a dark smile take place on her features, "If you'd like to keep me, so be it. Your mistake." She seethes in clipped tones, immediately sticking close to @Siofera as they both had suffered the same fate.

exit.

[barbarian exp]
+5 - Complete a fight (v. Odette & Ciara)
+5 - Lose a fight (v. Odette & Ciara)
+10 - Participate in a war (EM v. AO)

code by flea, art by yumpy

that familiar slick of brindled fur draws a quick simper from the gape in her jaws as @Halimede rallies to their viewing party, wedging herself so perfectly between she and their focused king. however invigorating her added presence – however welcome – the vindictive intent she so-nonchalantly voices earns the bemused quirk of a brow and drop of the stomach. and though olive offers a good-spirited snort in agreement, still, she scours her peripherals warily: hopeful so as not to catch another glimpse of rainbow ever again in her lifetime. then and only then would she be pitted against her sunflower — thrown into a race of first dibs that she’d sooner avoid in all her idle, cowardly glory.

attention wavers as the main event comes to a brutal close and the triumphant king casts his demands to the surrounding crowd before re-engaging. @Violarum were quick to act (and thank the gods for doing so on lorien’s behalf, so she and hali could sit pretty), and an exhilerated, dramatized dog bark of support follows him into the arena. but as the saxe tyrant – gored and exhausted as he were – moves to defend the poor doe vio sought to steal, so does olive’s crooked smirk widen. “what about his eye? does that suffice?” she croons to hali, gesturing to the heavy weep of the newly-inflicted maim before the challenge derails to a family affair of sorts. the unfounded adversity of kian and consequential outrage of anni quickly snuffs the amusement from her features, and she leans closer to hali’s ear with softened vocals. “i wouldn’t touch that with a ten foot branch,” she muses, bewildered by the audacity of vio’s wayward mini-me.

widened lenses witness as the drama unfolds; but even a mere spectator, as she, knew the scales tipped to favor the unwounded duo. and as the battle reaches its peak, so does olive wordlessly detach from her chaise and cherished tabby to gravitate to vio’s pretty, silent, dumbfounded prize. “no hard feelings,” she offers to @Bordeaux in her languid approach, tones neutral. “i think that one would have torn us a new one if we didn’t try.” a sweeping bob of the crown tips to bruno: the grumpy man of the hour — and vio’s ally, no less. a shrug of the shoulders communicates of olive’s flippant outlook before she presses onward with the intent to depart and a glance back to the pastel woman. “you can come with now, if you want. but i’m sure i’ll see you later, anyway.” and with a curt nod, so does the plains queen toddle off from the battlefield, and back to her peaceful keep.

-- exeunt olive

art by yumpy / code by corvus

Why indeed, does Myra pursue the youth so relentlessly? Perhaps the simplest answer is that it is a mistake to run from a huntress who's already caught the taste of blood. Through the fog of war, the wispy girl looks an awful lot like prey.

Though even the smallest of hooved beasts know how to put up a better fight than this. Myra finds little retaliation, even when delicate skin is sheared beneath her fangs, pale tail ripping away from her jaws alongside an echo of pain reverberating in Myra's ragged ears.

A coward then, indeed.

Her strike against @Eris's ankle lands true, catching the girl off balance just enough. This is the opportunity that Myra must capitalize upon, for if the huntress allows her to slip away now, the hunt would be at its end - instinct tells her so.

Thus, in the moments before the other could regain her previous speed, the golden Noble would gather herself for one final pounce forwards, forearms outstretched in an attempt to slam her weight down against the curve of Eris's pale spine. Glittering fangs reached blindly forwards in the hopes of snatching up the soft skin at the yearling's nape, eager to render her captured beneath her iron grip.

Myra vs. @Eris
Dominance / Not so fast
Round 3 / 3
Hits*:

Rolling 6d20: 6 + 18 + 7 + 2 + 12 + 8

Dodges*:

Rolling 3d20: 1 + 2 + 15

Luck*:

Rolling 6d20: 14 + 11 + 5 + 2 + 18 + 20

*Fatigue dice applied | +1 Luck due to presence of Lead Scout

ART COPYRIGHT IRISH

She can feel @Myra practically breathing down her neck and it sends a real surge of fear within her. She was a coward, Eris would not deny that. She had always been a fragile girl, this moment was no different. She tried her best to duck and weave despite the hot pursuit from the huntress and she knew that eventually, whether it be today or not, Myra would find her. Perhaps she should just give up entirely and let herself be caught, but there was some desire deep within her, some instinct to fight. Eris wanted her freedom, was willing to try to escape in order to keep it, even if it meant accumulating a multitude of wounds from the older and vastly more experienced woman. With one last final surge she attempts to push herself forwards even faster than before, a last-ditch effort to escape Myra's clutches.

Eris is attempting to escape!
Escape attempt 3 out of 3

Rolling 1d10: 9

code by flea, art by rabbit