They met on the beach as boy princes of rivaling kingdoms. While that first meeting (and a few thereafter) ended in blows due to their natures being too similar and led to them considering one another enemies, maturity formed them into different men entirely. Bruno had a way of stalking after him in fleeting moments while Tai was always eager to get away, until steadily their encounters turned more amicable – more understanding.

The art above is deceiving. Bruno and Tai, a flame burning since their earliest days as boys, are unaware that the Creator is blessing them with the impossible: a genetic litter of their very own. New love is simmering with all its fervor, but when has love ever been enough? Time is sure to remind them of all that has stood in their way: their traditional roles, the expectations of family, opposite ends of a blood feud, and hearts made in contrasting homes of dark against light. No matter what the ending, the journey will not be easy.

two of four available

ancestry

Dagfinnr x Emlin
  _{— Erna}

@Dero x Rooney
_{Kiton, Roan & Minerva  —}  

    @Alaric x @Erna
    _{— Luther, Bruno & Yrsa}

@Roan x @Faelyn    
_{Tai, Alvena, Hero & Bakarea —}    

Bruno Stärke-Rike x Tai Vandiir-Hodari
Clove, [TWO], [THREE] & Silke

older brother — @Freckle, adopted by Bruno

other family — both sides of the family have many other relatives onsite – too many to list efficiently. These cubs will have dozens of aunts and uncles, some step-grandmothers, and even cousins via Luther (including their reincarnated grandmother, wow).

They are also likely to have additional siblings in the future, pending relationship developments for the dads and/or DMs
amaryllis family tree

Due on October 31st, 2023



Bruno Parenting — Buckle up, there's a lot going on here. As new king of the mire and life-long royalty, Bruno has some expectations as to how things ought to be. Firstly, the heir should be a son, and there will be none born to him. As such, it is hard for him to fully hide his belief that this litter from a god he does not believe in is lacking. He has held a consistent resentment against women due to his less-than-kind upbringing by his late mother and the subtle (and not) sexism of the Stärkes. While this will probably be tempered by love for them as his progeny and as extensions of Tai, Bruno's love languages are keen observation and constructive criticism. His approval will be earned by diligence to the family, obedience, and feats of skill. His expectations are high and his frame of reference is harsh discipline.
Cubs are likely to be gifted a German family nickname from him and a political, hetero betrothal of his choosing. You've been warned.
I forgot to mention he's still in the closet. Anyway –

♪ I'ma put her in a dungeon under, under ~

Tai Parenting — Whereas Bruno is the face of authority, Tai is more doting and permissive. He is warm and comforting, without many expectations beyond the usual rules: mind your manners; stay out of trouble; and the like. The children will know him as the indulgent father — should they ever want to slack off, they only need to seek him out. He’ll readily take them away to have a day of fun and silliness. Tai has trouble denying them, even though it regularly puts him at odds with Bruno. He’ll not agree with using them as a way to strengthen his political standing by marrying them off, but he will encourage them to find a silver lining. He tries to be a positive presence in their lives, guiding them with gentle hands and love.

♪ I'm spinnin' like a ballerinaaAA ~

Names — Swahili from Tai. Optional ideas:
Aisha (living, alive); Amani (wishes, desires); Imani (belief, trust); Kenya; Zuri (beautiful) – swahili girl names
Surname — ???? the boys get to duke that out, standby.
Position — Ecrosia Mire Royalty (pending challenge)
Physical Traits — This litter is custom, but the design concepts are already set. Please don't let petals be a factor in applying, as we are happy to help make it happen.
(Please note original art is coming for them ASAP, the base designs are currently placeholders because Max is jumping the gun)
Trades — Can be most things, but Bruno would SQUINT at a cleric. He can mentor Barbarians and Assassins. Otherwise, he would be eager to match them with master mentors in Ecrosia, if available.




Cub #1 — (max)
Clove
Wishes herself born a boy simply so she could inherit – determined to be a king no matter what her father says.

Cub #2 — OPEN
Name
She presents herself in public with an air of formal regality befitting of a princess, but do those manners actually run deep?

Sex: Female
Size: Medium or Large
Coat: White
Eyes: Green
Markings: 1 Global: Swirling (Bruno)
8 Markings: dark socks (both), dark saddle (Bruno), dark helmet (Bruno), eye mask (Tai), eye shadow (Bruno), chin stripe (Bruno), beauty mark (Bruno), wrist mark (bonus)
Genetic Mutation: Extra Fluffy Fur, Curly Fur, Slightly Longer Fangs

Cub #3 — OPEN
Name
Despite having perhaps the mildest temperament of the girls, her likeness to her late grandmother earns relentless suspicion from Bruno.

Sex: Female
Size: Medium or Large
Coat: Dark Brown
Eyes: Purple
Markings: 1 Global: Swirling (Bruno)
7 Markings: dark socks (both), eye mask (Tai), cheek freckles (Tai), beauty marks x3 (Bruno), eye shadow (Bruno)
Genetic Mutation: Extra Fluffy Fur, Curly Fur, Slightly Longer Fangs

Cub #4 — (flea)
Silke
What this runt lacks in size, she makes up for in a bubbly, possibly lethal personality.

to apply

While this pair is very established and has been building for a long time, all we ask is that adopters read up on their past threads together and their profiles! We welcome anyone who is new to the scene or to these families. Due to their development and the years of planning that have gone into this, we strongly prefer that these characters are planned as mains (even if cub ramp-up is slow). If the character does not click for you, we ask that you be willing to return them for adoption as we would really like to see them played long-term.

Adoption Clause:
While we love in-character conflict and development, we ask that major upsets like death, maiming, and kidnapping be run past us first while they are cubs. We reserve the right to take them back if they go inactive within the first IC year.

For applications, please provide:

1. a write-up of the personality and/or vision you have for the cub. The short blurbs provided about them can be ignored if you would like.
2. a sample post of the cub! Feel free to do whatever strikes muse, and to power-play family if it's needed as this is just hypothetical. If you prefer a prompt, write about the night at home before an important alliance meeting. Don't feel pressured to have to write a novel; it's easy to get a vibe from a couple of paragraphs.

Due By: October 22nd

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck

---

inspiration

moodboard
playlist
circe from epic, other ways
circe from epic, done for

power and control; i'm gonna make you fall

---

if I cannot have your love I will have your fear.

a creature born from desire - love? - but raised in strife. a daughter, prim and careful, born to please her fathers and wanting nothing more than their love. their pride. imagine her surprise when green eyes turn skeptical, suspicious, and her heart withers in her chest.

tentative and uncertain around her father, she often walks on eggshells to try to smooth any of his strange ire and mistrust of her. ramla will grow to be quiet, to be observant and watchful and knowing. a presence that will elicit complacence, underestimation, because she knows knowledge is the true power. wielding secrets and plans like a sword, poised at the throat of her enemies. she is not wicked or vicious, but she is every bit as cutthroat as the rest of her kin: she simply does it quietly, carefully, while sweetly smiling all the while.

ramla is determination, she is a purification fire burning hot; she is caught, ever-at war with herself, as she struggles between wanting to be obedient and please her father... and wanting to watch him burn as much as the others. angry, deep under it all. a great, simmering hatred that poisons what might otherwise be a sweet soul.

she talks little - but thinks often. in her own head ninety percent of the time but so rarely speaks ( especially to certain family members ) that it's possible many will think her mute. the epitome of be seen and not heard with a façade of demure, victorian grace - but a sharp cunning beneath. will be a manipulator at heart, if only to get what she most desires in this world: love. and, she may decide, if she cannot have love... fear will do. she has the possibilities of endless outcomes laid out before her and, undoubtedly, her experiences will shape her and nudge her from one path to the next.

ramla

meaning "the prophetess"

voiceclaim

milly alcock as rhaenyra

and i am more than these bones

---

trades

cleric + undecided, possibly ambassador

goals

* i would love for her to grow into my main, tbh. i have been DYING for a betrothal and dynamic family situation and this is it lads

* want her to be able to make (little) prophecies that end up correct

* friends w spirits and guardians, esp in youth

* would accept her betrothal but utilize it like a weapon

she can feel his disapproving stare from across the glen; it settles between her shoulders like a heavy hand, pressing. she thinks, perhaps, she can even feel the points of his claws curving, digging in, in in: until, finally, she can take it no longer and she has to look. her purple eyes roll up, head tipping in some vague attempt to be sly, to be unnoticed. ramla tries for casual as she turns, squinting as if at something in the distance, when really she's scrutinizing him. father. he stands at the edge of their territory, waiting for the arrival of the other young royals. and he's scowling. that, in itself, is not unusual. truly, even the way he's scowling at her is not unusual.

what is, is that her nostrils flare. that she turns her chin and meets his gaze, her own impassive and neutral even as a muscle jumps in her jaw from the tension singing through it.

her heartbeat kicks an irregular rhythm and she feels ill as she holds his gaze, feels her limbs tremble under the heft of it. but she counts down, slowly, in her head. three; she blinks, claws flexing in the peat and curling around a stone she can feel beneath her. two; something in his face tightens - surprise? uncertainty? hatred? - she can't tell what, and she swallows, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth. one; there's a shaky exhale that escapes her dark lips, elongated fangs snatching the edge of one and biting down to force herself not to look away fast, to duck her head and mutter and apology. instead, she slowly shifts back to where she'd been looking before, out across the territory.

waiting, because she knows somewhere out there is going to be her fate. and she's going to rise to meet it, even if her father chooses it for her.

bc i won't know if i don't try

zuri / nala

^{BARBARIAN/ASSASSIN, ASSASSIN/SLEUTH??}
she reigns advantageous and opportunistic. while she can play nice and often times will do so to save face, the girl sees in mostly black and white. there is the dominant and the submissive, the strong and the weak. one could say that she would bleed black if you cut her open but beneath deep and mysterious eyes lie an even deeper soul. one that perhaps was born eons ago in a world full of the terrors that haunt the dreams of children.

she is likely to start a fight over nothing, to argue despite knowing she's wrong and intent to show power when she feels weak. with a deep desire to please both väter, she does as she is told. like an obedient child but occasionally it will be met with mild resistance. or at least a grumble and a roll of her eyes. will forever be frustrated by her "limitations" as a child (not getting to do grown-up things) or, in more basic terms, being told "no" will likely force her to throw hands.

will take a betrothed to please her väter, but will do so with obvious intent that she will wear the pants in the marriage. will likely be rather indifferent towards them romantically and see love as a nuisance/something to get in the way of her goals and dreams. is equally indifferent to the fact that one vater in particular regards her like there is toxin in her blood. perhaps this is why she resorts to using poison herself (should she choose assassin) so that she can prove her father's scrutiny right.

will use whatever she has in her arsenal to get what she wants in that moment, even if it means lying. she'd take your soul if she could.

*using "she" and "likely" a lot since i don't yet know her name and bc role-play could change her pre-made path*

code by scorpixia♡︎

roleplay sample:
an end was coming. an end to something that was both a bane and a boon, a solution for the future that was important. an event that even if she wanted to, she could not avoid. for in the middle of the night, she moves in pacing formation forty feet from the family den. mumbling nonsense and obscenities, an effort to get out her frustration before she was no longer able to do so. for tomorrow, she would likely have a betrothed if the meeting went the way her vater expected it to.

there was no way that she could ever be happy about being tethered to some stupid loser for the rest of her life. sick to her stomach about the prospect of love and praying to whatever God was listening that they die an early death and she be disqualified from the contract. left alone to live her life the way that the world had intended: alone. and yet, there was the subject of knowing that it was crucial to the innerworkings of lion law. deep thought forcing her body to stop as though her legs had forgotten the function to move forward, brain slipping back and forth like a machine caught up in a strange code.

eventually her head snapped upwards breaking the broken connection before she turned her eyes upright, nose pointed in the direction of where she heard something SNAP nearby. Squinting her eyes she lowered her front half, lifting her lips to show her teeth to whatever thought to come disturb her antics. for she could not afford to let anyone see her second guessing and her wild thoughts. she was resolute, she was strong and she would not break. not today, most certainly not tomorrow and never for the days that were sure to come.

code by scorpixia♡︎

LET'S GOOOOO

musa/kali cub #3
CLERIC / SLEUTH

an enigma child who is like that of a puzzle that will never be finished. even as a child, musa is quiet, passive, and with a mild temperament unbefitting of the violent culture she was born into. more observer than doer, musa sinks into the shadows more often than allows others to know her move. lion-watching is her favorite pastime and she's more often trailing the paw steps of others or becoming a second shadow. while other cubs will learn the intricacies of pride politics, musa will learn none of that. not because she doesn't want to, but she cannot, no matter how many times both tai and bruno had to teach it to her. these words are a lost language, so different from the words whispered to her by her sisters. musa will have none of it; if she cannot understand then she will lose interest, though she'll never tell her teachers, as it has become part of her best-kept secrets. even as an adult musa will be strange, learning too quickly but also incapable of learning certain things. more of a loner, she seems to be only ever able to hold conversations with her siblings, perhaps other women, but never men who don't belong.

SAMPLE RP HERE:

they are whispering again, not the spirits of the drowned babes who swam under the mire, but the living bodies. musa wrapped herself against the side of the trunk, dirt, and grime clinging onto her skinny legs as she peered from behind. papa and father, again, because she no longer will let them teach her about these pride relations, betrothals, and whatnot. those words are foreign to her, raised like jagged animal teeth than something silky and swift that were spoken by musa's sisters. so when musa encountered the jagged ones, she left, turned her back to her father (bruno), and slipped out of the den. she might join papa tai later but what if he brings her to bruno? she understands bruno is upset at her, musa saw the way his mouth turned into a frown when she looked at him. sometimes, when she listened, she heard bruno talking about her. it may be to tai or to some other lion bruno trusted, but it was alwyas the same words that were so jagged and rough musa couldn't understand. yet still, bruno and tai were her father and papa, and she wanted to be play with them both. tai would play with her, but bruno never did in the way musa wanted him to. so, for now, she swallowed her kindling fear that she was going to be thrown away, and dressed herself as cold as the mire winter. slowly, like the shadows that watched over her, musa crept forward, until she was behind bruno. a game, she decided, she would simply play with bruno like she would always do a few months ago. musa wrapped her dainty paw around her father's ankle and pulled at it. "daddy?" she asked, wide eyes shimmering with her youth.

Cub #2
Kamari “moonlight”, Asante “gratitude or thanks”, Kamaria “like the moon”, Imani “belief or trust”, Itanya “hope”

She presents herself in public with an air of formal regality befitting of a princess, but do those manners actually run deep?

Answer: yes and no

Sex: Female
Size: Medium or Large
Coat: White
Eyes: Green
Markings: 1 Global: Swirling (Bruno)
8 Markings: dark socks (both), dark saddle (Bruno), dark helmet (Bruno), eye mask (Tai), eye shadow (Bruno), chin stripe (Bruno), beauty mark (Bruno), wrist mark (bonus)
Genetic Mutation: Extra Fluffy Fur, Curly Fur, Slightly Longer Fangs

D a l i l a
( swahili: meaning 'delicate' )


When she was young, they gave her a gun
And said, "shoot and run"

l i l a

moodboard

dark socks, dark saddle, dark helmet, eye mask, eye shadow, chin stripe, beauty mark, wrist mark
delicate little flower, beautiful sweet child. effusing light and happiness, a drop of sunshine in the dark gloom of her home. dalila all but glows in the shadows, exploring the depths of the mire with a bounce in her step unhindered by the sucking mud. it will often cling to the long fur of her legs in her cubhood; dalila does not mind, though certainly this will lead to necessary grooming sessions enforced by her papa. as she grows she will learn to bathe regularly, even if it is in the less perfumed waters of the mire, if only to avoid the annoyance of pulling mud from her fur.

bathed in the softest of shades, a lady wrapped in silk, half of her appeal lay in her simple shades. fine boned, masking the strength that lurks beneath the surface. demure little smiles enhanced by charming beauty marks, one set upon her cheek and one at her wrist, which she will extend so delicately for a kiss to the back of her paw. as she grows she will find power in the softness of her fur and will keep herself well groomed, allowing it to fall in gentle curls to frame her face.

Oh, she doesn't know much, but she knows this
Life's too short not to take risks

in the early days she will be oblivious to her father's criticism and even his sometimes harsh tongue will not pop her bubblegum bubble. all the same she will gravitate naturally to papa, blossoming under tai's gentle paw. for him she is saccharine sweet, all brilliant smiles and butterfly kisses.

around father she will be instinctively guarded, walking an edge she cannot see nor understand. a need to prove herself will spark young, a desire to be the best there ever was. while she may not be a boy she will prove herself worthy, adopting the mask-wearing trait that will become necessary in her line of work. the mire is home to many plants, after all, and dalila will learn young what ones can be used to suit her needs.

what needs, you might ask?

total domination the protection of her family, of course.

enemies of the mire will become personal enemies of hers; never was there a child that took every slight so deep to heart. with a mind like a steel trap she will not forget a face, keeping mental notes on every lion or beast she encounters and creating a special blend for every one. all of this behind a sugar-sweet smile and long lashes pressed against her cheek, playing the role so well she will have even those closest to her convinced she can do no wrong. the sunshine of her papa's life, rumors of her wrong-doing sure to bring shock and disbelief.

in the world of amaryllis she will play her part to perfection, adopting the manners that her father will expect, minding her p's and q's. a darling princess determined to earn praise wherever she goes, keen for the day that the whispers will trickle back home to her father. his is the praise she yearns for above all else, after all.

dalila's older personality will be shaped on site. expect her to be keen to please her parents (both of them) and constantly sharpening her skills to be of the most use. it is her personal desire to be more needed than any of the others, proving that her value does not lay in her gender. her perfect princess smile will be well crafted if only so that she may slip close to her father's enemies, gaining their trust so that she might stab them in the back.

"me? i would never do something like that! i adore you, darling!"

So she steels herself and she goes for luck
She pulls the trigger and lives it up

dalila knew that they were watching. even without the weight of father's criticising stare, or the uncertain warmth of papa's, she knew. this moment was important, crucial even, and there was no chance in hell she was going to screw it up.

chin up, and it lifts infinitesimally, a gesture that is not likely to be noticed by unfamiliar eyes. a small correction as her thoughts move on to the next; stand tall! with practiced ease she shifts her weight as if she had only grown tired in that position. as she readjusts she tucks her legs slightly more beneath her, increasing her stance and improving her posture in one fell swoop. don't forget, your smile is your best weapon. had father said that? or was that her own addendum?

it doesn't matter. dalila curves her lips, softening her expression and donning the easy warmth that her papa exudes. in that moment she is every bit the royal princess, friendly and welcoming, green eyes the gentleness of a summer forest rather than the sharp bite of stinging nettle. (she has some, by the way, wrapped carefully in a leaf and tucked in to her thick fur).

after all, a girl always comes prepared.

assassin
ambassador

On to the next one, gotta chase the thrill
You gotta chase the thrill

obviously i am THRILLED to be applying for this girl. just a few little additional notes!

* I intend Dalila to be a main leader-type character alongside Louve and Rohan. Im sure you both know I am reliable and consistent, and I will but my heart (and inevitably my bank account lol) in to this girl. I have yet to drop a character in my years on Amar and I don't intend for her to be my first!

* If for any reason you're unhappy with my activity with her then of course please say something!

* I love getting involved in plots, I am ravenous for a good betrothal plot, and I am always willing to discuss ideas!

* (more thoughts as i have them ^^)

Emani

"Emmie"

(ih ▪ man ▪ ee)
(assassin ▪ ambassador)
( moodboard )
( playlist )
____________________________________________

well fed devils behave better than famished saints

the martyr's age, ignorant of godflesh. composed of hot flesh, base heart - her legacy is a cry of rebellion. the glut, in all the letch of rust from rain. it is dry. it is swale, wanting. and she is reaching, reaching for the golden cup. a ravenous hunger that swells inside, a beast that careens it's ugly head in the light of a false shimmer. the blade that remains hidden well beneath the dwellings of lofty bubble-gum pink, and satin skins is but a devilish serpent to be released from it's cage. with little forethought there lies a tongue lavish in tarnished gold, coiled acutely around the sweat of her father's lagging brow. she learns from an early age of how easily words can be weaved within the willow's web - a master of aversion, the wolf in sheep's clothing. regality runs only as deep as one's blood-line lies. heavy blades of steel weave her corset carefully unto her ribs and through the woe of her
____________________________________________

( mystic morph python familiar)

Nyoka

(Swahili for 'Snake')

---

The house was awake, with shadows and monsters
The hallways, they echoed and groaned

Savage child, woven of shadows and silt, a hushed presence of shifting smoke held together by fluttering curls and scattered stardust. The stuff of dreams - or the hallmark of nightmares. A phantom sculpted out of the very clay of her gloomy home, the darkness of the murkiest waters brushed delicately over the richness of her earthen hide, dripping down wiry legs and inking the sharp planes of a strong, bearish face that cannot hide the even sharper points of fangs curving over a stiff lip. The speckling of sandy freckles dotted upon her cheeks are perhaps the softest part of her, softer even than the plushness of her thick, wavy hair.

She is more than the daughter of wolves, and those precious flecks are the only reminder etched upon her skin.

There is a flower blooming within her, suffocated protected within the dreary shell the gods have carved for her. The glow of its fragile blossoms reveals itself only in the blackest of shadows, gleaming in the reflection of her narrow eyes. Muted violet, dark like nightshade and no less beautiful. And no less deadly. A point of contradiction, like so much of her seems to be - An elegant mark of beauty stamped above gleaming fangs, regal ringlets curling over a strong jaw, dainty paws smeared with mud. The whole of her slender body is ceramic vase too sturdy to break.

She will not be broken.

---

And all the kids cried out
"Please, stop, you're scaring me"

~ Neutral Evil ~

The shadows are her companions. Her guardians, her escorts, her stalkers, her tormentors - Her lifeline and her bane. It is within the shadows that she hides when the weight of her father's inscrutable stare grows too heavy, and it is there that his judgement festers, a torturous itch embedded so deeply within her flesh that she could never hope to soothe it, even if she tore off her wretched skin. The shadows cannot protect her, for they stare at her just the same, dancing across her mind like jeering laughter, clawing always at the edges of her mind in hushed whispers.

(The eyes are everywhere - can't you see them? Always watching, always judging, always waiting)

Oh, but it is not that Nyoka has been deprived of light. The girl is naturally introverted, but she would not call herself. She is at her chirpiest in the warmth of Tai's loving presence, bright eyes and simpering lips accompanying sweet words woven to wrap her papa around her little finger. It is when Bruno's shadow passes over her that the playfulness fades away, something instinctive drawing Nyoka into herself, pulling her to stand a little bit taller, chin raised but violet eyes downcast. She cannot understand the desperate feeling that grips her, the need she feels to prove herself in her father's eyes, to fight back against the prickling, itching sensation that she has make up for something. After all, she'd behaved herself perfectly, hadn't she? ...Hadn't she?

(Is there something wrong with me?)

She is reserved, rigid in the way she holds herself, forever torn between a desire to fade into the background and the need to be seen as picture-perfect, even if only behind the cover of smoke and mirrors. Powerful but demure, quiet but charming, ambitious yet modest - the contradictory expectations pile on and on and on, an endless uphill battle. A burden that the young royal accepts, for the only other alternative would be to collapse beneath it.

She plays the game of politics as she must, ingratiates herself as she must, purrs and laughs and smiles in all ways that she must while she waits, waits, and waits, the fire within her restrained to a careful simmer. But which parts of the pretty picture she presents are real, and which are fake? What secrets lurk beneath the sharp gleam of her unreadable eyes?

Even she is not sure she knows. She doesn't always recall what happens when her control slips.

(Stopstaringatmepleasejuststopmakeitstop)

Sometimes she wonders if her feelings are meant to feel this way, desperate, aching, bitter, yearning to be free. She envies her sisters for the ease in which they carry themselves, the way the cold suspicion dissipates from their father's gaze when he looks at them, all while she does not rest for fear of making the mis-step that he's always been waiting for.

So what would happen then, in the moments that the leash snaps, when the whispers become too much, when she cannot take it anymore?

(The eyes are finally blinded, crying tears of blood at her feet, jeering tongues are swallowed up by her slavering jaws.)

Deep down, she's always known that all her fears were true. A monster lurks inside of her, a rage that will never be tamed.

I'm my own self-fulfilling prophecy

---

I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me

There exists no such thing as quiet, not even when all is silent.

The whisper of the wind, the babble of the stream, the crunch of frosted grass beneath her feet. It echos in Nyoka's head, no different than if the swamp was speaking to her, poking and prodding until it all sounds like sneering laughter in her mind. Never has she known the luxury of true silence, for the sounds of nature are endless and forever - she must pay them no mind. Lest she pay the price of insanity.

Quietly then, does the shadow weave her way through the thorns, ignoring the flecks of mud that clung so desperately to her fine wrists, just as if they were one of those idiotic boys that Father insisted she must marry. Ugh. The thought makes the girl snicker, mouth curling and dark nose wrinkling beneath the roll of violet eyes. But the childish expression fades as quickly as it had arrived, her wolfish lips pursing into a near-grimace as she glances surreptitiously towards the shadows she'd just emerged from, a familiar prickle flaring up the back of her neck.

Was anyone watching?

The dark holds far too many shifting shapes for her to be sure - but she counts them all anyway, peering through the gloom until her paws are submerged the cool water of that relentlessly chattering stream. She doesn't look down at them, allowing the thick, metallic red that stained her claws to swirl away into the waters unacknowledged. Worthless. As forgettable as the rest of this night had been.

And she finally slides her eyes shut so that she can take a sip, she counts the fluttering shapes behind her eyelids too. Only to startle when she opens them again, crystal droplets flying as she whips her head around, an explanation already sat upon her tongue. A pretty tale that would be wasted on the fake silence and whispering darkness that greets her.

She always does this.

The sweet, practice smile falls from her lips just as her gaze falls down to the clear water below, the shimmering face staring back at her adorned with amethyst windows and sand-speckled cheeks. There is no one beside her.

So why does she always feel the weight of his eyes?

Her reflection is shattered when a paw stamps delicately upon it, and the young princess moves on, her head held high and her hide cleansed of sin. And as the shadows reach out to swallow her up again, Nyoka pretends that she does not hear the stream cackling behind her.

---

Who is in control?
Alternative names: Kanika ("Black cloth"), Rafiya ("Dignified"), Niara ("One with high purpose"), Nadira ("Rare")

- These family dynamics have me in a chokehold, and I'd love for her to become one of my primary characters by the time she reaches adulthood (The Starkes and the Rike have both got me in a chokehold, help me)

- I'm 100% down for a good betrothal plot! So is she, if she can twist it to her advantage

- Family dynamics - Loves her sisters, but is the quickest to grow exasperated with their antics. Will absolutely cling to Tai like a burr while she's small. Wishes Bruno wouldn't look at her like she has mud on her face (It's called a beauty mark, Vater! It's beautiful!)

- I'm imagining a self-fulfilling prophecy plot arc for her overall, with her character development being characterized by agoraphobia and a paranoia stemming from Bruno's suspicions of her appearance, which will culminate in erratic, violent outbursts as she grows older. Please let me know if you don't find these themes appropriate <3

- Barb/Sleuth or possibly Barb/Cleric depending on development - Her shadow obsession could hint towards ties to the spirit world she just isn't aware of

bg x art x code

alright, we've given in to peer pressure and we're moving up the selection date to try and ease some waiting anxiety!

@Spu @Nova @yue @Mara @Shan @kins ★ @AbjectTerrier

chosen: Oct 22

I also just wanted to remind everyone that it is quite possible these cubs will not be born EM royalty, as Bruno would wish. But, don't exiled princesses sound fun? However, it's okay to withdraw if that changes things of course

The day has come! I know this is going to be hard no matter what we say, but I have to express how privileged we feel to have even received these applications. The time and thought you guys put into them really shows, and we certainly do not take that for granted. I have been saying for weeks, "even if we reserve one for everyone we can't live without, that still does not leave enough cubs." I had to 'politely encourage' my own real wife to hold off for the future just because I wanted to give out as many as possible and be fair.

All of that being said, we both hope this impossible choice does not change anything or reflect personally, as I genuinely think this is one of the most dedicated and impressive pools of applicants I have ever seen. We know you have been following their journey as a couple and, based on that alone, you all deserve one of these cubs in our hearts. I sincerely hope they live and stay together long enough that you all get a daughter of theirs in due time.

The litter is as follows:



Cub #1 — (max)
@Clove
Wishes herself born a boy simply so she could inherit – determined to be a king no matter what her father says.

Cub #2 — (@Shan)
Dalila


Cub #3 — (@AbjectTerrier)
Nyoka


Cub #4 — (flea)
@Silke
What this runt lacks in size, she makes up for in a bubbly, possibly lethal personality.



Adoption Clause:
While we love in-character conflict and development, we ask that major upsets like death, maiming, and kidnapping be run past us first while they are cubs. We reserve the right to take them back if they go inactive within the first IC year.

Also – just a reminder that Bruno is prone to picking up stray boys to raise up as wards, if you are looking for another way into the family. Cough hint cough.


“We reached for each other, and I thought of how many nights I had lain awake loving him in silence.”