When Odette hears the start of the fight, she is closer to the Bluffs than she has ever been, out searching for herbs. Her heart thunders in her chest, as her expression shifts from one of intense interest- to curiosity that she cannot deny. She knows that they are allies to the Bluffs, and so she moves towards the borders- crossing them only to witness the challenge. Odette arrives quietly, aiming to stay on the outskirts of the challenge- her eyes locked on the matriarchal battle of the land. She remembers that the leaders had been at her brother's fight with their father- and so she supposes she will watch and see whom reigns as the leader here today. She sits back on her haunches, careful eyes on them to assess the wounds and the fighting styles- to see what she can learn from the two Queens.

ART BY KIM, CODE BY LARS

Lune was harshly ripped away from the lull of a half sleep by the call. Her days had already begun to blur together and, admittedly, she did not put up much of a fight to draw distinction between them. The chills of winter had settled within her den, rooted itself firmly in the furs she didn't bother building them up or changing them out. Come what may, it was what it was. The girl was partly tempted to curled back up and rejoin the fight for rest, but knew better than to ignore such a call. It was the call of her matriarch. Lune was also desperate to keep up appearances - she didn't want to draw suspicions around herself as she processed by being absent from pride events. And so, she found her self rising to her feet and trudging out of the gossamer warmth of her den.

It appeared that she was late to the party. The golden girl's dual toned eyes took in the scene. Louve and Amara locked into battle. Slowly she looked around at the other pride members, trying to discern the situation. Lune knew better than to question things, instead she took a spot near the edge of the crowd. Close enough to observe and maybe catch a little bit of a conversation here or there, but still far enough away that she could potentially slip out unnoticed. Lune found herself looking around for @Xavier, feeling the familiar leap of her heart in her throat in spite of herself and she studied the faces of the other pride members. So many unknown faces. Not finding his, she turned her gaze back to the sparring queens.

ART & CODE BY DAWN, CODE MODIFIED BY CALA

He knew the call would come. It were written into his sister's very destiny; a fate meant for her, never for him. The sting of it eased knowing from the start he were never meant for such affairs. The matriarchy of their ancient family driven into him from his first breath, evidenced in his lowest spot among his throng of sisters and nieces. Xavier were an anomaly, in a way; never wanting power or ambition but jealous of it regardless, jealous because it were something he could not have even if he'd wanted it. Where Kings named their sons their Heirs, Xavier would be nothing more than a Prince, and it were a fate he was easily resigned to, despite all the emotions that unfurled within. No one could truly say what would have become of Kieran's son if he'd stuck around; instead, his only son was subjected to a life of uncertainty, or never truly knowing his path, his purpose.

He was avoiding the fight on purpose. Another way to stave away the cruel reality of his position.

But even he could only stand so much pacing around his den. Eventually, he pushed himself outward, the consuming trill of his troubled mind guiding his paws thoughtlessly toward the crowd. Eventually, the roar of battle and cheer rose above the whirring of receding winter winds, and as he cusped the last rocky cliffs toward their arena, he could see the crowd beginning to gather. Throngs of small cubs (both sisters and nieces) gathered near their parents, excited whispers and rumors breeding under their breaths. Xavier watched from afar, atop a perch where he could witness the star-speckled flank of his mother clashed against the mottled of Louve's. He remained wordless, expressionless, uncertain of the feeling that lived within his chest. For so long had they lived under the careful leadership of their mother; now it felt as if they were stepping into the unknown, relishing the power and position that had been bestowed upon them by their parents. And Xavier, so loved and valued among them, would get nothing.

Nothing but her.

When he spots @Lune, he slowly slinks his way toward her, no more than a disgruntled gargoyle, troubled that he'd had to make an appearance in the first place. He regrets suddenly that he was born so large, incapable of slipping by his lover's side unnoticed. Yet, he remains wordless upon his approach, aiming to gently bump his head against the golden shroud of her neck, finding comfort in the soft saccharine of her scent. And all at once, he felt at ease once more; she was his mercy, she was his surrender.

Art by Dawn, table by cala

“Curse my ignorant mother…”

The phrase came as a bitter grumble from the tripod lioness as she awkwardly loped across the rocky landscape of the Bluffs, knowing she wasn’t keeping up with those who had preceded her to the call. She couldn’t; as well as she’d adjusted to life with only three legs, her speed had unfortunately been taken from her, and especially navigating a region that held plenty of rocky pitfalls and drops she didn’t dare risk testing her dexterity now.

But her condition didn’t stop her from making an appearance, or from slinking closer among her fellow pride members to sit in their midst, a relative stranger, to witness the battle at hand. She didn’t know either lioness locked in combat but could easily guess: one had to be Amara.

She tried in vain to listen to the conversations around her, but at least half of it was spoken in a tongue she couldn't comprehend. But she listened all the same, trying to pick out the bits and pieces she could, and she started to put the puzzle together. A challenge! A successor finally stepping forward to take on the full mantle of the pride. Patience smiled as she watched the women with interest. She wasn’t the medic of the pride, but she couldn’t shut her inquisitive mind off enough not to consider how she might treat the injuries she saw sprouting before her eyes.

under the chemtrails 
over the country club

It's as if noting his absence made him appear.

Or, rather, she only belatedly notices him. When @Apollinaire appears, she smiles -- real and true, despite her waning mood. His words, though, are met with a curious tilt of her head. maman va gagner, mom is going to win. she says, in lieu of another -- better -- answer. Of course louve was going to win. Even if louve lost, she would still win.

This is what they've shown her, that's what she knows.

Lazare herself had lost her fight, the crown slipped easily between her fingers -- but she had gained so, so much more. She holds tight to that knowledge, the very same that only she knows. An heiress she might not be, but she's more than that. Likewise, her mother will follow suit. High sovereign or not, she is already more than her crown. She's filled with such certainty about this that APOLLINAIRE has the right of it -- she's not excited.

She's almost bored, until @Valère speaks. Ears tick forward as she looks at him; her father answers gis question for her, but her curiousity lingers. qui es-tu? who are you? she asks, not unkindly -- pale eyes sharp and focused, for once. Her attention is split though, between the boy himself and the.... belongings at his paws. Plants? For... something. Quels sont ces? what are those?

code by flea, art by irish

Delphine's lips turned downwards slightly as the seconds ticked by, leaning instinctively into @Cyrène's frame as she made her approach, seeking to greedily soak up the warmth that her sister provided. The babe's eyes, however, never fell away from the battling frames of her family - mother pitted against daughter -, preoccupied by the carnage whilst her stomach churned with an emotion that she could not quite grasp. "je suppose," she replied lowly, curtly, though her feelings of discontent were not directed at her own littermate. How were they supposed to understand this; their lives, their legacy, seemed to hang in the balance of it all, teetering on a tightrope that they had no control over. How were they supposed to understand that they could, and perhaps were expected to, take from one another, no matter what it was that they wanted. Delphine would remember that expectation, if nothing else, even if in this moment she disliked the idea of her maman being anywhere but seated upon the throne.

Amongst the reeling violence, however, the brunette would come to realize that she wanted to be strong, like that, like them -- to weave the threads of her own fate, to control what others would seek to influence on her behalf. She felt this desire in the way that her bones now trembled, and the way in which her dark, jovial brows knitted themselves together in the center of her forehead. She felt small, in this moment, and did not quite like it. The rest of spectators were older, more experienced, and more vibrant than she -- and delphine, tucked quietly alongside cyrène and @Josephine, realized that she knew very little about the world in which they lived, and the complex labyrinth that was dieudonné.

She would consider this her first true lesson, no matter the outcome.

"What a mess this might be," Arcania practically purred as she entered the gathering to sit at @Icefang ♔'s free side, sparing a glance and a raised eyebrow at the girl on her other side that she didn't know. One of Icefang's gathered brood, perhaps? "Wonder how things might change if the girl wins," she mused softly. What she did know was that Amara had defended the crown many times before, whereas the sovereign... well she'd never had the opportunity to do so. Wouldn't it just be a shame if Louve gained the crown and then lost it to the next who tried to take it? Hilariously embarrassing, Arcania decided.

Where was Faolan, she wondered. The only friend she had in this place, and she didn't see her yet. Nor that Jean-Claude that she'd been so silently feuding with for her attentions, though it seemed she shouldn't have worried about him.

She nudged Temero in line, settling him neatly between her front paws. "Watch," she instructed. "Learn something. These two are quite skilled."

Mother had told him to come, and so he would. He trotted along beside her eagerly (okay, more like after her because her longer stride made it easy for her to outpace him) as they came to the gathering. There he hid his confusion, as he'd always been told to stay away from the others within the Bluffs for the most part, but here she had brought him to a group of what surely had to be the entire pride (he had no concept of the size of their home). So what was going on?

They settled in beside grandma and another lady he didn't know, nor did mother make a comment to her. Arcania's own comments on the scene before them he didn't understand, but when he was told to watch and learn he obeyed, eyes fixed upon the pair of lionesses that everyone else was watching. Oh, this was to be the first real fight he got to watch!

+5 - Observe a fight

Hmm, what might this mean for the pride? Dysnomia knew how well Amara could defend the throne, and trusted that she wouldn't lose it. Louve, on the other hand, hadn't had to do so yet, and as such she hoped that if the woman did win, she wouldn't be out on her ass with nowhere to go again like she had so many times before. If she did, then maybe she'd just go back to the lagoon and refuse to leave, no matter who led there. Or maybe she'd do what she'd mentioned to Evren before (who was there, she noticed, but though she sat near him she didn't go join him because he was with his little girlfriend. crush. whatever) and try to take it. Wouldn't that be hilarious.

She was getting ahead of herself, though, and so she forced herself to settle in and just wait, and watch, and see what happened, both now and in the coming months.

Leila knows she shouldn’t be here.

She has no right, after what she has done - after her cowardice. As guilty as she feels, creeping past the borders of the bluffs, she doesn’t regret a moment of her children’s guaranteed safety.

It is foolish of her to indulge her curiosity so - following the call, because this is a battle for the bluffs, not between an interloper but between Amara and Louve and as much as her heart aches at the thought of how she had left things with the chartreux woman Leila is not so bad a friend as to ignore something so significant for her.

Even if she thinks she might not be welcome.

The tigress had intentionally not told Dragos of her destination that day, not wanting her sleeping mate and cubs to be disturbed as she slipped out into the grasses.

Leila finds a spot amongst the rocks where she can see it all, flattening herself into the shadows and making herself small and indiscreet. She needed to see the outcome.

Round-eyed, she watches.

— Leila is attempting to hide, perm given to post!

art © wilthking