Be on your toes — they might not be so friendly.

It's the only warning Ludivine gives @Léontine before they set off in the direction of their former enemy. Much has changed since the last time she laid eyes on the harsh cliffs of the lands, but she doesn't expect that everyone might have been informed of the changes. No matter. There was no fear to be found in the newly crowned co-matriarch's body as she slithers across the borders and heads deeper inland, in the direction of where the call had originated from. Her head is held high, tail a beacon above her hips as well as she draws ever deeper into the cannibal lair.

A horde, now just as much hers as it is @Louve ♔'s. But there was time for that later. Line between the family now erased, bonds broken and sealed with blood — she was more than willing to watch the ascent of the young chartreux serpent to glory. Let her also know what it feels like to have the weight of a crown atop one's head, bathed in blood.

Ludivine approaches without a word, taking a seat separate from the rest — but marking their faces and their positions in her head all the same. She remembers the arrogance of their words from her own challenge, and though she silently seethes with the desire to get pay back, she remains calm instead. The calm before the storm. Her eyes linger on the crowd for only a few heartbeats more before she turns her attention to the show at hand, curious as to who might clamber to the top — pray it not be the interloper.

ART BY SCARF — CODE BY SILH

GOD KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY AND SO SHALL WE

It pleases him to hear the gurgles of discontent. They will precede the christchild ripping herself out of the stomach of her mother.

Vermier is certain of the outcome. A loss for Louve would be at most a stay of execution. The beast ambled toward the fight, enjoying the lack of urgency and accompanying confidence. There is one good thing about being born a male: voyeurism is a less deadly occupation. He can influence and observe and chew on a long bone (baboon femur) while winter flakes fall on his skin and are slow to melt. On his scar-stretched forehead they trickle down and the scar becomes surrounded by hints of frost.

dionysïa

and i was helpless, tormented, and intoxicated, by the sweetness of your cruelty

i heard the sounds of fighting long before i moved to follow them.

i wanted to move quickly, to witness the first shed of blood on the ground; but i am gnawing on the bone of a stolen leg. i waited until everyone had seem to be going on with their daily duties, and then there was the call that pulled them all from their routine.

it was the perfect cover.

but now i was torn between my prize and the chaos that ensues at the center of wolfbron.

i huff.

taking my prize with me, i make my way to the circle around my maman and grandmere. i pick a seat i think hides me from the others, anyone that may see my meal and know where it is from. with my perch chosen, a clear view of the fight secured, i sink to the ground and wait to see the victor.

-dionysia thinks she's hiding but she's not very good at it-

Another challenge for wolfbron, but...

She feels like she's missed something, here. It's not some random man come to try and wrench the crown from Amara -- here, the challenger is louve. Wasn't she already sovereign? A confused expression wrinkles her features as the healer settles in to watch. There was... quite a bit about the bluffs that she didn't necessarily understand. And the snippets of conversation she hears doesn't answer anything -- the lilting language of the lions Herr still remains firmly out of her grasp, and it will always be othering. fortunately for faolán, she is not the only outsider here.

She drifts towards @Arcania ♔ ( and @Icefang ♔ ), chuffing softly as she seeks to recline at arcania's free side. Not inserting herself to interrupt them, though it's hard not to as she double-takes, seeing @Temero. Surprise flickers across her features at the sight of the boy, cloaked in such a familiar pelt of pink.... mismatched gaze flicks to arcania as she softly asks: yours? Surely not....

Surely she did not miss her friend's entire pregnancy.

BG — ART — CODE

ooc: ** means French speaking Was he surprised to hear the challenge ring out? Honestly, yes. They had enough shit to muck through besides ripping each other to pieces. The red coated lion approached the sounds of the brawling woman, a sour look on his face. His allegiances would not be entirely changed based on whatever outcome, but he was annoyed. How could they stand strong and defiant against the rest of Amaryllis if they were busy bickering amongst themselves? Tripfire reclined into a seated position, his ears back in his mane while he observed this. Maybe there was something more here than he realized, and it was this reason alone that he kept his jaws shut. Trust the process. "talk"

Art and Code by Cloudy

Oh there she was. Speak of the devil and all that. Arcania was pleased the woman was still around, and that she chose to come join her at this little challenge. A low chuckle escaped her after her pleased smile as Faolan asked her about the boy at her feet.

"Mine," she confirmed. "Though not by birth. Found him outside my den one morning. I would have thought it a prank had he not looked so much like the rest of the family," she explained. It still seemed odd to her, months later. Some impossibility made real.

"What do you think of this?" she asked softly, glancing towards the fight between the sovereigns. She was curious as to @faolan's opinion on the matter.

icefang

@Etain chuffs a greeting and Icefang nods gently at her as she settles nearby. "Pay attention," she murmurs to the golden girl "Notice how they defense themselves and look for weak points on their opponent." While Etain did not belong to her, Icefang couldn't help but use the opportunity for teaching. There was always a chance that she could grow on the girl and use it for her benefit in the future.

Her skull turns as @Arcania ♔ joins her on her other side with little Temero in tow. Her shoulder would gently touch the darker lioness as a small symbol of affection and acknowledgement. 'Yes, this could change things," she responds quietly as she becomes lost in thought. She had banked on Amara remaining high sovereign while she plotted her own plans. She was not familiar with Louve and wondered how the potential change in leadership could affect her. Regardless, Icefang knew she would push on to achieve what she wanted. Or she would die trying.

Her attention shifts to @Faolan as she joins Arcania's side. Icefang dips her chin slightly to greet the other lioness having recalled seeing her around the territory. She hoped that her connection to Arcania could be useful in the future. Ears push forward to listen in on their conversation as her attention moves back towards the fight.

ART & TABLE BY AURORA

The pines, they often whisper

They whisper what no tongue can tell

More arrived, though none of them quite drew her attention. Instead she found herself quietly sitting, her tail flicking against her flank as she thought of what a change in leadership would bring. Would it put a wrench in her own plans? Or could it be a new advantage? Dual toned eyes briefly lingered on the lioness and cub that arrived at Icefang's other side and she gave a small dip of her head in greeting.

Muscles shifted under light speckled shoulders, paws kneading the ground. Yet another day where witnessing such a battle made the girl itch for more. But she knew it wasn't time yet. One day, when she was truly ready, then she would have time in the light. Until then, she would do as she was told, watching and learning.

The arrival of a familiar shape drew her attention, floppy ears lacing back. Silky fur rose on the back of her neck and spine, lips peeling from sharp fangs in a silent snarl. Once more did her muscles flex as she shifted, a tightly coiled spring coiling tighter still. Drifting attention was drawn by @Icefang ♔ once again when she spoke. "Yes," she responded with a growled purr, her attention returning to the clash of bodies, watching them shift and twist, watching the way claws and fangs aimed, the way muscles shifted under darkened fur. There was more on her mind, though she didn't speak of it. Instead she simply watched and listened, heading the words of the older lioness. Perhaps, this growing connection was going to benefit them both.

code by corvus

they better learn to be, to their co-matriarch. a sharp retort, a lip wrenched back from a gleaming fang - but she had nodded nonetheless. she knows that @Ludivine is not wrong, even if she hates it.

léontine ghosts in after her high sovereign - her matriarch - as they cross the border, taking a seat aside from the others. she lingers on her feet, unwilling to sit for a moment as her gaze sweeps the assembled. and they narrow in on @Vermier, who lounges with a leg bone trapped between his limbs. a smirk crawls along her lips and she shoots her sister a darkly amused look. je pourrais vraiment les énerver. she muses, though makes no move to do so - she's not here to cause problems ( this time ). i could really piss them off. she snorts, letting her eyes flick up and down the man with a vague sort of sneer. tu peux garder ta collation cette fois. you can keep your snack this time, léo calls to him as she finally sinks to her haunches. vous êtes les bienvenus. she adds, tilting her head and shrugging one shoulder in a sort of careless gesture. you're welcome.

her eyes are caught, then, by the sight of @Etain. the youth is tucked alongside a pale, older lioness with her lips pulled back in a silent snarl. or a grimace, she can't quite tell from where she sits. her brows tighten and her own lips twitch at the corners - but she doesn't comment, doesn't taunt the angry little creature. instead, she merely leans slightly closer to her sibling, attempting to bump her shoulder to ludivine's, and gesture vaguely with her chin. someone was still angry.

Where his sisters crept with demonic confidence; @Manon's lips peeled and @Dionysïa with her piercing gaze of steel - Christien skirts the edges of the crowd with silent intent. Toxic vision would dart between family and pride, an intensity that soaked his frontal lobes with readily absorbed information - drawing in faces and words alike.

Yet magnetized is he to the sound of her violence, and the very rumble of her chords as she plunges into the chaos of normality against Amara reels the boy in; vibrant lanterns honing in upon his maman - and his body freezes with the grasp of her, a quiver of excitement emanating from his core and trembling his willowy thighs.