she did not often come so far. the bluffs kept her busy and with the progression of her pregnancy she had little desire to wander beyond the borders. today was different, for some reason, and thus the matriarch found herself much further from her home than she had come in some time, barring special events.

it was... surprisingly dull. while there were prey abound she had no true desire to hunt, her hunger satiated from the cache's in the bluffs. with a huff of irritation she sits and watches the world pass by, half hoping something more interesting might come along.

ART BY BUNNY, CODE BY LARS

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of [blood, cannibal, morbid thoughts, violence]

This land, oh this land, it enveloped her in a sense of newness and vitality that she had not felt before. The haunting memories of war, of bloodshed, of death lingered in her mind, tormenting her. But here, in this place, Miaran saw opportunity. A chance to start anew, to establish her territory and feed upon the flesh of both her kin and her prey. The thought of it made her blood boil with excitement.

Her heart raced with anticipation as she imagined the feast that awaited her. The thrill of the hunt, the primal urge to survive, it pulsed through her veins. She would make this land her own, thriving on the flesh of both her kind and her prey. The taste of blood still lingered on her tongue, a reminder of the power that coursed through her.

Precious jewel-like eyes scanned the surroundings, offering a plethora of options. As winter approached, she knew she had to prepare by gathering from those who would not survive the harsh season. With determination in her stride, she moved gracefully, her movements masked in the scent of mud as she camouflaged herself. Today was not a day for hunting, as her hunger was temporarily satisfied by the meat of an elder lion she had come across.

Unknowingly, the nameless lion's blood still stained her muzzle as she immersed herself in the muddy earth. Though she had no ties to this place, she knew that eventually, she would need to form connections. Despite the success of her visit to the Oasis, she craved for more knowledge and insight. With her eyes set in the distance, she treaded towards the rocks to sharpen her deadly talons.

With a fierce determination, she sharpened her talons on the unforgiving rocks, each scrape a testament to her strength. The muddy witch, a creature of instinct and survival, let her tail guide her as she honed her weapons. This land, this new beginning, it filled her with a sense of purpose and belonging. And with each claw mark she etched into the stone, she claimed her place in this untamed wilderness.

A feral screech, she dug her talons into the hard rock, the sound of metal against stone reverberating through the air. Each swipe of her claws etched a mark of her presence, a symbol of her power. The muddy witch let her tail guide her movements, her focus unwavering as she honed her weapons to perfection.

As she worked, the weight of her past failures and losses seemed to melt away, replaced by a fierce determination to thrive in this unfamiliar land. With each swipe of her claws, she reaffirmed her place in this world, a warrior queen ready to conquer whatever challenges lay ahead. And so she continued, a muddy witch in her element, preparing for whatever trials awaited her on this new and beguiling frontier.


@Louve ♔

Barbarian: +5 Maintain your weapons (sharpen claws or care for teeth)
Sleuth: +5 Practice disguising your appearance

unearthly screeches send some nearby prey scattering. ibis's that stood in the shallows took flight and a small herd of antelope kicked off. for a second there is beautiful chaos; louve watches it all with a distinct sense of disinterest. company had found her, it would seem, and had chosen to announce it's presence in a most disruptive way.

yellowed eyes eventually shift towards the source of the racket, blinking in an unperturbed manner when she spotted the muddied beast sharpening its claws upon a nearby stone. a female, by all appearances, though louve knew well not to judge without confirmation.

there is no introduction and for a second she considers turning back to her previous view. might have, even, if she had not been stewing in her boredom. what was more convincing, though, was the scent of blood in the air. near masked by the mud that clung to the stranger -- would have been, in fact, to a less honed nose. but louve was familiar (intimately so) with the scent of lion's blood, and found herself intrigued enough to speak up.

"are you 'urt?" was the blood hers, or another's?

@Miaran

art

Deep within the layers of thick, clinging mud, a crimson trail of blood glistened, a visceral reminder of the hunt that had taken place. Only those who shared her insatiable hunger could understand the significance of this silent message. Miaran's heart raced with anticipation as she paid no attention to the frightened cries of the frightened prey.

With every scrape of her razor-sharp claws against the unyielding rock, she sharpened her deadly weapons, the weight of her purpose heavy in the air. Amidst the chaos and panic surrounding her, her gaze remained fixed on her singular mission, a fierce and unwavering focus driving her forward.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the primal symphony, causing Miaran to halt her relentless sharpening and ground herself in the present. The stranger's words carried a hint of an unfamiliar accent, igniting a spark of curiosity within the proud lioness. With a barely perceptible raise of her brow, she turned to face the chartreux lioness, her gaze unyielding. "Non," she replied simply, thrown off by the unexpected inquiry.

As her ears flattened and her tail coiled around her leg, Miaran couldn't help but study the enigmatic newcomer before her. The scars that adorned the stranger's powerful frame spoke of battles bravely fought, while the slight deformation of her ear hinted at the trials she had endured. And yet, there was something in her scent that stirred memories of another lioness, a connection that Miaran couldn't quite place. Perhaps it was the elusive recollection of Helah, a lioness she had encountered upon her arrival, whose ambiguous status within the pride had intrigued her.

Despite the familiarity that lingered in the air, Miaran held her tongue, letting the enigmatic aura of the stranger wash over her. The echoes of past encounters danced at the edges of her mind, whispering of a complex world of pride alliances and allegiances. As she stood face to face with this fierce yet enigmatic lioness, Miaran couldn't help but sense that their destinies were intertwined in ways she had yet to grasp.


@Louve ♔
Barbarian: +5 Maintain your weapons (sharpen claws or care for teeth)

code by scorpixia♡︎

There is a strange draw that she cannot place, a pull towards this woman that makes little sense. They are similar in age and stature and yet she knows it is more than that. There is something more here that drew the matriarch closer to the stranger. Each step causes her belly to sway, heavy with the weight of growing cubs, and she wears this truth with pride. Louve makes no attempt to hide but walks with a lifted chin and a step that exudes confidence.

"Non?" A query, innocent, in a language so familiar that it makes her heart skip a beat. Distant family, perhaps? Or another one that held similar beliefs?

Identical tastes, even?

Now she is close enough there is little space between them and she is certain of the scent, keen eyes tracing the flecks of blood that lingered on her muzzle. "But 'e is," a faint flick of her paw, a gesture at the blood that had not disappeared with the mud. A grin, then, as she pressed on -- "pity you didn't share."

@Miaran

art

The stranger's words cut through Miaran like a knife, each syllable dripping with a seductive foreign lilt that sent shivers down her spine. The way she spoke of not sharing sent a jolt of excitement through the enigmatic vixen, her curiosity piqued to its breaking point. With a subtle raise of her brow, Miaran couldn't help but be drawn in further, her heart pounding in her chest as she dared to test the limits of this mysterious lioness.

"Partager? Peu apprécient la chair autant que moi, alors j'en ai apporté juste assez pour moi," she purred, her voice laden with a dangerous allure that made the air crackle with anticipation. As Miaran's gaze fell upon the pregnant belly of the lioness before her, a wave of emotions crashed over her. The thought of carrying a bastard's spawn made her skin crawl, but she couldn't ignore the power and authority that radiated from the stranger. Just like Harou at the borders of the Oasis, there was something about this lioness that drew Miaran in, sparking a curiosity that burned like a flame in her soul. The sight of the stranger before her only fueled the fire burning within Miaran, her jewel-toned gaze drinking in every detail with a mix of fascination and calculation.

As she took in the scent of the lioness, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place in Miaran's mind. There was an undeniable air of authority that the stranger exuded, much like the powerful Harou she had encountered at the Oasis. And the scent that lingered around Louve was eerily similar to that of Helah, piquing Miaran's curiosity about the lioness's role in it all. What role did this lioness play in the grand scheme of things? Could she be the key to unlocking the secrets of this place?

"Je m'appelle Miaran Jisazith. Puis-je connaître le vôtre?" Miaran's words dripped with a honeyed sweetness that masked the deadly edge lurking beneath. She could have easily switched to the common tongue, but she chose to hold back, waiting to see if her assumption was correct. The dance of power and intrigue that unfolded between them was electrifying, a dangerous game of cat and mouse that threatened to consume them both in its fiery embrace. This encounter held the promise of intrigue and mystery, and Miaran was eager to uncover the secrets that lay hidden beneath the surface.



@Louve ♔

"Partager? Peu apprécient la chair autant que moi, alors j'en ai apporté juste assez pour moi." = Share? Few enjoy flesh as much as I do, so I brought just enough for myself.

"Je m'appelle Miaran Jisazith. Puis-je connaître le vôtre?" = "My name is Miaran Jisazith. May I know yours?"

Sleuth: +5 Learn a character’s full name and rank

code by scorpixia♡︎

Relief washes over her, the sound of her family tongue akin to a breath of fresh air for the heavily pregnant matriarch. While the common language was as familiar to her as that of her birthright it did not flow so easily, nor did she find the harsh syllables as comforting as the pour of French to her ear. The smile that finds her lips is genuine, the shiver of pleasure that courses through her just as much so.

"Trop peu," she agrees, too few, "mais Wolfbron abrite plus que notre juste part." but wolfbron houses more than our fair share. Words spoken oh so carefully, a well laid trap meant to see just how interested this brilliant girl was. Louve already knew that she wanted her, but she would not dare be so forward. "Ma famille sait à quel point cette chair est douce," my family knows just how sweet that flesh is she continued, her lips curving in a grin that shows more teeth than most would find appealing.

Then -- a name. Louve battles back the crash of disappointment when it is not followed by Dieudonne, revealing nothing of the hope that had flicked briefly in her chest. "Louve Dieudonné," she gives back, "reine des falaises de Wolfbron." Queen of wolfbron bluffs.

@Miaran

art

The unexpected return of their shared native tongue left Miaran utterly speechless. The words rolled off of Louve's tongue with such grace and familiarity, it was as if they were meant to converse in this language all along. The mention of Wolfbron sparked a curiosity and excitement in Miaran's heart, knowing that there were others who shared their customs and language in this foreign land. "Wolfbron? J'en ai rencontré un avec votre parfum de fierté à mon arrivée sur ces terres. Helah, c'est comme ça qu'elle s'appelait."

Carefully choosing her words, Miaran spoke, "Il semble que ce ne soit pas un hasard si nous nous sommes rencontrés. Tous les autres avec qui j'ai parlé ne parlent pas notre langue. Parlez-m'en davantage sur ce Wolfbron." But it was the name "Dieudonne" that stopped Miaran in her tracks. A name whispered in legends and myths, now standing before her in the form of Louve, a Queen among beasts.

Could it be true that there were others like them, others who shared their desires and cravings? As she stood before Louve, Miaran couldn't help but wonder about the Queen's motives and the secrets that lay within her pride. The mystery of their meeting and the secrets that Louve held only added to the intense emotion swelling within Miaran.

The thought of others like themselves, of a community that understood their primal instincts and cravings, filled Miaran with a sense of belonging she had never known before. But to hear it spoken by the lioness before her, a Queen no less, was a revelation. It was as if fate had brought them together, two kindred spirits in a vast and unforgiving world. And as she waited for Louve's words, Miaran knew that her life would never be the same again. The bond forged through their shared language and forbidden desires sparked a connection that Miaran could not ignore. Despite Harou's warnings, Miaran longed to sink her fangs into the forbidden fruit that Louve offered.



@Louve ♔

Sleuth: +5 Learn a character’s full name and rank [Louve, Queen of Wolfbron]


[Wolfbron? J'en ai rencontré un avec votre parfum de fierté à mon arrivée sur ces terres. Helah, c'est comme ça qu'elle s'appelait. = Wolfbron? I met one with your scent of pride when I arrived in these lands. Helah, that's what she was called.]

["Il semble que ce n'est pas un hasard si nous nous sommes rencontrés. Tous les autres avec qui j'ai parlé ne parlent pas notre langue. Parlez-m'en davantage sur ce Wolfbron." = "It seems it's no coincidence that we met. Everyone else I've spoken with doesn't speak our language. Tell me more about this Wolfbron.]

code by scorpixia♡︎

For so long they had thrived only in the shadows. Her family had guarded their secret for as long as Louve could remember -- it was only recently that she had spoken their truth in to the light. In front of the entire pride she had shared their true nature, not wanting her family to have to live with secrets any longer. In their home they could be themselves, truly free, truly at ease.

Nobody should have to hide in their own home.

"Héla est mon amie," Helah is my friend she admits this easily, though the revelation surprises her somewhat, "elle est fidèle à Wolfbron depuis de nombreuses années." she has been loyal to wolfbron for many years. While those loyalties may have shifted she trusted that the woman would never turn her back on the red stone pride.

@Miaran wants to know more and Louve, too, feels as though it was a fated meeting. The odds of her coming across this rogue when she shared the language so few knew were slim -- what else could it be but fate? "Nous sommes une fierté qui valorise avant tout la force des femmes. Une femme dirige Wolfbron depuis plus d’une demi-décennie ; ma mère depuis de nombreuses années et maintenant moi-même." We are a pride that values the strength of women first and foremost. A woman has ruled Wolfbron for more than half a decade; my mother for many years and now myself. She had a feeling this would appeal to the girl who had such inspiration in her eyes.

"Nous valorisons l’ambition. Quoi que vous souhaitiez, vous devez simplement tendre la main et le prendre." We value ambition. Whatever you wish for you must only reach out and take. How many of theirs had gone on to rule, now?

art

TRIGGER WARNING !!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers.

Frequent mentions of Cannibalism, Morbid Thoughts, Blood, Violence

The serpentine vixen coiled with anticipation as Louve revealed the deep bond between herself and Helah, their sisterhood forged in the fiery trials of their pride. The mere mention of Wolfbron, where powerful lionesses reigned and ambition was revered, ignited a fire within Miaran's very soul. Her eyes, alight with a fierce determination, never wavered from the formidable figure before her – the Queen.

As Miaran gazed into the eyes of the powerful warrior before her, she felt a fire ignite within her soul. The Queen's presence was intoxicating, her very being a beacon of strength and authority. Could Miaran be a valuable addition to their ranks, an ambitious serpent ready to conquer new heights? Lost in her thoughts, Miaran pondered her fate, the choices that lay before her. The allure of power and glory beckoned to her, whispering promises of greatness beyond her wildest dreams. The legacy of the Dieudonné, the legends of the Mob, they all spoke to her soul, urging her to embrace her destiny.

The echoes of Louve's words lingered in the air, Miaran's mind raced with possibilities. The allure of the Oasis and Wolfbron beckoned to her, stirring a hunger for power she had never before known. In her homeland, it was the females who held the key to strength and dominance, while men knelt at their feet in submission. With Harou's invitation burning in her grasp, she knew that this meeting with Louve was no mere coincidence. The legends of Dieudonné whispered of truths untold over and over in her mind, and Miaran felt the weight of destiny pressing upon her.

"Auriez-vous de la place pour une autre vipère ambitieuse en votre sein?" "Would you have room for another ambitious viper in your midst?" Miaran's words carried a potent mix of eagerness and uncertainty, her heart torn between the desire to seize power and the fear of what it might cost her. The chance to rule from a throne, once a distant dream, now loomed tantalizingly close – a prize worth any sacrifice. For now, she would tread carefully, climbing the ladder of power one step at a time, savoring each victory and thirsting for more. The path ahead was fraught with danger and opportunity, but Miaran was ready to face whatever lay in her way, her spirit ablaze with a newfound purpose.

@Louve ♔

Please, father, have mercy
God has mercy, I don't

table code by scorpixia ♡︎, gradient code by daanyen, image by celeste