try hard not to care
the world won't cease to turn

the flash of a dull, reciprocated grin paints @Reti ♔ in favorable lighting, but only just. for his purpose were still to usurp and displace, and olive would sooner liken him to his triumphant, tyrannical predecessor than the worthy sovereigns lorien had found in violarum and ghyslaine. but whether or not this challenger chose to view lorien’s bloody past as an omen of reprisal-to-come, there were little in his tensed stance to suggest of harbored reservations. unease churns beneath her facade of sardonicism before giving way to a naive sense of hope. if ghyslaine fell today, would the loss of the kingdom they founded finally be enough to prompt violarum’s return? anniston’s?

the whispers of her subconscious echo with a haunting, definitive no.
— she and @Ghyslaine would stand alone, yet.

a voice – much louder, and real – draws the little queen from reconnaissance with the rove of a mirthless stare. @Dorset were easy to pinpoint (if only for his immediate unfamiliarity), and olive’s features soften to the cadence of his introduction. “olive,” she offers to the brute in return: brief, but not unkind. “hopefully this isn’t the first and last time we get to hang out, here.” but to his question, she shrugs — a lapse in knowledge that were remedied by the timely arrival of @Léonie. her presence were welcomed, enthralling, and the warmth of a familiar smirk conveys as much without need for verbal affirmation. that this would-be usurper hailed from her sort-of, maybe friends in the hollows, however, were enough to re-sour olive’s mood; and yet, she offers little insight to her underlying dismay with a ‘well-there-ya-have-it’ flash of the brow to dorset. there they had it, indeed.

ghyslaine’s final descent upon the ring finds the little queen scanning the crowd for familiar faces, touching upon the distant @Daneri, @Antoni, @Ilarion, and @Kazimir with offerings of a tentative smile (or were it a wince?). closer still, she finds a preoccupied @Faie — her cherubic features, distorted in an expression of deep-seated fear that chisels away at the helpless-to-stop mother’s heart. at last, the sprite’s gaze settles upon her sister as the fated pair preface their battle with honorifics. honorifics olive, herself, would sooner snub; but @Ghyslaine had always been twice the woman olive were, if not more. infinitely more.

with the gauntlet so thoroughly cast down upon the plains, the little queen’s breath stutters in her throat as the duo collide in shades of violence. so absorbed in the dance, were she, that she does not register the approach of an old friend before his taunting words tease the vacancy at her side. @Nero, and her lip curves with amusement at the challenge he poses. she shifts to accommodate his addition to the sidelines — considering the victim of such worst-wishes with the slant of her crown and soft hum as she settles once more.

“i hope…” she whisper-sings for him, welcoming the distraction nero provides from the overarching solemnity of looming displacement. “i hope a thousand worms finds their home in this guy’s belly if he finds his home, here.” and while her delivery were not nearly as smooth as her companion’s – their game, childish at best – olive still finds herself feeling much less antsy than before. perhaps the worms would rally to their cause, yet. she lances a goading, sidelong stare back to her mischievous accomplice: expectant.

table by ryuu!

Without initially meaning to be, she led herself right into her natural state as one who inherently gathered information. Drawn to others with her need for answers even if she did not realize that she was doing so for the potential benefit of others. It was just in her nature to glean little snippets of things from others and to begin to unfold the webbing of the many spiders of Amaryllis. A strange lion approached the one she had initially spoken to and didn't address her, which was fine and probably a good thing. Thankfully he (@Weimar) asked a very good question that she now did not have to inquire about.

Apparently, according to @Thella ♔, he was a friend of hers. While the general consensus of "normal" lions would put a giant red flag on this immediately, Daneri instead decided that she was going to play neutral ground. It was where she worked best seeing as how she had been a part of the Plains pride for over a year and yet, she still kept her pelt smelling less Plains than those that wore it like a badge of honor. With the lion's question she fell into a gentle lull of overhearing the conversation. Apparently he was High Sovereign of the Hollows for a time and while she could appreciate someone stepping up to take over when its leaders failed, the male was technically still trying to take hers.

The other lioness, @Jun, backed up the praise that he was a good man and still Daneri did not wish to pass judgement. He might be a good man to them but was he good man to the lions that he might inherit if he wins this battle? And if she couldn't shocked even further, the lion that was quite the information-spitter declared that this male had helped a lost elephant calf... here... in this territory? Daneri did everything in her power to make it seem like she wasn't eating this stuff up like candy on christmas morning. Helping an elephant calf made her think that perhaps he had been knocked on the head one too many times. They were food, not friends!

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This wasn’t the best place for this but he didn’t really care. The plum did hope the Queen could succeed in keeping her crown but he really wasn’t that attached to the pride. It had more or less just been a place for shelter. He had been told his family lived in the Hollows and perhaps after this he would finally go pay his respects and visit them. For now he couldn’t stop looking at @Karsa den after he had tried to look away. Finally he came closer to the boy before stopping about three body lengths away from him. "Boy why do you look so familiar, but your face doesn’t match any memories?" He asked. His face stoic and perhaps he hadn’t been very friendly with his words, but he wasn’t in an attacking pose. Instead he stood facing him waiting for an answer. "Who are you?"

code by corvus & art by moogle

Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and a desire to win pushed her onwards- demanding that she would give her all. She had no choice but to defend their home with all she was and all she had. Ghyslaine needed to win this, she knew that. She needed to prove that though she was small, she was able to contend with these larger males- that she could win. All of her times of practice had led to this. This had all led to this moment.

When Reti's jaw releases, there is a bit of freedom she finds in the tension released on her cheek. She nearly sighs with relief, and respects his respect in the fight - that he did not blindly seek to maim her. He shifts, coming to face the broad of left side, and her teeth do not find purchase- her claws however score his face again, and she relishes that moment, though she is glad not have damaged his eye.

Ghyslaine aims to utilize her smaller size and dodging potential, and as Reti moves, and as soon as her paws touch the earth, she aims to pivot on her hips to face him, and aims to duck downwards- jaws snapping for his right paw, aiming to get ahold of it in a fierce bite- and so the bite that had aimed for the side of her neck would have the scruff of her neck to get ahold of- but she aimed to sink her teeth so fiercely into his paw or ankle that perhaps- he would think twice about what grip he sought of her neck and scruff.

Ghyslaine vs @Reti ♔
For Lorien Plains
3/5
hits:

Rolling 4d20: 17 + 8 + 9 + 6

dodge:

Rolling 9d20: 20 + 15 + 10 + 12 + 11 + 8 + 13 + 7 + 2

luck:

Rolling 7d20: 18 + 16 + 1 + 9 + 12 + 4 + 7

notes: ** Pride Tier 4 doubles the bonus of the master trade, in this case +1 dodge for Paladin. (LP is Tier 5)

** +1 for lead scout -- @Elodie being present.

As always my DM's are open for any clarification! <3

ART COPYRIGHT KIM / CODE COPYRIGHT ANALESE

"Ghyslaine is your mother?" @Elodie is still standing near him, her quiet presence calm and steady in the sudden confusion he feels.

"Yeah," he confirms softly, still frowning, still confused. "She - yeah." Does that make him a prince? That thought is… uncomfortable, but not enough for Penn to hope his mother loses this fight. This is their home, even if he never really took to the whole pride-life thing well. His family is here.

"Peregrine?!"

Speaking of family -

He isn’t surprised to hear his name shouted in half anger. Penn turns to find one of his sisters stalking toward him - only to stop dead when she sees @Sage. Peregrine doesn’t say anything. If Sage wanted to explain, that was up to him.

Just to confirm @Maeve's statement, his mother does arrive - and accepts the challenge. It starts quickly, and Peregrine’s eyes are glued to the combat, almost forgetting everything else entirely.

"We were - living like we used to." He murmurs, silver eyes flicking to Maeve to see if she’d understand. The way it used to be, with their parents and siblings, nomadic and simple and happy. But unlike Peregrine, Maeve seems to be enjoying pride life. Maybe she wouldn’t understand. "Took a bit of a tour."

Peregrine sits suddenly, heavily, as if there’s a great weight thrust upon his young shoulders. "Dee, come an’ sit with me." He wants to sulk about it all, and he can’t do that without an audience moral support.

table by ferus, art by cala

Daedric was eager to explore all of Amaryllis, a feat that was difficult considering the many borders that marked pride territories. Sure, he could brave a casual walk across lands owned with the excuse of wanting to see them, but most prides would not welcome such a thing, regardless of intent. Fortunately, pride challenges provided some opportunity to look a little closer at a pride. While Lorien seemed peaceful and beautiful enough, it seemed a difficult territory to defend with such easy access from so many directions.

Daedric would arrive, sitting at a distance from the group and watching the fight. He took interest in the difference of size, gender and weight of the opponents. His father had always warned him not to underestimate a lion that was smaller than you, thus this provided an opportunity to learn. He would see how she attacked and countered, noting a fast movement and a snap at the lions feet. He would have to remember to stay light on his toes whenever he encountered a smaller opponent.

As he watched the goings on, he would absently chew on a fresh cut twig, cleaning his teeth after an earlier lunch. His father had always told him to keep his claws and teeth in pristine condition, that they would prove valuable tools later on in life. Also, white teeth just looked more appealing than yellow ones.. that was the vanity talking.

BARBARIAN EXP
+5 Observe a fight
+5 Learn a new fighting move
+5 Maintain your weapons

You think I’m gonna play your game

I’ll never let you get your way

code: corvus || art: rabbit

As Reti moved, so did she. And should his mouth not already have been occupied Reti would have laughed, it was almost as if they were litterallly dancing.

Although the initial target of his bite attempt was missed, Reti attempted secure his jaws on her nape and yank upwards and sharply to his left.

As her head ducked and moved twards his leg Reti refexivly responded to the threatening movement towards his front right limb by aiming to yank his right forleg backwards while attempting to take a half step backwards with his hind legs. Attempting to swiftly slide his right front the paw swiftly backwards across the grass and dirt.

While his foreleg leg was not grasped - his movement was not far or fast enough to prevent noteable damage. Deep, painful gashes were sliced through his fur and into the muscle across the front of his right foreleg just above the 'wrist'.

After adrenaline faded later...that one would hurt like a bitch when the lion walked for a while. And heal into a fun scar moment of the battle. One he would smile about for months going forward.

He was starting to feel it now, the first strands of strain. Battle was beginning to take a tole on breath and energy levels - although not enough just yet to significantly slow the warrior Reti was reminded the contest could not last forever.

-------
Reti vs. @Ghyslaine
Pride Challenge
Round 4/ 5
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 11 + 4 + 9 + 10 + 18 + 17 + 2 + 13

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 13 + 18 + 5 + 2 + 17

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 17 + 2 + 16 + 11 + 14

code by corvus

Ghyslaine's arrival came with a graceful formality; Thella could help but hold the utmost respect for the now High Sovereign of the Plains. She was in awe of the woman and it only added to the internal struggle of who she hoped would come out victorious. There was some polite—but still tense—back and forth between challenger and challenged, but it ultimately gave way to the commencement of battle.

Soon after it begins, out of the corner of her eye, a flash of lilac. She turns to see the not-so-little-anymore cub, @Sorin nearby. Her only encounter with the Savante girl had been upon her return back from the burnt forest and she couldn't shake the negative feelings she had surrounding her; not her fault of course, and Thella felt bad for how she felt, but maybe it warranted some more time with her to erase those feelings and make way for new.

The man said something so off-beat then, that it must have been untrue—Reti was hanging out with an elephant calf? But, we eat elephants. She couldn't wrap her head around it and looked at the other two women to make sure she heard correctly, before nodding along as if that was the most normal thing in the world. "That is quite the story."

@Weimar @Jun @Daneri

art by moogle, code by lars

BLOOD WE DRUNK, FLESH WE ATE

It is the scent of rust on the wind that summoned her here to these unfoldings of flesh, sorrow and spite – the sound of a battle stretched across the flatplains, an always promise of scraps if not mouthfuls. Beneath the summer daze of a blissless dusk she crept along the swaying high grasses to the fringe of savannah, silhouettes of onlookers materializing among the ridge of grain-heads in slight, sullen movements and probing twitches of quiet conversations. Painted by the citrus and lavender of the waning horizon, Violante kept low and out of the inquisitive eye of strangers, as too many there were in this fresh new place.

Vexing enough to her, too few of them were engaged in their own scuffles, the dialogue among them so oddly pleasant and peaceful while the battle at the center of their gathering continued, the only prime entertainment. The jackal watched as skins sheared and teeth cleaved, her mouth rushed with salivating delight. Death? Defiance? Revenge? Advancement? Conquest? Too little is left in the ambiguous way context falls through the crags of quiet, the lack of energy in the crowd untelling. She clicked her teeth, unsatisfied with the distance she kept, and rolled in the sun-drenched soils of the Plains before sneaking closer to the border where the many remained.

From there she crept along the rim of their assembly, an ear flicked toward their passing tête-à-têtes. But without breathing down their necks or consuming the doldrums of smalltalk, there is little substance to be found. Reti, says one shadow at the border, but in the way she speaks of an alliance it is unclear whether that is the name of this province or an otherwise audience until she mentions another, Ghyslaine and neutral plains. Violante was loathe to assume the proprietor of these factors for the risk of being mistaken, though her eyes snapped through the veil of golden grasses for the competitors within the ring.

Her mother had never told her a word of any plains other than the fields that were made useful for hunting and gathering, yet the pungent markers of a pride were rather apparent. Without any true allies (for what were friends, to her?) she would be wise to avoid the audacity of trespassing. Too often had she encountered the boldness of those who assumed everything belonged to them in the wilds that stretched between her childhood kingdom and this spat of land and she would not be found foolish enough to tempt the arrogance of overwhelming odds.

Violante hid among the thick fronds of the veld just along the markers, remaining vigilant for valuable gossip and wandering scouts.

+10 Remain undetected in a large thread (5+ characters)
+10 Learn something about pride/group/family relations
+5 Practice hiding your scent

THAT WAS A CORE OF THE INNOCENT HATE _{BG — ART — CODE}

"That is quite the story." Was all that @Thella ♔ seemed to be able to say in reference to the information regarding their challenger. Daneri had half a mind to ask but is it just a story or is it real? A lot of stories ended up being false or words twisted from what their true nature had been and as she looked to the lot that surrounded her, she did not have a hard time believing that this fellow might be as weird as they were saying. So instead of departing from the group like she wanted to, Daneri stayed put in an effort to subtlety keep an eye on them. The last thing she wanted was to depart and them think it wise to go further into the territory. For now, this was still her home and her leader still led...

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