and if we can't find where we belong/we'll have to make it on our own/face all the pain and take it on
because the only hope for me is you alone


The sun hangs lazily overhead and Nyaxia, as accustomed to the heat as she is, cannot see herself surviving much longer in her current state. Perhaps she's being a bit dramatic, but the lioness has botched a hunt and found herself with a rather unfortunate gash across her left shoulder. The kudu she had gone after proved to be much healthier than it had let on, leaving her feeling quite foolish and wholly deserving of the wound she now sported. She was regaining her breath from the encounter while resting in the grasses, panting heavily. Nyaxia knew she would need to find medical attention sooner rather than later, but she had to make sure she wouldn't pass out along the way. The lioness groans in frustration and pushes herself up onto her paws, beginning the journey back to the jungle with a noticeable limp. Fucking hell.

artwork by ryuu

i'll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor
— your morgue and final resting

he doesn't stray very far from @Nyaxia. the beast would lurk around, attempting to keep the wild woman within his line of vision. he would follow her for weeks, spending time alone with her and sealing their union with affection and intimacy. eventually, she would have snuck away, and he would feel the empty space beside him once more, the rush of cool air as morning would come. grumbling softly, harou would try and bring her body closer to him, but she is not there beside him, his paw sweeping down upon the empty earth where only her shadowed imprint would lay. where is she?

the titan wakes up, gives a light stretch, then begins to search for the huntress. the sun would blaze ahead of him, bright and magnetic, illuminating rays that would descend across the valley. his smouldering red eyes would scan the scene ahead of him, before the fragrance of her, the fragrance of blood, would enter his nostrils. worried, now, the army's wolf makes to pace quickly, his steps becoming a light jog as he desperately searches. was she introuble? hurt?

eventually, he finds her, laying down upon the ground. the scent of blood becomes stronger as he approaches and his brow would crease in deep worry. "nyaxia," breathes harou softly, as he comes upon her, rubbing his head gently across her head. then, he sees it, the deep wound, and his worry only grows tenfold. he would seek to gently clean her wound, letting his tongue rasp over the traces of blood, whispering in-between his licks;

"what happened?"

and if we can't find where we belong/we'll have to make it on our own/face all the pain and take it on
because the only hope for me is you alone


Despite knowing her shadow was never too terribly far away, Nyaxia finds herself surprised to see the hulking figure lumbering towards her. She has no idea how long he has been on her trail, but it's evident by the sleepy look in his eyes that he hasn't been awake for too long. The lioness is pleased he's managed to sleep as long as he has been lately, chalking it up to being thoroughly exhausted from their extracurricular activities on top of running a pride. The idea of leadership and power has never appealed to her and now, more than ever, she sees just how much of a burden it is to be shackled with. Part of her wonders if Harou regrets any of it, but she keeps those questions safely stored away for another time.

He's upon her before she even has time to blink, greeting her with the affection she has grown to appreciate and expect from him. It is a far cry from their exhausting battle on the mountainside. Now everything comes easily, naturally. Nyaxia greets him with a soft purr, bumping her head against his and almost forgetting about her wound until he points it out. “Oh, well,” she begins, lips pressed into a thin line. “I was trying to surprise you with breakfast, but, ah, the breakfast had other ideas.” Nyaxia sighs, letting her eyes drift out onto the herd. Bloody bastards. “It's alright, it's not that bad.” She makes a show of moving it with minimal flinching despite the flicker of pain across her face. Still, she appreciates him caring enough to help clean her up.

“How long can you stay away from Andal before everyone gets suspicious?” she asks, brow arched inquisitively.

artwork by ryuu

i'll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor
— your morgue and final resting

the titan is drawn to her like a moth to a flame. nyaxia has opened his heart and allowed the light to touch him. their battle upon the mountainside would only be the breaking point, fracturing the icy walls surrounding his heart and replacing them with flames of desire, flames of love. in the end, their war would only bring them closer; emotionally, intimately, soulfully. for nyaxia, he would only hold love and intense adoration. as she stood here now with the fresh, visceral wound down her body, something tight squeezes at the muscles of his chest. he is deeply concerned, and he wishes in this moment he knew the right knowledge to patch her up.

"a sweet gesture, but you don't have to do that for me, ever. let me take care of you." he puts an emphasis on 'you', because he is adamant on protecting her and caring for her - for the rest of his life. besides, he's an excellent hunter, with many hunts under his belt.

"we need a proper medic to see to this, but i can give it a try." he has seen the medics work, and he has a vague idea of the poultices they use. after cleaning her wound with his tongue, he would seek to move away from her, but only temporarily. the beast would scan the perimeter looking for any plants that might stave off her infection. finally, he spots an aloe vera plant and he would work swiftly to tear a piece of the meaty plant away. returning by her side, he would crouch down to her level and begin applying the cool substance. he would use his tongue to clean her wound free at first, licking away all the bits of debris. then, carefully, he would take the piece of aloe vera, slice it in half, and gently place it on top of her gaping wound like a thick strip of bandaid.

"this should ease you a bit, at the very least, keep it free of infection until we see a proper medic. are you good to walk?" his red eyes would move across her face, then, noting the expression of pain that she tries to hide, but harou is too observant - and he notices it, almost immediately. "right. get on my back." it's not a suggestion either, it's almost a demand, as he would lower his forelimbs down to the earth. her next set of words would clouden his mood a little, but he tries not to think of anything but the here and now. what's important, is her.

"i will deal with that later, when we get home. get on."

and if we can't find where we belong/we'll have to make it on our own/face all the pain and take it on
because the only hope for me is you alone


Nyaxia sucks in a sharp breath as he chides her, proclaiming with pristine subtlety that he should be the one to dote upon her. The lioness should want to hide the look of dull disdain that flashes across her face, but she feels wholly confident he will not take her look as anything more than a fleeting huff. “I will not stand by and grow fat and lazy while you're off doing everything. This is a partnership, not an ownership. You needn't take care of me like I am a cub.” And then she glances down at her butchered shoulder. “Except for right now. Right now, I'll allow it.” But if Harou thought he would be able to tame Nyaxia's spirit like he had her heart, he would be sorely mistaken.

“Well look at you,” she hums appreciatively as he returns to concoct whatever sort of bandage he is. Nyaxia knows basic care, but a wound quite so large is beyond her capabilities. Her eyes trace over his work as he strips the aloe vera, maneuvering confidently with the herb enough to assume it isn't his first time. “Is there anything you're not good at?” the lioness huffs, flustered by his expertise in nearly everything. Yeah, well. Good for him.

The best thing she knows her prince is offering his hand to mount the royal steed.. except the prince is also the royal steed in this instance. Nyaxia grumbles something about not needing a man to walk back to the pride, but she's not going to pass up the opportunity to get some help. “You don't breathe a word of this to anyone, got it?” she says, clearly stuffing down her pride to accept his offer. He lowers himself as she hops aboard as gracefully as if she were climbing a tree, except this one she is allowing herself to drape over comfortably. She dangles her front paws around his neck and rests her cheek against his mane, breathing him in. “Giddy-up, I think they say.” Nya laughs softly whether or not he finds it equally amusing.

If he's going to carry her, she's going to make sure he regrets it. The peanut gallery has come to stay.

artwork by ryuu

Despite her penchant for adventure, Elara found herself drawn back to the tranquil fields, choosing the solitude of tall grass and wildflowers over the cacophony of flamingos by the waterhole. Opting for a quieter morning, she ventured to the waterhole for a refreshing drink. However, as she quenched her thirst, a metallic scent sliced through the serene ambiance, capturing her attention. With a slight tilt of her head, marked by a moment of contemplation, she felt compelled to follow the intriguing aroma.

Her stride was brisk, the faint scent growing stronger and more distinct with each step. It was a familiar scent, reminiscent of the jungle—could it be @Nyaxia? This thought hastened her pace even further until she came upon two familiar figures. The sight of Nyaxia, perched somewhat precariously atop @Harou's broad back, instantly heightened her concern. "Oh, Nyaxia! Are you alright?" Elara squawked, her voice sharp with alarm as she approached. Her ears pressed tightly against her crown, her body language broadcasting her anxiety. She cast a quick, acknowledging glance at the dark man as a greeting, though her focus remained intently on her injured friend. The visible gash on Nyaxia's shoulder only deepened her concern, prompting her to step closer.

everything is better in california

code by loki

i'll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor
— your morgue and final resting

"nobody said anything about ownership. but, i will try to be your prince charming from here on." the wolf would flash her an almost playful wink, a devilish grin curling his rugged features. he cannot help but find himself constantly melting in nyaxia's presence. she is warm like the sun, smoothing down his skin with her radiant light. while he would never see her as a possession, there is a part of him that wants to reach forward and wrap his arms around her soul for the rest of eternity.

"i'm a fast learner, i like to think." his grin only deepens, that boyish edge still curving his lips. their exchange of banter would be full of sarcasm and playful wit, teased slowly through his rugged, masculine vocals. @Nyaxia is stunning in her delivery, as always, forcing harou to keep on his toes. with the huntress, he never knows what to expect next. perhaps, this is the spontaneousness he craves, finds absolutely irresistible in her. she has a mind that he is in love with, too. brilliant and sharp.

as she climbs upon his muscled back, he would hum softly, feeling her small body clamber atop his much larger frame. her paws would drape around his neck and he would walk forward, taking an easy stride into the sunlight, feeling her curves descend across his spine. it feels nice, having her skin so close next to his skin, pressing with her delicate shape as she forms to him like a lithe shadow. "my lips are sealed." he makes that promise with another hum, walking towards the direction of the desert, obeying her 'giddy up' command.

as they walk together for awhile, another form suddenly comes to view.

it is @Elara's fragrance that enters his nostrils, and harou would pause quietly, both his ears cupped forward to hear the medic's words as she comes to materialise before them. indeed, nyaxia was injured. harou would lock gazes with the tan-hued woman, the concern returning to his tone of voice. luck was shining on them today.

"she's badly injured. can you help her?"

and if we can't find where we belong/we'll have to make it on our own/face all the pain and take it on
because the only hope for me is you alone


“Oh, please,” she huffs with a thin curl of her lips. “You want to own every single piece of this body and you know it.” Nyaxia is not ideal with flirting, but she does give it a try every so often. It never seemed to be particularly necessary, though, because Harou always seemed to be as eager and willing as the day they'd duked it out on the mountaintop. She appreciates it. It makes her feel beautiful, even when that was never a term she had used to describe herself before. Feral, yes. Beautiful, no. But she certainly feels beautiful with Harou, and in the end she supposes that's all that matters.

Nyaxia hangs around him like a leopard print necklace, humming in amusement as he titles himself a quick learner. That's one word for it, she supposes, although Nyaxia might venture so far to say the man is naturally skilled in everything. One of those sorts to be so effortlessly perfect at everything that nothing is even enjoyable anymore. After all, what is left when there is nothing to achieve? Harou doesn't seem to feel that way and she is envious of it because a bored Nyaxia is one that will wreck havoc and start fights simply for the thrill of being tested. She didn't excel at everything and hardly excelled at one thing.

Her ears perk up at the sight of a familiar woman in the distance. Nyaxia grins before she even has time to fully process Elara is approaching and is about to throw herself down from her steed to greet her when Harou interrupts with common sense. Ah, right. Her shoulder. “Hi Ellie!” she chirps nonetheless, remaining situated on Harou's back lest he scold her for being too rambunctious in her greeting of the medic. “I'm alright, just.. you know, bleeding a lot.” Nyaxia clears her throat awkwardly. “I don't suppose you could patch me up a little bit? I'll give you a delicious meal in exchange once I'm healed up. You pick, I hunt.” It seems like a solid trade, hm?

artwork by ryuu

Her high spirits seemed a good sign, but Elara's own excitement waned upon seeing @Nyaxia's condition, her darkened ears dropping slightly. As @Harou expressed his concerns, Nyaxia responded with a light joke, eliciting a small, concerned smile from her. She turned back to Harou as he asked for her assistance, nodding and chirping warmly, "Of course, I’d be happy to help." As Nyaxia mentioned repaying her, the sun-kissed lioness shook her head gently, "Getting better is all the payment I need."

Approaching for a closer look, she noticed the aloe vera already applied to the wound. "Oh, you already have some vera on you," she remarked with a hint of pleasant surprise, glad to see that initial steps to protect the wound had been taken. "Though I wish I had some honeycomb with me..." she mused aloud, more to herself than anyone else. Dipping into her pouch, she pulled out some gnetum. "Here, chew on this for now," she offered, extending it to the injured lioness to help ease her pain.

Turning to Harou, she handed him some moss and gently asked, "Would you be willing to help by getting some water? You could also stay and apply pressure to the wound if you'd prefer." It was crucial for the spotted woman to stay hydrated, and stopping the bleeding was a priority. An extra set of paws would indeed expedite the care.

+10 Heal a character’s sickness or injury

everything is better in california

code by loki

i'll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor
— your morgue and final resting

he would stand steadily, allowing the huntress to slip down his frame when she is ready. despite his outward confidence, this all feels new to him - love, friendship, hope, everything soft and sweet. it's all new to him, and he barely understands it.

he acts in a calm manner, regardless, @Nyaxia being his grounding focus. she would tether him to the mortal world, anchoring his heart with her love and adoration. in this, harou is completely dedicated, his attentions honed in upon her and her alone.

turning towards @Elara, harou would breathe in a soft sigh of relief. a proper medic, good. he would nod patiently before replying gruffly, "i'll get the water." he would not stand around and hover over them, he would make himself be useful. so off he goes, searching for a nearby water source, a swift blur of shadow and merle across the grassy terrain.

harou goes to look for water.