Whereas autumn was still creeping into the mainland, its arrival was already apparent closer to the coast. The air was crisp, lively, humming past her ears and carrying with it the gentle rumble of the tide. It was a bit humid, but the slight chill helped to thin the thick, salty air and make it easier to breathe. To analyze. To pick out the presence of others.

Avreya would have been lying if she claimed she did not enjoy long walks on the beach--of course, depending on the context--but there was something about today's stroll that just felt too serene to ignore. Perhaps it was that she was entering unknown territory and leaving behind what she once knew. Or maybe it was the sound of the ocean after all, the white noise drowning out other songs of nature that might have otherwise broken the monotony and made her feel less...alone. Because somewhere in her gut, she did not exactly feel alone, though whether she should lean into it or flee from it she had yet to determine.
"SPEECH."

code by scorpixia♡︎

Nazara has never done this before, but the princess finds she needs to find a way to pull her weight in the pride. She had heard of the passage, and knew it was a place of recruitment. The X'uekaj considered it a learning opportunity, fully expecting others would come to pluck the ripe fruit, or fight over it.

Today, however, it would seem luck had favored the little shadow. None had come to take this person, not yet, and so she slithers up with an apathetic mask: a mirror to her mother's own prowess. If she could convince this person to join the Broom, perhaps some of the ire between her and her Queen Mother would be diminished.

Make-shift medicinal pack is strung across her thin, slender shoulders. A necklace of carved bones sits tightly against her neck. All she was missing was a crown.

The stranger appeared female, unique in that she possessed twin tails, and dark coloration. Nazara moves close, but not too close, giving @Avreya enough space to not pose a threat (not that she would, the woman was bigger and stronger).

"Hello" she says, softly like the silk of a spider "If you are looking for a home, I may have one to offer"

I could burn your motherfuckin’ village to the ground—

I could crack your skull between these motherfuckin’ thighs—I could doom your lineage with one look from these eyes! I could name the date in which they’ll put you in the ground—you’re the one who said its justice watchin’ witches drown!

code by corvus art by Drifty

Few travelers who lingered at the island's gates would be left truly alone for long. @Avreya's fate would be no different.

Today's journey to the passage proved to be a pleasant enough stroll indeed, the oppressive heat of summer finally giving way to crisp air beneath clear skies. Pleasant enough that Mircea might even have refrained from calling the effort a waste of time, should he have arrived to find the place entirely empty save for the sand and the waves. But as luck would have it, the passage isn't empty at all, and the colossal beast is no less pleased for it.

He is not the first to approach the violet-hued woman, which is hardly a surprise. Rarely does Mircea rush for anything, after all. He casts a vaguely appraising glance over the young girl who'd been quick to extend an invitation to the rogue woman, finding her inky form entirely unfamiliar though the rich scent of the Brook plucks at a cord of recognition in his mind. He nods to @Nazara politely, before turning his attention fully to the woman before them, his features impassive.

"Mircea Savante, Noble of Obsidian Hollow." He introduces himself with little fanfare, his voice a deep rumble in his throat. "I bear a similar offer - if you wish to hear it."

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Not long after her first pang of suspicion did her company reveal itself. Though she carried herself differently, the stranger was of almost identical stature to Avreya, save for a couple inches and pounds of muscle. It was uncanny, really--as if she was peering into the emptiness of her own silhouette. Except for her adornments, of course. Stark white bones were strung about the black fur of her neck, but a crude carrying pack took away from the regality they added to her presentation. What was she hiding in there? she wondered.

When @Nazara finally spoke, Avreya found her tone curious. Soft, sweet...without much room for a lapse of composure.

However, before she could probe her about her offer, they were joined by another. This stranger dwarfed them both, such that as he closed the distance, Avreya wondered uneasily how she could have missed him before. Had she really been so unobservant? Just how many were still lurking in wait for her--or stragglers like her? Fortunately, @Mircea was as polite as the first solicitor, albeit with a different kind of flair--and the added touch of matching his face to a name.

Avreya tipped her skull to both of them but otherwise maintained an even expression. "Avreya Lilovyy," she conceded, deciding it could do no harm to return the gesture of a proper introduction. Interestingly, despite being outnumbered, it seemed she somehow had the advantage here...in the form of choice. "I find it curious you each have a pitch prepared for me. I'd like to hear them." Even if she did not act on their pleas, perhaps their insight would help her further navigate this new terrain.
"SPEECH."

code by scorpixia♡︎

Nazara gives a slight sneer towards @Mircea, but it is a simple flash before her composure returns. Best to keep a level head, this man was far.larger and more experienced than herself.

"Nazara X'uekai, princess of Vermeda Brook." she offers to @Avreya once both parties have been revealed. She takes a poised seat, head held high but not arrogantly so--the princess is regal as black satin, doing her best to remember how her Mother's composure was ironclad. "I offer you a place in my Mother's Kingdom: if you believe you are strong enough to pull your own weight. The Brook does not tolerate weakness. Work hard and prove your worth, you will be rewarded."

Her black eyes fall back to the Hollows male, curiously wondering what exactly he would have to offer, before continuing "The choice is yours." it was a time that Nazara wished she was older, or even, bigger than she had been. Tales of her mother stealing people from the passage, forcing them to be part of their family were all too glorious. But as it stands, she was not blessed with a warrior's body. She simply waits, then, to hear the pitch of the other male--maybe she could gain some information from him concerning the Savante.

I could burn your motherfuckin’ village to the ground—

I could crack your skull between these motherfuckin’ thighs—I could doom your lineage with one look from these eyes! I could name the date in which they’ll put you in the ground—you’re the one who said its justice watchin’ witches drown!

code by corvus art by Drifty

The shadowed yearling carries herself like royalty indeed, with all the stilted formality one might expect paired with a voice spun from velvet. But for just a single moment, Mircea thinks that he sees the veil part, catching a fleeting hint of something blacker than her fur - and then it is gone, so quickly that he might've imagined it.

It's duly noted, just the same.

The dappled beast inclined his head politely towards the stranger who so kindly offered them her name @Avreya. Another unfamiliar moniker hinting of foreign lands he'd never heard of. He keeps silent while @Nazara weaves her offer into existence, taking careful note of her words though his expression remains unchanged. The Brook's 'values' seemed clear enough to a jaded warrior such as himself. Both spoken and unspoken.

He suspects he'd best choose his own words carefully, lest their differences be mistaken for weakness.

Mother, he hated politics.

"The Hollow is built on the strength of our community. My kin have ruled there for many seasons, and we've work tirelessly to maintain a place where we can live and thrive in peace." Peace. The word rolls meaningfully off his tongue, braced by an undercurrent of steel. Those who threatened to shatter all the Savante had worked to build were never 'entertained' for long. "We respect people of all skills and talents - warriors, healers, hunters...So long as those skills are put to good use. We look after each other, rather than just ourselves." He's not so certain that the Vermedan princess can say the same, when the guidelines on what the Brook will tolerate seem so...subjective.

But it is Avreya's thoughts that matter here, more than his own. He cannot presume to make a choice for a woman he doesn't even know.

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“Alternatively, there’s always the Band,” announced a voice and following it was the smiling Léonie Miroslav, her charcoal paws carrying her toward the little group that had gathered there on the beach. She recognized @Mircea — how could she forget such a handsome face? — but the shadowy yearling was unfamiliar. The former spoke of respect and peace, while the latter tried to bribe the rogue with a reward for her strength. Léonie wondered if either would appeal to her, or if she might be interested in something else entirely. “Léonie Miroslav, Matriarch of the Scorched Gorge,” the dark imp introduced herself. “We’re not exactly a traditional bunch like Vermeda and Obsidian. We live outside of the norm, not as a pride but as a clan. It gives us more stability,” she offered. “Too often, wanna-be sovereigns tend to march on the more ancient territories and kick out families that have ruled for years. We’re not likely to have that problem,” the Matriarch continued with confidence in her voice. Where prides would rise and fall, the clan would prevail.

Humming, she continued, “Strength, peace, stability. You’ve got options. Or is there something else you’re looking for here in Amaryllis?”

@Nazara @Avreya

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Whether or not Avreya would agree to either of these strangers' offers remained to be seen. She was not necessarily keen on making a name for herself, nor did she desire anybody's favor. Truth be told, the last thing she expected was to be approached by anyone, let alone by two lions of apparently different allegiances vying for another body to add to their ranks. At the very least, she supposed it was a good sign that they were not making demands of her, as this encounter would be going very differently if that were the case. Hopefully things remained cordial from here. If nothing else, they could all walk away from here a little wiser.

The first to address her was also the first to indulge her. @Nazara claimed there were spoils awaiting those who proved their worth under her mother's crown, though the contents of those spoils she neglected to disclose. Was it recognition? Praise? Protection? All in exchange for what, her undying loyalty and assistance in maintaining their reputation? Avreya felt no need to prove anything to a woman she had not yet met. In fact, the thought almost roused feelings of defiance. Realizing she might not last under such rule, at least without causing some trouble, she mused at herself and offered the dark female a nod of understanding and thanks.

@Mircea took his turn, then, and Avreya turned the spotlight onto him, pinning eyes and ears on the male. She had to give it to him: from his imposing stature to his baritone voice, his presence commanded attention, and yet his fluid movements and almost soft composure offered both reassurance and familiarity even as a stranger. He was a perfect ambassador. If peace was what his kin preached, then she did not doubt their ability to maintain it. Yet, as with the lioness, he also spoke of expectations she was unsure she could fulfill for a powerful family to whom she had no connection.

A shame, as perhaps either one of these was a chance to shield and strengthen herself among some valuable names. Yet, she did not wish to carry such weight on her shoulders. If these families were so great, then the consequences of becoming entangled with them would be even greater. The larger they are, the harder they fall.

It was at that moment that a fourth lion entered their circle with merely a declaration of her own offer: "the Band." Avreya blinked and looked to @Léonie now as she fell right into an introduction and an explanation of her ranks. Unlike the first two, hers was not a kingdom but a group tied to each other instead of to an ancient or valuable stretch of territory. And instead of souring her invitation with obligations or a foreboding undertone, she sweetened it with freedom from all the formalities and concerns that came with a formal kingdom. As much as she hated to admit it, Avreya could see herself thriving among them.

"Are you in need of brains or brawn?" she asked with a flick of her forked tail, a casual extension of her willingness to see what the Band was all about. She could offer herself as muscle or, with a little more time spent in Amaryllis, as a navigator.
"SPEECH."

code by scorpixia♡︎

The girl took a breath and let out some sort of sigh. Well, her first jaunt into the passage did not go well--and though she felt the bitterness form on her tongue with the thought of harsh words to accompany them--Nazara keeps herself in check, for now.

Her gaze turns towards @Mircea, giving a slight dip of her head almost as a condolence "Seems we have been outplayed this match" she mutters to him, quietly before turning her attention back to @Leonie and @Avreya --

"Do not let this imps words sweeten your ear. The bands are likely no more different than a pride. In time, they will likely rise and fall just as well." she assumes of course, Nazara has never really studied the formation of rogue bands. But they could not be all too different as the woman claims they are. right? "Peace is only a temporary victory here. There is only death in the game we all take part in"

honorable, finite, and earned. The great equalizer.

"When you decide to stop playing in the dirt, The Brook is in the north. You can find the borders easily enough"
.

I could burn your motherfuckin’ village to the ground—

I could crack your skull between these motherfuckin’ thighs—I could doom your lineage with one look from these eyes! I could name the date in which they’ll put you in the ground—you’re the one who said its justice watchin’ witches drown!

code by corvus art by Drifty

The Miroslav lioness watched their shared interest, curious to see which moved her the most: the promise of power, on the condition that she proved useful; the reassurance of relative peace and sanctuary during hardship; or the allure of independence. Ultimately, the rogue turned to her with a question, to which Léonie smiled a little wider.

“A bit of both,” she answered her. “Brawn’s nice, but if someone’s going to be throwing it around, they better have the brains to know when. No use in strength without sense.”

Her spotted ear flicked as the yearling spoke, and what she heard caused her to snicker sharply. “Wow, that was the most explicit ‘Fuck you’ I’ve heard without someone specifically saying ‘fuck you’,’” the Matriarch snorted. The princess had revealed her true nature, and that of the Brook: bitter, and quick to turn away from those who were no longer considered worthwhile.

Léonie, maintaining her smile, turned her attention back to the rogue, to at last ask, “What’s your name?”

@Mircea @Nazara @Avreya

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