The call came for support. Moradin knows it well and there is no hesitation in the moment following. He answers, he comes with the army of Obsidian into this beach side pride. Sand below his feet, sun on his back. It's almost like Caladan- for a few brief moments he can imagine back to the time he and the others called the Cove their home. It's hard to tell what truly took him out of this moment of pleasurable nostalgia- the recollection that he was without Ana or the immense smell of blood that hit him like a wall.

He's stopped dead in his tracks the same as his mind is forced to earth and reality- suddenly and harshly. The scene around them is utter chaos and quickly Moradin loses track of most of the other Obsidian lions. All save for Thella, whom he begins to follow in hopes that he can find a suitable target to go after, or that she might send him after one as was his job.

The longer he looked however he realized he did see some opportune targets. Or rather, familiar looking lions- one big white one in particular, and the scent of Ecrosia, that all gave him an idea. "These... these are the Mire lions." He says to @Thella ♔. He couldn't say for sure if this was all of them, and certainly the mass of lions here today weren't all from the Mire. But there's enough. Or so he hopes. His body begins to turn back away from Scilla. "I'm going for Ana." It's the best window he'll ever have even if there are a few lions left behind at Ecrosia to deal with the opportunists like Moradin. He's not even waited for a response from Thella before he abandons the scene of the war to head out east towards the Mire.

/ attempted exit

code by corvus | art by max

"Tai."

Surprised embarrassment shifted to bewildered confusion as the very name on her mind spilled from his foreign lips.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you. Are you hurt?"

Clove faltered in a moment of rare silence. He was all things strange, unknown, his allegiances anonymous at best and quite feasibly traitorous. Oh, but he knew her father! Conflict shone in her olive stare as her jaws parted as if to speak much sooner than any words fell from her lips.

"He –"

"Not yet."

The words were punched from her very lungs. Clove made a sound like choking as a larger figure bowled her into the grit below with an ease that would haunt the girl for many nights thereafter. Adrenaline throbbed through her veins like a blaring alarm as she tensed and writhed beneath her attacker's superior weight, the dizziness of their tumble finally clearing to reveal the exact pair of mismatched eyes she should have expected to be glaring down at her.

"You!" She hissed. Her face twisted with blooming hatred when another voice called out among the fray, her own name uttered in a voice achingly familiar.

"Dalila! Dalila, they're Sigrún!" Clove screeched the alarm, though she was not afforded enough time to search for her sister herself. Clove launched her muzzle forward like a heat-seeking missile as she attempted to wrap her teeth spitefully around Dresden's right cheek, that stench of salt and sea brine growing more nauseating by the moment.

---

CLOVE vs @Dresden
Dominance
Round 1 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 3d20: 8 + 2 + 6

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 2 + 1 + 13

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 8 + 14 + 6 + 20

@Roan @Dalila
+20 - Participate in a raid or war (double xp via Peregrine)
+10 - Complete a spar or fight (double xp via Peregrine)
+## - Win/lose a fight (double xp via Peregrine)

code by corvus

Two are absent. Two have gone astray.

It doesn't help she might have over counted Revenant and Hylaeus more than once; forcing them to look at her so she could see their eyes clearly; lest one use the other as an excuse to slip away. It was natural for cubs to leave the den eventually though and they were growing faster than the Iscariot had expected. Time was slipping away and soon...

Now's not the time or the place.

Once she's confident Ciela and her brothers will remain behind, the lilac woman sets off. Each stride of her sable paws growing into a long steady sprint, stopping here and there while tracking the distinct aroma of her daughters. Scorpius, Septima - even the scent of Artæmis was tell tale in the air. However.... so too were many others. In fact the further away from the Gorge; the closer she came towards Scilla - the more her chest began to rattle. A deep and primal thrum stirring to life.

So many aromas all tangled together and soon too grew the din of battle. All in such close quarters that she slinks off to the side, clamoring atop of a nearby fallen log to peer over for a sign of familiarity. When at last she sees @Septima not amongst the fray, the Iscariot shifts to the left and makes a beeline for the healer. Fury and Avaric are beside her and relief floods through her.

Her brow knits together scornfully, aiming to plod on close enough. "I've got them," Go. Do what you must. She does not know the reason but if Scorpius was fighting; something was most certainly amiss. Only then does she turn to @Fury and @Avarice, growling softly before her ears twist back. "If you fight, you fight wisely. You are too small to go after some so large, no? You pick a target you're confident you can take. Don't be foolish, your teeth and claws are not yet fully in." Reverie muses; they are her daughters after all and bloodshed some day is inevitable. "Stay out of sight unless such a choice presents itself."

There was no point trying to drag them both back - better they learn so that someday they can take what they want too. She will not raise babes to stand by idle and scared.

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY DEE, MODIFIED BY GUNNER

As Miaran collided fiercely with the elder lioness (@Hanneth), the world around her erupted into chaos, and a stranger (@Roan) barreled into her side, sending shockwaves through her very soul. A glint of her fang caught the faint light, and in that moment, @Milano’s urgent voice pierced through the din, igniting a tempest of self-reproach within her for leading her pride into this turmoil. "She’s a witch. I have to," she gasped, the weight of her conviction mingling with the agony of fresh wounds as claws and teeth savagely tore at her skin. Each clash of bodies echoed her turmoil, but she couldn’t afford to falter; her heart raced, throbbing in time with the relentless beat of battle.

The reminders of her former wife crashed into her like a tidal wave, crashing against her, pulling her deeper into despair. Just as despair threatened to swallow her whole, she instinctively fought back, shoving away the weight of @Aphrodite. But the torment didn't relent; new cuts throbbed and wept, a visceral testament to the war raging around her.

Then, a voice she knew so well broke through the chaos, grounding her. Miaran’s focus shifted, her heart ablaze with defiance as she faced the chimera lion, her voice rising above the cacophony, a fierce declaration erupting from her lips, "Reti! Vous connaissiez mes intentions à l'égard des sorcières. Les morts ont besoin d'être laissés tranquilles!" You knew my intentions towards witches. The dead need to be left alone! In that moment, all her fears and fury coalesced into determination, igniting her spirit to confront the shadows that dared to invade their world.

With her fresh wounds stinging, Miaran surged forward with fierce determination towards the massive lion. Claws extended like lethal blades, her singular eyelid narrowed in focus, and her tail whipped behind her like a storm raging in her heart. A wild snarl escaped her lips, fangs gleaming as she launched herself towards his left flank, driven by an instinctual thirst for victory. She "aimed" to sink her claws into the muscle of his shoulder, desperate to claim her place in this battle, her heart pounding with adrenaline. Every muscle coiled, her back legs poised to bear the weight of her fierce resolve, while her right front paw fanned out, grounding herself in the chaos of the moment. With her head slightly tucked and jaw agape, she fiercely safeguarded her throat, a warrior determined to fight, no matter the cost.


Miaran vs @Reti ♔
Death
Round 1/7
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 12 + 17 + 13 + 14 + 18 + 5

Dodges:

Rolling 7d20: 11 + 15 + 19 + 2 + 5 + 6 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 15 + 16 + 1 + 8 + 18

* Due to the severity of these fights, wounded rolls do not apply during them. Lions are able to use their full, unwounded dice when engaging in a DM for fairness and a level-playing field.

coded by flea + background credit

Ashland X'uekai

Walking halfway across Amaryllis was fucking tiring okay? So he'd stopped multiple times along the way, feeling disappointed and disapproval towards himself for being unable to keep up with anyone else. Not that he'd be welcomed, but the little prince hadn't quite thought of that yet. He just knew everyone had left. Even his sister! How dare she just wander off without him? Actually, how dare she wander off! They were not supposed to! Even if he too was doing what they were not supposed to it was definitely @Sarai who was at fault!

He'd lost her trail her scent fading into the beach and waves and the prince snorted shaking his dark fur as he rolled in the sand. It felt nice and it hid his scent too, keeping out of sight was important. Both to explore but also to stay safe. As lions, they would grow into mighty apex predators but at only a few months old they were still small and vulnerable to dangers. Staying unnoticed was important, it was a skill learned through play and fear.

He'd get up eventually. When the noise from further down the beach made his curiosity become unbearable. So he'd sneak closer. His small dark frame kept close to the ground as his ears fell flat against his skull and he hid under a sturdy and lush green tropical bush that cast its shadow over him.

Looking into the chaos Ashland's eyes widened, he'd seen lions fight before, but not like this. Not this bloody, not this many. His gaze finds the familiar white frame of mother and the pink lion, fighting two unknown lions. Then the two males who he'd seen fight in the brook. But they are not fighting each other this time. That was good, right? He doesn't know, doesn't understand, doesn't like that he doesn't understand. But he remained silent, hopefully hidden and watching. Learning.

His pale eyes are wide but not necessarily fearful. He doesn't understand what is going on, perhaps some part of him knows this place is dangerous. Perhaps that is what keeps him pressed into the sand silently watching the chaos. Watching mother fight, and everyone else. At least until a large grey frame and a smaller plum frame catch his pale gaze. Sarai and @Lathan. Why was the noble sleeping? That didn't seem right. No, it seemed very wrong. Sarai seemed to try and wake him and another joined her? Ashland doesn't recognize the strange man and he doesn't know him from the brook.

The princeling watches as @Matthieu takes his stance above his sister and despite not knowing why the boy's fur starts to puff. Something about this doesn't seem right. The princeling's eyes dart to Mother, to @Icefang ♔. Had she seen it? Was she worried or angry at the man? He didn't understand so his mind reeled trying to make sense of it as a cold feeling started to settle in his belly.

His pale gaze darts between them, watching Sarai, watching the lion, and watching Mother.

-Ashland is trying to hide-

Potential xp
Sleuth
+10(20) Sneak into a pride or group without getting caught
+10(20) Remain undetected in a large thread (5+ characters)
+5(10) Practice hiding your scent

Paladin
+5(10) Observe a fight (Temero & Icefang vs Alexander & Cassandra)

code by corvus, art by celestialdrifter

usually i'm very polite

Peace is an ideal she does not think that this land can ever understand.

When she hears @Morrigan's call for personal allies, and recognizes the Queen's voice, she bolts upright where she lazes in the Plains. The sound does not come from the mountain on high, but the Lagoon's direction. Her heart thunders, breaths quickening in her lungs. There are some voices she cannot ignore, and Morrigan is one of those. The Queen had taken care of her family, had given them shelter and still gave shelter to her daughters. Ghyslaine let loose her own summons for Lorien Plains, calling for any of those willing to go to Lagoon. To assist.

She tears herself out of the grasses, bolting into a streak of speed as she heads towards the Lagoon, covering the ground as fast her shorter legs would allow.

What she arrives too?

Chaos

The scent of blood is thick in the air, and in some places she swears there is such a fine red mist that you could walk through and see it cast its deadly color over your fur. She stares with wide eyes, scanning the crowd- her body freezing as she sees @Peregrine fighting @Morrigan. Her heart stops, and the scream t e a r s from her lungs. "PEREGRINE NO! STOP!" As a mother, few things could strike her with more horror than to see her son fighting.

Her eyes flash over others, noting @Aprhodite , @Zinnia , @Idunn -- @Olive , fighting Anniston -- @Elodie , @Aspen together along the edge of the crowd -- Lorien was already there, a lot of them and most were involved in random struggles. She sees lions she knows from all walks of life locked into battles, but then sees @Reti ♔ barrel into war calling for death. Her breath stutters in her throat- worry for him consuming her for a moment. For what this could mean for the Plains... Heart thundering, she pushes through the crowd- barreling through them all until her gaze lands on him. A constant.

She pushes through them all, moving towards @Alaric, whispering. "What the fuck is going on here?" Eyes would lock again on her son where he fought with Morrigan- lock again on that fracturing of her heart. "He's my son, he's mad at me but why is he fighting her." She would whisper aloud - gaze locked on Morrigan's fight. She cannot focus on her friends agony, and the fight before him, that he is trying to get involved in- she does not know his daughters by sight. She can only focus on the whole ripping itself open in her chest, the feeling and the question echoing in her mind.

Where did I go wrong?

Ghyslaine is open to a fight!

TLDR- Ghys has arrived and is upset to see Peregrine fighting Morrigan. She's moved over towards Alaric, near him but not interfering with what he's doing.

but i'm about to get savage tonight

code x art

With hands so soft - delicate and sweet
+10 (Double EXP) Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds
+20 (Double EXP) Participate in a raid or war (actively fighting, healing, or helping others)(?)

Things had escalated quickly. She was more certain by the moment that she should slip away, but not while there were lions of the Hollow fighting. They would need to be looked after once their fights had finished, the sooner the better. So she remained, even though a moment later she wished she hadn't. Because blissful ignorance would have been better than the panicked lurch in her heart.

She saw @Reti ♔ from the sidelines, brightening as always whenever she spotted him, and then were it possible for her to turn pale as a ghost she would have. RETI NO! she screamed, though it wasn't her place, though she would have been so harshly punished for trying to interfere in a man's decision. She will punish herself later, if fate doesn't choose to do so for her. But for now she can do nothing other than panic, frozen on the sidelines.

Is there anything for her to do? What can she possibly do? At least others have the solace of Maua, their incontrovertible beliefs in the afterlife, but she has neither of those. She has nothing but her heart, thundering in her throat, making it impossible to breathe.

_{ART BY SPU · CODE BY DEE}

"Nobody brave enough to face me, Palpatine of Wolfbron Bluffs?" the ritual declaration rang out as she propped her chin high. "I know we have enemies. What smell do they wear? What shadows do they think they can hide in?" standing around boasting at nothing suited no ends; high-stepping, she approached a cloud of pride scent, her tail swatching with complete irritation. Winter's dying dusk obscured the darkness of most of her pride from her sight. Without halting, she bent shoulder behind one who suddenly swept off @Elaine ♔ into what sounded like a large tussle. Palpatine drew up, hesitant to enter into a brawl with no honorable declaration and no stakes.

Tossing her skull back, she took large steps and surveyed a piece of open ground. "Enemies of the Bluff! Face me, or receive the dishonor of being mauled while fleeing!"

+10 20 Intercept a trespasser (Melusina)
+10 20 Participate in a raid or war (SL/Allies vs EM/Allies)
+10 20 Win a fight (vs Cathán)
double exp from Peregrine's presence

The cat went limp, as if awaiting death, and Rémi moved a step back. If the cheetah was to die, it wouldn't be by his claws. At least not today, if he took the chance to leave. The breathy thanks only earned another roll of the eyes and a shake of the head, "Passe." Go away. Go far from here if you value your skin.

As the cheetah picked himself up to slink away, Rémi turned his attention to surveying the surrounding chaos. Quite a lot was happening, but there were a couple familiar faces in the crowd. One of which was more surprising than the other.

Weaving through the crowd, he'd aim to approach @Aymond and @Matthieu - even as Matti turned his own attention to a cub - and raise a brow at the fallen lion sprawled on the ground. "Who all dese come make de misere?" It was less annoyed and more...bemused. Party crashing was one thing, but this felt bigger than that, and Rémi had no idea what, exactly, had kicked off the brawl. A glance, then, to the other Bellefontaine, "Bonjou Aymond, byenveni nan fèt la."¹ It came with a half-smirk, though his attention didn't linger on the man for long as Rémi continued to survey the area for any incoming threats.

[rémi is open for additional fights]

¹Hello, Aymond, welcome to the party.

code by corvus

She erupted from the shadows like a streak of blood. The vibrance of her coat is striking against the sandy backdrop of the lagoon. The Blood Mother wastes little time closing the distance, her mind focusing solely on her target. She didn't know the boy being attacked, but he smelled of this place. Of her allies. A snarl erupted from her gullet as spittle flew from her mouth, jaws parting in her fury - snapping multiple times as if she were impatient to rip.

Her good eye narrows in on Felix, the larger opponent getting at the boy from behind. How cowardly. Did they feel proud? Jumping someone and outnumbering them. Not on her watch. Back legs serve as literal spring boards as she slows, shifts back and launches herself at the saber's side - so that they can see her coming, but likely not enough to prevent the crash of bodies.

Teodora's aim was to throw all of her weight at them, teeth attempting to latch onto the side of their face and lock on. She would use her front limbs to try and wrap around their neck, talons wanting to try and latch onto any flesh she could to ensure herself a hold. Back legs would attempt to brace on the opponent's body, claws aiming to dig him. Saliva would flow freely from her jaws, not caring if she slobbered all over her opponent in the process.

Teodora & @Asbjørn vs @Khadija & @Felix
For Theft of Avril
0 1 2 3
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 9 + 17 + 14 + 13

Dodges:

Rolling 7d20: 6 + 17 + 9 + 8 + 12 + 13 + 16

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 4 + 3 + 11 + 16 + 13

coded by flea + background credit + art