she were hardly the portrait of religious devotion, and the gods she had kept were faceless entities whose praises she’d only sung in moments, most dire. but if not a tool for selfish indulgence, or a target of blames left unaccounted for, the divine occupied little of her headspace and contributed less to her motives. thus, it were not the allure of incomprehensible power that drove olive to the shadowlands she’d come to know for its perpetual state of desolation (or so she’d sooner believe), but the promise of companionship conveyed in the trodden pathway she adhered to with long, jaunty strides. perhaps the notoriously-barren had fruits yet left to bear, and perfectly ripe for the taking.

but once the sweet aroma of jungle flora succumbed to that familiar miasma of ash, and the surrounding greens charred to blackest blacks, olive’s disappointment mounted beneath an anchoring frown. here, there persisted only the skeletal frameworks of once-lush trees and a stagnant backdrop of smoke — neither of which betrayed the presence of anticipated company. only a pitiful sprout of life sought to break from the darkness, here, and all the sprite could offer in her mirrored state of gloom were the encouraging, backhanded brush of soot away from its roots.

one day, she thinks — gods willing.


tag! @Lorant

code & art

reel me in

and just send me off

He frequented those wilds more often than he ought to. Though ashen ruin consumed all cover of vegetation that might afford the little cat protection, and the dizzying miasma of smoke utterly obscured Lorant's senses, he had come to make certain associations with the hellishness of it all. They were enough to make a man blush.

No wonder then that he pivoted at a brushing sound that disturbed the quiet. His was a hunter's prowl as the leopard made his way slowly, steadily across charred earth, eyes peeled and ears swiveled forward where his sense of smell was rendered inoperable. There amid the haze shone that familiar, ruby gaze, the firm ass attached to it more viscerally alive in Lorant's memory. He wore a barbed smile.

"What you doing?"

---

|| march y13 | nine years | lone creature | at scorched wilds | @Olive ||

Rolling wildsevent 1d13: 2
You can hear the sounds of a long-ago battle: Snarls and clashing teeth and cries. They grow deafeningly louder. Until they all of a sudden stop and your heartbeat quickens. Are they coming for you now?

code by corvus | art by max

how thoroughly the smoke veiled her senses, even now — as if this particular sector of the jungle were fated to ceaseless ravaging when left unattended by all else. it tampered with her vision, staining the whites of her eyes the same vermillion of her irises, and limned their rims with unbidden tears. its tendrils crept past her nostrils to clog new scents from registration, and even the silence seemed artificial through the inexplicable whirring in her ears. that @Lorant were already fleet-footed by nature afforded her little help in detecting his approach, but the lilt of his familiar accent soon remedied her ignorance. it rose above the perceived (or were it real?) crackle of surrounding embers and short-circuited her composure with a slight jolting, but realization smoothed her fried nerves just as swiftly.

though ash billowed about his dainty form – obscuring the finer details of his appearance within its haze – recognition forced a lopsided grin upon her fraying lips. of all the ghouls come to haunt the devastation lingering, here, olive found herself fortunate enough to have chanced upon this one. an inflated sense of self-importance, however, would not chalk up their second encounter to mere coincidence; and, internally, she’d favor a narrative that placed him at her heels like a lost puppy. still, olive could play coy, and would.

“waiting for you, of course,” she hummed, falsely innocuous. slowly, she pivoted more to face, clouded gaze conspicuously dipping for a tail thats silhouette she could scarcely make out through the smoke. “you like playing with fire, then?” came the jovial accusation: all-the-more supported by their smoldering surroundings. but her own devilish facade were quickly extinguished as she caught the familiar, distant clamor of battle. the smirk faded from her features as the rumbling amplified, seemingly closing in upon the pair from lorant’s rear, and at a pace much-too speedy for comfort.

olive’s eyes widened in panic despite the burn of smoke as it mercilessly lashed against them, enhancing the vibrancy of her cherry stare. “what did you do?” she whisper-screamed to the leopard while bolting toward him, attempting to loop a commanding forepaw about his ankle before seeking to drag the both of them to cover. she were an accomplice to whatever crimes the crowd wished to persecute him for, now — and boy, did they sound pissed.

code & art

reel me in

and just send me off

The jungle cat beamed even as her eyes rifled through shadows for the prize she so relentlessly pursued, unabashed in how he flicked it around his ankles to tease and tantalize.

"Yes, I play," Lorant agreed easily. He would try anything once, though contact sports were a clear favorite. He pushed himself closer one step at a time, barren ash crumbling beneath the balls of his feet just as he swore he was near enough to reach out and touch the umber sprite.

The earth shuddered. Cries for blood echoed from distant corridors and Lorant bristled where he stood, pelt puffing up so he appeared far larger than reality. His eyes went wild with rare shock as he craned his neck to peer off in the murky distance where no such crowd had lingered mere moments prior. Perhaps he would have gaped there a moment longer if not for her breathy cry and how it anchored him back to that moment. She clutched at his wrist and Lorant was already stumbling forth, folded into his most streamlined evolution as they sprinted through those wilds in desperate need of reprieve.

"Can you climb yet?" He shouted over the stampeding of their own blistered feet, already scanning the trees ahead for something sturdy enough to hold his weight. If she were a casualty in this, it was simply the sacrifice that was required.

---

@Olive

code by corvus | art by max

if she had harbored so much as an inkling of paranoia over a setup, masterfully orchestrated at lorant’s behest, it were duly exonerated by the panic that overtook him. his sleek rosettes erupted with frizz as the din of battle further enclosed upon their field of ash — a pitiful sight olive might have relished in, had she not been reduced to her own fit of hysterics. “what did you do. what did you do. what did you do?!” were the hushed mantra she recited as she staggered through charred remains and scattered sprouts, alike. blindly, she led them through the veil of smog with a commanding forepaw, clasped about the wrist of the accused: a shackle, and a lifeline, all the same. how easy it would have been for the sprite to make a hasty getaway and leave her companion to the proverbial wolves, but it were the subconscious thrill that prevented the cruel forsaking of her naughty acquaintance. that, and a forgotten sense of self-preservation amidst impending pandemonium.

but, oh! how quickly @Lorant had her ruing her decision to stay. an incredulous, contemptuous frown found olive, slack-jawed, before she cut a sidelong glance to her companion and his shouts. “do you want to die? is that it?” she whisper-seethed, skidding to a halt as the skeletal outline of massive tumbleweeds emerged from beyond the leopard’s crown. “don’t let me stand in your way, then,” were the gracious offer she’d impart upon him before freeing his wrist from the clammy chains that bound. with a final, grim press of her lips, she bid the cat a wordless adieu, glancing over a shoulder for the presumed crowd. and though she could not see the rioters through the smoke, her ears rang to the wretched shrieks and pounding footsteps that alleged to their dangerously-close proximity.

abruptly shifting her trajectory, the sprite sought to slip past lorant in a last-ditch effort to hide from the approaching mob. however questionable her choice of concealment, the barren mass of entangled underbrush would have to do for now — with or without the transgressor at her side for added security… or certain doom.

code & art

reel me in

and just send me off

“Don’t let me stand in your way, then.”

She loosened the noose from his neck (perhaps without realizing Lorant was not prone to hesitate). He only arched a furred brow before launching himself upon the nearest treetop perch with whistling speed and little shame. He would not even crane his neck to find the source of rustling leaf sounds beneath him -- to find the fate of an almost-companion amid the throes of a vengeful siege.

Lorant only realized the ache of his hunching shoulders when he went to loosen them a while later. Though he braced for impact, tail neatly folded around his ankles, pelt pressed low against thick branch, he felt all the stillness of empty air. His pulse throbbing in his own ears proved far louder than their war-cries ever had.

"They were scared ahf me," the leopard murmured triumphantly through inked, ebony lips. He rotated velvet ears in search as he looked at last to find where his accomplice had gotten off to in her mission to stay earthbound. "Or, you are playing tricks, pretty cat?"

---

@Olive

code by corvus | art by max

their paths forked with enough ease to quash any veneer of altruism that a spectator might have attributed to either cat. but, unlike her self-serving acquaintance, olive took it upon herself to scour the outskirts of the would-be battlefield for @Lorant before further twisting through the brambles of her hideout. frantically, her gaze darted between the hazy silhouette of his limber form and the presumed vanguard of the approaching militia. something akin to concern sketched fine lines between her brows as the rabid fanfare reached a horrifying crescendo; yet, olive retained her silence with suspended breath and gritted teeth-to-lip.

until suddenly, and all at once, there were nothing at all.

the beating of a hundred footsteps that had only just chattered through her skull died without so much as a parting murmur. and for a moment, the sprite were motionless from her prison of tumbleweeds: wary that it were all just a tactic, intended to lure them out into the open for a proper ambushing. but lorant’s muttered arrogance wrested her from her trance-like state, and her features quickly softened from slack-jawed wonder as she turned a crooked grin upon him.

his following question, however, reignited the smoldering embers that had remained of her fear and utter perplexity from their brush with unreality. and soon, the jagged edges of her chosen tumbleweed raked the thin flesh of her cheek and neck as she made to peer over their tops in search of something, anything. “i don’t understand…” were the thoughts she gave voice to as her efforts proved to yield little and less of interest. “did we just experience..? fuck it, i don’t know — shared delusions?” because, certainly, the leopard had heard it too, and she would not be deceived into believing otherwise.

code & art

reel me in

and just send me off

He rustled and scraped with slightly loosened grip, allowing himself to slowly descend the trunk upon which he clung by a few feet so he might get a better view of the emerging still-stranger. Lorant broadened his smile as their crimson gazes met, though hers was quick to flick around their surroundings as if seeking out their attackers once more.

"Delushins?" He repeated the unknown word as if tasting the feeling of it upon his tongue. A moment later, he dropped entirely from the perch to his paws with a soft thud. "You mean you are dreaming of me, cat?" Lorant panted through the shuddering rise and fall of his chest, pelt still slightly bristled with all the adrenaline of the chase. His toes tingled with the demand to run -- his ears rung.

They had gotten him all riled up without hope for satisfaction.

---

@Olive

code by corvus | art by max

his saving grace were the hesitance that anchored him to the treetops, lest olive find reason to pin accusations of well-executed deceit upon him. but even the most masterful of tricksters could not possibly throw the clamor of a hundred voices, she’d decided, and his bristling coat only further served to corroborate his innocence. innocence as far as the false riot went, anyway. still, the gleam of narrowed eyes fixed upon him as she made to slip free the bind of tumbleweed chains, fighting the urge to wince as their gnarled edges grasped at every inch of supple skin.

the sorry portrait of a disheveled worrywart, olive emerged into the vast expanse of ashen nothingness as @Lorant made to fully descend the length of his chosen treetrunk. there were a certain elegance to his motions that olive had come to admire as much as she’d come to envy, but his subsequent, sly questioning found her secret commendations quickly-buried beneath overarching incredulity and subliminal amusement. she let slip a hissed tssk! before shimmying to rid her pelt of the residual thorns that desperately clung, there.

“delusions would have you believe that i’ve been dreaming of you, kitten,” were the explanation offered on pointed, teasing tones as slowed, springy strides carried her ever-closer to the leopard. a corner of her mouth quivered with roguish intent before she loosened and rolled her joints — as if in preparation to lunge, as if in challenge. the mob may not have him, yet, but olive were newly-motivated and more than keen, besides.

code & art

reel me in

and just send me off

"You make me crazy," slipped honey-coated words from ever-slick tongue. Velvet lips pursed slightly with anticipation as the brunette wound her way closer, electric heat turning that wasteland almost ruby-tinted. All of that were true, and yet his taut muscles did not unfurl - his mind did not release its grip of this escape rout and that. No, a lioness was more prone to lashing out the closer she came, no matter how willing she may appear. The light glitter of pin-prick scars beneath velvet furs mapped Lorant's experience on the matter. Call him well-studied.

The leopard pounced to his right. He ducked back to his left. His paws were light and his tail an extended exclamation point to aid in his movement, determined not to go down easily at the hands of that delightful stranger if he were fated to go down at all.

---

@Olive

code by corvus | art by max