+5 Exercise to gain strength (not including spars)


she spends her days by the sea and her nights in the halls of her brother, her sovereign. usually, it's just for the smell of the salt and the familiarity of the siren song of the waves. but today she comes to the black sand beach with the intent of a little exercise. she feels like she's gone soft, having settled down in amaryllis after so many weeks of travel, and she'll not have that. so she leaps side to side, fighting the pull of the sand, bunching her muscles and releasing them as she continues her odd little back-and-forth, feeling the exercise strain her muscles in all the right ways.

long way down to the bottom of the river

Hold my hand Ooh, baby, it's a long way down, a long way down. The wolves will chase you by the pale moonlight. Drunk and driven by a devil's hunger. Drive your son like a railroad spike into the water, let it pull him under. Don't you lift him, let him drown alive. the good Lord speaks like a rolling thunder. Let that fever make the water rise and let the river run dry. And I said 'Hold my hand.'

code by corvus

A Wise Man's Heart Is Seldom Glad

The young man enjoyed the cove, just as he enjoyed the beach. It was an unpopular opinion, truly. Many Felidae despised the sensation of sand between their toes, sticking to their pelt, getting absolutely everywhere... but he did not mind it. The crashing of the waves against the shore, the calls of the birds above and the gentle splash of a playful fish every now and again. It was calming.

He took a deep breath of the salty air as he made his way down the shoreline from the cove, heading north. He had decided to take a stroll outside of the pride's borders. He was eager to explore this new land, and now that he had a place to roughly call 'home', he felt it was safe to do so. As he made his way, he suddenly caught the sound of labored breathing from up ahead.

He picked up the pace, ears perked forward and magenta gaze fixed forward for the individual responsible for the noise. He wanted to be sure no one was in peril... but as he approached, he realized that it was simply a female leaping and bounding around in the sands.

For a moment he was a bit confused... He observed for a moment before it came to him what she was doing. His confused expression smoothed from his features, the young man released a chuff to announce himself.

"Do you train for any particular upcoming purpose, or simply to stay in peak condition? If it is not too bold of me..."

He asked with genuine curiosity. He wondered if perhaps this female was planning on going into battle for something or someone... to better herself or someone else by the spilling of life-blood. He hoped it was simply training to train... she was rather pretty. It would be a shame to see her all scarred up.

@Saga

code by corvus

+5 Exercise to gain strength (not including spars)

she's intent on her exercise. even as the sand drags at her steps and makes her work that much harder, the exertion feels delightful. with wounds still healing from her gentry battle she can't push herself foolishly hard, but sitting idle has never been her style. as she lets herself come to a pause, breathing heavily, there's the sound of a chuffing greeting and her brown eyes rise. they track the youth's frame and she pauses to groom some errant fur on her chest, smoothing the strands and taking a moment to force her breath to steady and heart to calm.

"there are always battles to be had, sveinn" she promises. she exhales deeply and then offer a faint smile. "but today i train to keep my body sharp." she turns herself to fully face him, split face regarding him with a slightly quirked brow. "always be bold." she adds, tilting her jaw. "anything else is dull."

a paw lifts, wrist wiping across her face before she places it back on the black sand and looks on, waiting to see if he's anything further to say or if he's planning on joining in the fun. she had been intending to find a sparring partner after this...

@Claw

long way down to the bottom of the river

Hold my hand Ooh, baby, it's a long way down, a long way down. The wolves will chase you by the pale moonlight. Drunk and driven by a devil's hunger. Drive your son like a railroad spike into the water, let it pull him under. Don't you lift him, let him drown alive. the good Lord speaks like a rolling thunder. Let that fever make the water rise and let the river run dry. And I said 'Hold my hand.'

code by corvus

A Wise Man's Heart Is Seldom Glad

Claw felt a secret blush behind his muddy pelt as she smiled to him and called him... a strange name. Sveinn - curious.

It is clear the exertion has made her feel quite good. She seemed to be in good spirits, although obviously a bit fatigued, yet she smiled. He did not smile back, yet an interested humm escaped his lips as he looked upon her pelt. Now he saw the wounds. They were not terribly bad... perhaps touched up by a healer. It would seem she stood true to her words... there were always battles to be had.

"As you wish, I will try my best. But I must warn you m'lady, I am naturally quite dull."

It was a joke of sorts, but without a smile upon his lips it might be hard for one to realize this. Of course... then again, he really did regard himself as not too interesting a lion. No one ever really had.

"It seems there was a recent battle. Does it hurt much?"

He was genuinely concerned. Even if he didn't seem like he cared about much, he cared more than anyone would know... and quite deeply. He did not know this lioness, so his tone was carefully kept at a monotone to keep an inconspicuous façade, but he couldn't help but step a bit closer to take a look.

@Saga

code by corvus

she offers a quick, throaty laugh. "at least you embrace it." saga admits, curling the tip of her tail in amusement. the lack of smile makes her wonder distantly if he's simply a careful soul. she appreciates boldness, given her family, but not all do. there's plenty who would sooner beat down the opinionated than embrace them, and she's surprised to see such a young soul so hesitant, polite. perhaps she's simply running the wrong circles. he lurks a step closer, inquiring about her wounds, and she makes a soft hum of surprise. she's almost forgotten about them. the former gentry had been quite compliant in not tearing her apart despite the obvious dislike she has for saga. they had not parted on good terms ( and, inwardly, she's all too delighted by being able to press her buttons even harder ) after all.

"not now." she assures him, reaching to prod the lingering scabs on her side with a paw. "it was between pridemates. quite tame."

@Claw

long way down to the bottom of the river

Hold my hand Ooh, baby, it's a long way down, a long way down. The wolves will chase you by the pale moonlight. Drunk and driven by a devil's hunger. Drive your son like a railroad spike into the water, let it pull him under. Don't you lift him, let him drown alive. the good Lord speaks like a rolling thunder. Let that fever make the water rise and let the river run dry. And I said 'Hold my hand.'

code by corvus

A Wise Man's Heart Is Seldom Glad

She laughed at him and his joke, and he was quite glad she realized it for what it was! Even more refreshing was that she didn't seem to mind much if he was dull. Perhaps she had been surrounded by the bold for long enough. At least Claw could offer a change of pace... a different outlook, even. She moved to prod at the healing wounds, and Claw felt himself slightly cringing sympathetically. She claimed it didn't hurt, but it sure looked like it did.

"That's good to hear."

He lifted his head back to it's natural height after she had answered. (He hadn't noticed he had lowered it to look closer, how embarrassing!) His voice warm and somewhat relieved, though one must be quite perceptive to pick up on that.

"Often even pride mates will take the most fleeting opportunity to tear each other to shreds. We are a bit like animals in that regard, I suppose.

Tell me... was it a dispute over rank? I find that to be the most frequent cause for physical altercation...

Or perhaps you called them a Sveinn also and they did not take too kindly?"

Wow... Claw was on a roll today! All these terribly funny jokes. What could he say? It made him feel good when she laughed the first time. He just wanted to see if he could do it again.

@Saga

code by corvus

he leans in close to examine the wounds and she finds one brow arching above her steady gaze. had he never experienced wounds? seen them close? how odd, this youth. she had been born and baptized in violence, time and time again, so that it's almost madness to consider that others have a wildly different experience. he's an observant lion and she turns to regard him with a bemused, but pleasant, expression. "our clan is close." and while that's only a half truth, it explains well enough why brigid hadn't really torn saga to shreds. or vice versa. they have their obvious dislike of one another, seemingly mutual, but do well enough to curb their violence to something acceptable.

or close enough to.

"já, a rank challenge." she clarifies, though flashes a quick glimpse of fangs at his taunt. her lips twist up at the corners and she wrinkles her nose. "are you so sure that is an insult?" saga challenges, tilting her jaw slightly to one side. she's almost sure he doesn't speak the tongue, but perhaps he does: amaryllis is full of surprises, it's not out of the realm of possibility to find another northerner among the ranks.

@Claw

ART BY BUNNY, CODE BY LARS

A Wise Man's Heart Is Seldom Glad

He felt himself blush slightly under his russet fur when she hiked a brow at his closeness… he had gotten a bit too close, and now he regretted it. He didn’t want her to think he was strange or abnormal. He tried to hide his embarrassment as skillfully as possible. It would do him no good to express the emotion he felt, that he knew.

“Ahh, is it?”

He answered, still a bit flustered, though his voice was surprisingly calm and collected, as though he had been unaffected by her previous reaction. He turned from one side to the other, wondering in which direction her pride was located, then his mind caught up from its flustered haze. She meant they had a CLOSE BOND! Not that it was physically close!!! Ugh. He turned back to her then, his half-lidded eyes attempting to catch her gaze.

“That’s very fortunate. Not many prides can claim tight bonds with all the fighting and bickering over ranks and the like.”

Good save!!! Damn… that was ridiculous, was he TRYING to be an idiot? She then confirmed his assumptions, that she had been injured in a pride challenge and he nodded, though, his eyes widened a moment when she wrinkled her nose at him in a mischievous grin… and if he was being honest, it slightly worried him that she was looking at him like that…

“Well, no. I suppose if I were to expect the worst I’d simply be pleasantly surprised if I were wrong, rather than vice versa… y’know, if it was reversed”

He tried to explain logically, his expression thoughtful. Then suddenly he looked back at her with an intensely quizzical brow of his own hiked.

“ummm… was it?”

He had been rather sure, in fact, that it had been. After all, his own name was an insult… Bloodclaw… the name of a “murderer” shamed and cast away… yeah, he’d expected an insult even from a stranger ignorant of his situation. With her inquiry, however, now he was not so sure.

@Saga

code by corvus

he's a funny fellow - equal bits flighty and polite, she thinks. everything about him is oh-so-much softer than those she's typically surrounded by. he word vomits an explanation only to quiz her on the meaning and she can't help but loose another short laugh. "it means 'lad' in the common tongue," she clarifies, arching her back in a stretch to loosen the muscles she'd been using before he arrived. "i suppose it could be an insult or a not, depending on how you look at it." a roll of her shoulder, both to continue her stretching and to shrug it off: leave it to him to decide if he should be insulted. "i find little value in being insulted by words, however." she advises, peering at him hawkishly. threats, of course, were different. but insults? words? especially if she cannot understand them? pointless to fuss and fret. easier to sink claws into flesh.

saga inhales his scent, mouth opening to tease it across her tongue, and nods absently to herself. "a member of drakon's pride, then?" she asks ( assuming this is set before the challenge and such lol ). she knows he and magnus has some sort of alliance, and it makes it easier to remain friendly-neutral with the boy.

@Claw

ART BY BUNNY, CODE BY LARS

She laughed once again, and Claw decided he'd at least grace her with a fleeting smile followed by a shift of his gaze down to his feet for a moment. He wanted to encourage her good humor towards him at least a little bit. He had never really managed to make a woman laugh so much (not that she was laughing much, which tells you plenty about poor Claw) and he was happy for her jovial mood, whether it be at his expense or not... it made no difference to him.

She explained what the foreign word meant, and he drank the information in greedily. 'Lad' eh? Not nearly as bad as he had assumed. Not by a long shot. This made him feel immensely better, which he realized suddenly that he had been feeling something he couldn't quite put into words. He was feeling better... better than what? Emotions were complex for Claw, but it would seem this stranger's opinion of him was something he cared about. When he thought she had been insulting him, it had apparently affected him in some way. What was that feeling called? He supposed it didn't matter now.

She began to stretch as she talked, perhaps getting a bit bored... or anxious to wrap up their chat? He nodded wholeheartedly as she expressed her opinion about not finding much value in being insulted by words. He agreed. There was no value in insulting words when the two parties could simply talk their issues through and come to a logical understanding.

He smiled again when she spoke her last words, noticing that his smile had faded as he had listened and been engulfed in his own mind.

"I am, indeed. I suppose the perfume of my pelt gave me away. I'm Claw of Caladan Cove... rather new, with no real rank as of yet, I regret to say.

And what pride do you affiliate with yourself?"

He was not yet familiar with all the scents that the prides wore like a family crest. He could not yet identify a lion or lioness's affiliation just by scent alone, though he trusted that in time he would come to master such a thing.

@Saga

image by moogle/code by saph