She had gone because Circe had called, but Aarani was a pacifist. Instead of claws she had brought her herbs, but it was @Dior that gave her pause. Her heart caught in her throat as she rushed to the scene, spotting her wife among the crowd looking ready for battle. It was then Aarani fractured, realizing how little she and their unborn cubs mattered to the woman. The only thing you love is violence -- not me or our unborn fucking cubs. I'm done, Dior. I'm fucking done with this. We're through, she snapped. Fight all you want, I won't be there to patch you up at the end. She didn't care what @Viné did at that point, she only tossed the herbs to the ground and stormed back to Wolfbron to gather her cubs and go.

enter & exit

^{_{CODE & ART BY D}}

She heard it.

She felt the tension in the air shift, and with it, Ismae would arrive. Sangri’s call rocked her bones, and seeing Aquila and her engage in a battle of death had the pale Noble pacing. The laws of the forest… she had to do something. She was loyal to the leader, loyal to the forest, and the forest had chose Sangria.

And Aquila wasnt the only threat.

Eyes would snap to @Valhalla at his words. Eyes would narrow, and Ismae blocked out everything else that people were saying. Allies were here, but so were enemies. Ismae was focused solely on Valhalla. Was she bold enough to put her life on the line like Sangria? Would she let the Queen be the only one at stake? If Sangria was ready to die for this pride, so was Ismae.

Growling, Ismae unsheathed her claws and snarled with rage. “You speak so boldly… follow your leader to death then.” She said nothing else after that, her frame attempting to lurch forward, claws unsheathed as they attempted to extended and wrap around Valhalla’s neck, hoping to make impact and begin their own dance to the death.

Let the best warrior’s win…

Ismae vs @Valhalla
for death
1 / 7

Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 7 + 6 + 13 + 9 + 17 + 5

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 16 + 9 + 10 + 3 + 4 + 15

(I’m sorry!! She decided to go her own path with this one.)
text. "She speaks." 'She thinks.'

Art & Table code by Zodiac

the way here was unfamiliar, but he follows @Sol dutifully enough. hardly paying attention as the landscape bled away from dirt and dust to a lush, green forest. the titan seemed to move with more determination now that there was death in the air, a bloodhound on the scent. there's no real surprise in that and he is quiet, silent, as they join the growing crowd. a rising din of tension and controlled chaos. a powder keg, ready to blow. easily the pale shadow follows behind the bronze-pelted man, head on a swivel as sol stops to speak to a woman. he doesn't have to be familiar with this forest or these lions to know ( to expect ) violence at any turn, and he has a debt to repay. he lingers about a stride back from sol, muzzle aligned with the larger man's hips, as pointed ears flick — watching the most furious lions with a keen eye.

CODE BY LARS

a heavy sigh. things were brewing, and a yearling had left to watch. the burly man hadn't wanted to babysit. to look after a young one and protect them from their own stupidity. but here he was, following after @Parvati with an exhausted look on his face.

they were in trouble. shoulders and meaty paws shoved fronds out of his face, scowling and huffing to himself. this wasn't how he'd planned his night. the dimara patriarch had far better things to do, but surely ava and morrigan wouldn't want one of their young members mixing themselves in this kind of trouble.

blood and death had no place around the innocent.

the spotted merle would come up behind them, glancing at those around warily. should they happen to attack the youth, he would be ready to defend. but they had no place here. loch would rumble a growl at parvati.

"we have no business here, kid. it's best that we leave them to their violence." the beast explained, uneasy and not in the mood to fuck around.

TABLE © ARGENT 2018

He had been unaware that his little sister was following him. Unaware that he had lost her back there but when @Feyre shows up did Gostir come to a realization that he was on guard duty. Slowly, he moved his large from to stand over the growing girl and he would sit there as a protective boundary. You shouldn't be here, Feyre. He would voice for her ears only. Claws would sneak out of the sockets and dig into the ground as he would let those know that she was his and his only. That they would have to deal with him if they tried to take her from him.

irish

dior devaux.

dior turned, attention snapping from the chaos to aarani instantly. she was livid, madder than the chartreux woman had ever seen. guilt and dismay crashed down on her as the words slammed into her ears. knees threatened to buckle and a broken sound shuddered past her lips.

instantly, the warrior was gone. paws turned her away from it all, hyper focused on her wife. this was not at all what she'd intended. nothing had mattered more to her than aarani and their kids. and obviously it was not a great idea to show up to a raid while pregnant. it'd been a lapse of judgement - misplaced sense of duty.

she would explain herself to her sovereigns later, but nothing mattered more than her family. they were her reason for all. and with this in mind, heart breaking and mind shrivelling into the deep darkness, she'd flee after aarani.

-exit dior-

@Aarani

she knew this day would come, it was something that had always lingered within the pits of her mind from the first moment she had joined arms with sangria. but so soon - this was not expected. she has lingered amongst the trees during it all - from the unfolding of the oasis trench and to the day of battle. her acute ears wavering amongst the crowd to pick up whatever words that maua so gracefully wafts her way. it seems to all twist a gruesome snarl upon her face as the blind ward devils from the trees. washing through a shaking of raptured leaves and broken twigs as the gentry's expression twists unto an expression that is only described as sinister.

her awaiting strike snarled towards the foolish and weak that stand among their doorstep. your head will make such a pretty centerpiece for the queen's court boy. never foolish enough to initiate battle - but prideful to promise a sickly sentence to those who defy their master. why couldn't these idiots just sit and play nice like good boys? like dogs to their masters. never.

they were all too foolishly encapsulated in their own needs to defy the will of a god. it was pathetic. but..perhaps not as pathetic as the squabble of voices of protest but time is not graceful in the wares of how she would be given to react. for the familiarity brings her to adulterated passion - the adrenaline coursing throughout the god-queen's veins at the sound of war.

ismae.

if they were so willing to die for the forest. what made her any different? wolfbron. they stood boldly amongst them - so what was stopping her from actions of the damned? nothing. except death. if sangria would fall....firnen would die. and celeste would be damned if that were to happen. fuck the mire. fuck the hodari. this...this was just a ploy. another plan to get their hands upon the throat of amaryllis. not this time.

they would burn before the witch before taking her precious forest.

Violence. Was. Wrong. Parvati glared between the two males. The two idiots. Lions that size never bothered to think. It was absolutely infuriating and their tail lashed, ears back, eyes scrunched within grey furls of wasted skin. Parvati was absolutely pissed off but it would never occur to attack, to intervene. Violence wrought violence like one rain cloud running into another. It was so obvious and it was all Parvati had been taught.

"EEK!" they screeched as a form rushed in nearby, a blurred and violent Ismae targeting one of the males. That idiot ought to shut up but he ought to shut up because it was the right thing to do, not because someone else shut his mouth for him. Parvati shrunk and backed up. Their personal space hadn't been intruded but they Felt It. The surprise. Invasive. They backed up into a large, towering male @Lochlan, who smelled like the Cove and strangers. Parvati whipped around to stare up at the merle brute. "They shouldn't fight! You just say that because you want to fight too! Because you're big and stupid and like to watch others fight and die!"

She had been out gathering herbs in the jungle. Her unborn babies and those of the other ladies within her pride weighing heavily on her heart so she had decided to keep herself busy. So when she heard the call from @Circe and @Zoticus coming from the Rainforest she knew something was up. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach one that grow worse and more tangled as she grew closer to the gathered.

Arriving in time to see bodies locked in deadly battles she was confused for a moment. Had the King and Queen of Bluffs called members to fight to the death knowing a good number were either teenagers, healers, wounded or pregnant? No surely that wasn’t the care.

Going to stand near her leaders she looked sadly at @Nymria and @Aurum. “What is happening?” She asked with worry and concern in her voice. Looking for a moment at the red Queen before her eyes moved to Aurum. This was a mess she wanted to comfort her friend but was unsure if that would be seen as an act of betrayal against the pride and their ally. After all rooting for your enemy wasn’t seen nicely.

Moving closer to Aurum she leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Have faith. He may live yet, but I am sorry …” She grew silent blaming herself in away when really she had nothing to do with this. Though perhaps she was blaming herself as being part of the group of outsiders.

( I am ok with her being attacked as long as it isn’t more than a Dom match and no one goes after her unborn babies. )

Art & Table by Autumn!

He doesn't want to be here. This..This wasn't what he was promised. This wasn't what the world was supposed to be like. Yes - he knew Wolfbron were avid within their alliances and fights, but this, it was too much. Too much chaos. Too much anger. Too much anguish. Just...too much everything for a singular body to hold. Yet - still he comes. Beckoned as a dog to their master. Pliant and deathly within the staggering weight of the world that he seems to carry upon his shoulders. It is like a black hole. The way the guilt and remorse swallows his frame whole. Seemingly palpitating and absorbent from each and every lion and lioness that protest the wares of battle. But the universe does not will it within the fates for anything to be done but the act of war. Treason of a treachery to take the life of not one, but two others within the wake of selfishness and possibly even more. He wonders briefly if today will be his last should the Firnen Queen should fall - and if so, what had he lived to show for them? For him? Simply. He had not. Yet, the lilac patron finds his place amongst the crowd of bodies. Tense within discomfort, and perhaps even shaking in the wares of gnashing teeth and devilish tongues that snake within the war stricken forest. As if there actions were not those controlled of self will, but pushed unto the serpents coil to be snapped within a trance. Maua didn't seek blood. She sought justice. This, this wasn't justice. This was death. Death marked without cause, other than selfish greed and petty adulterated grudges. It wasn't supposed to be this way, yet, it was. It had become what he had most feared within himself. Malice. Run. The feeling seems to press tightly upon the scouts bosom. Very much like that of before, but this time. He was not just a number. More than that he had become a trusted occupation to their scorns, a member to their society expected to hold integrity with the upmost wit and might even unto his last days. Yet - Sole was just a boy. A boy forced to grow too fast. A boy that had no grasp unto the wages of war within the world, missing the peace of a life without forged swords and iron teeth. Just a boy, who loved a man, and wanted nothing more than to keep his family safe. But, no one ever got what they wanted. The world plays it's cards against them once more, and Sole? Why, he is left to be nothing more than the prisoner observing from behind bars. Captive and forced to devil within the routines of satan's fiery game of poker. Where no one won, and everyone lost in the end. But no one would ever seem to come to this realization. Thus, the cycle would continue. Forever.