halimede.

Halimede could have just stayed at the Oasis, nestled in the sands and soaking up the sun that dappled brilliantly between the palm fronds. However, as the call rang out for a pride nearby and it stirred the Oasis leaders from their humble abode, she could not help but feel compelled to trail behind them. By the time she arrived, @Seneca was already placed among the throng of onlookers who watched as two familiar faces battled it out in the rocky battlefield, presumably for the Bluffs. Halimede twitched her nose. Wasn't this the very same man she fought all those months ago, at the challenge that Genya had initiated? How strange, it comes full circle. “Aw, Seneca, look,” she purred, coming up beside the man's side. She made a pointed effort to brush her shoulder along his, wondering his he'd be ruffled under her sudden touch, “It's the guy who stole your girlfriend.” Her lips curved into a clever smirk, stopping to survey the battlefield as it unfolded before her. Faces, familiar and unfamiliar, lingered among the throes of them.

Most peculiarly, there he was again. @Magnus, tall and brooding. She felt her own fur bristle, remembering just the way he'd looked at her the last time. Halimede wondered just how long that man could hold a grudge. Part of her hoped he still did; something about that man being frazzled and dangerous was exhilarating.

Not much time passes before @Viné makes his presence known, possessively demanding the piebald man to move away from the queen. Seneca only barely manages to restrain himself from rolling his eyes, offering a soft snort of begrudging compliance as he makes room for the russet lion. Excuse me for defending her in your absence. Seneca has hardly made so much as a flirtatious comment towards Aarani; he sees their relationship as political, nothing more. But perhaps he should be flattered that Viné considers him a threat.

He is easily enough distracted from his annoyance by a sudden touch on his other side, and where he half expects to turn and see Genya, he finds @Halimede instead. He squints down at her and how comfortable she is in close proximity, but makes no effort to push her off -- she is welcome enough to play her games. A curl of his lips is offered at her commentary, half bemused and half a sneer. "Tried to steal," he clarifies. Do not forget who won that fight, Halimede. "And she's my wife." Perhaps not at that immediate moment, but in the hours that followed the events of that fight, Seneca had made certain that Genya knew she was his and no one else's.

"You know him?" he queries to his company, gesturing his skull in the direction of Magnus. He takes notice of her stare, and the unconscious tension that riles her beneath the skin. If she wishes him not to notice, she should take caution before pushing herself so close against him.

Seneca Miroslav

table by ferus, art by sleepykyju

+10 Witness an event worthy of making history
+5 Attend a challenge
What was the phrase? 'Fashionably late'? Probably didn't mean this late, but oh well. The bluffs were near his new home, but the call had been ignored for a while in favor of watching a particularly interesting lizard dart around the sands. But then a bird had made off with the lizard and Haros found himself left with nothing to do. Might as well check out the ruckus, right?

By the time he reached the top, and the crowd, he was already wondering if it was worth the effort to get there. How did lions live here? So much climbing...the way down would be easier though, so there was that. Weaving his way through the gathered spectators, he'd find a clear spot to flop near the edge of the territory. He had...no idea who either of the fighters were, but had gathered enough to understand they were fighting over the territory itself.

GOD KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY AND SO SHALL WE

His shove seemed to utterly fail, moving the other brute back an amount that was imperceptible to him in the heat of battle. And the other male kept talking, which was simply unseemly. Vermier was the best talker and this guy kept interrupting him with something that sounded like dull statistics, though he heard something about Manes - some excuse, of course - and something about his own life, which was indeed very worthwhile and worth living (on top of the Bluff, on top of the world). "Eez good deal!" he boasted again, an obsequious squeal - all sarcasm, for obviously the Dieudonné could not be expected to bow. "New land, and old king for dinner!" As shoving hadn't worked, he temperamentally attempted to carve downward instead (still with his left claws and Zoti's right shoulder).

Vermier missed the eye itself, but he tasted its proximity. He kept his eyes narrowed and ears tucked back and covered his distaste for failure with a zesty proclamation. "Dinner!" he growled as though just noticing that Zoticus' other shoulder was meaty too. Jaws drooling he tried to lunge his jaws toward the bulging muscle of the enemy's left shoulder, attempting to NOM NOM just as he said. Vermier did keep his word. Usually. Sometimes. Less so when he was hungry. Except when his word was to EAT SOMEONE. He could generally be relied on to eat someone when he was hungry. Zoticus' paw slammed into his left cheek, leaving mostly bruising with some punctures mixed in. They bled slowly, not yet staining the surrounding fur.

Vermier vs @Zoticus
Wolfbron Bluffs
4/5

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 12 + 20 + 18 + 17

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 2 + 17 + 14 + 16 + 20

Well tell me what you want, I'm all ears.
I'll give you all I got, blood, sweat and tears

Zoticus felt the energy draining from his body. Having been in three maim challenges prior, he was already in bad shape. He could feel his older wounds reopening, he could feel his blood pooling to the ground under him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to stand against Vermier.

Thr King’s paw slammed into Vermier’s cheek, but little satisfaction was felt. Instead, pain flared upon his shoulder where Vermier bit down on- the grip causing agony to course through his veins. That, along with the fresh wounds to his face from Vermier. Eyes narrowed, trying to see through the blood that pooled his vision, and Zoticus attempted to try and shove his frame forward into Vermier, hoping to rock his balance, all while his jaws attempted to bite down on Vermier’s ear.

Zoticus vs @Vermier for WB
5 / 5

Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 11 + 12 + 4 + 19 + 5 + 8 + 17 + 7 + 2

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 5 + 1 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 13 + 5 + 8 + 6 + 15

(+1 to hits due to pride tier)

coding by werge | manip by vasilia

---

it seems she's managed to avoid attention from any unwanted parties, and—still striding about confidently, looking at home in the foreign lands while wearing a pace that suggests she's on an important mission with no wish to be disturbed— after much sniffing and pacing about, has finally managed to track down a food cache. carefully brushing aside the leaflitter and scrap hiding the store, miette shimmies into the cool cavern, where she grins quietly to herself, licking at her lips. it really was such a shame that prides went to so much effort of hunting for them all that they ended up with such surplus. the pirate was doing them a favour, truly, ensuring that the food would be eaten before its expiry date approached. it was hard to tell exactly what it was from a glance, because pieces of the corpse had already been removed, but judging from the leg that she chose it had been an antelope of some kind once.

she hauls the limb out from the cache by the flank, glad that it hadn't been a larger creature so that she could still manoeuvre it despite her small size, and carefully replaces the leaflitter and scraps. the time now spent in the territory, without any strong scent of her own as a rogue, should have covered any scents that would suggest that someone who didn't belong had been here, so miette felt confident as she walked back out the path she'd came in on—almost making it out of the territory before diverting around back toward the challenge.

the calico adjusts her grip on the limb, teeth latching around the meaty femur as she scans the crowd, brightening at the sight of @Roarke. he's a little too deep into the gathering for her to want to barge in their with her snack (lest everyone get jealous and try to steal it) so she decides to move into the spot she'd just seen him vacate, sprawling with a lack of elegance in the warmed grass beside @cupid and @Madelina. sinking her teeth into flesh, tearing at the meat with an almost obnoxious lack of care, she turns her attention to the unknown male and the lioness next to him, @Lexa. " howd'y'know cap? " she asks conversationally with her mouth full, as though she hadn't just intruded on their little gathering, one ear angled towards roarke even as she awaits a response—ever ready to jump to his side.

---

Late. But at least she had slunk her way into the impromptu fighting arena to spectate. Aryssa moved silently and kept to the back of the gathering of felines, her pale hide a shining patch of ivory amongst the red rust of the Bluffs. Ruby gaze looked towards the pair fighting and her jaws tightened as she repressed a shudder. Never one for fighting. Though she supposed eventually she might learn, the pale vixen made her way to a perch and scrambled to the rock where she settled, watching with her mane blowing gently in the hot wind that scraped talons across the bluff.

code by koi

i lost myself into the night i clipped my wings and fell from flight

She does not expect to be defended, especially not by them. Bee is hardly stupid, and she knows exactly what group @Saga is from even without knowing her, and she watches the woman approach with suspicion, only for her turn her back on the yearling and sending the Bluffs lion on his way. Her brows furrow, wondering why she is being protected instead of chastised -- does the fact that she lives under Magnus' roof mean so much to them? Her gaze is uncertain when Saga turns to face them, lips pursed in perplexment, but she refrains from saying anything. She doesn't know what to say.

The body that approaches her free side at first startles Bee, who flinches slightly and whips her muzzle to the side, eyes widening to find @Úna there. Where have you been? Her close proximity suggests her sister's forgiveness for what had transpired all those weeks ago, and she finds herself again confused -- she had been so certain that Úna felt as Artos did. But instead, she is a stalwart strength to the spotted sibling, sandwiching her protectively between friend and family. Úna says that Vermier will win, and her words of encouragement only serve to encourage Bee to spare a brooding look towards Magnus, a soft sigh huffing from her lips. "And if he does, then what?" she mutters under her breath, murmuring quietly into Úna's ear. Even if he wins, they will still be trapped, watching from afar. Would Vermier rise to their aid, free them from the Lagoon? They are not Dieudonne, and she wonders if the fact that she has been their ally would be enough for him.

@Cassine arrives all spit and fire, attracting Bee's attention with a quiet stare. She doesn't rise to the bait again, her tongue having been stilled by Amara, but still she is glad to see that her friend hasn't lost her fury or her confidence. The Bezra yearling could use some of that right now.

On the other side of Úna, @Echo and @Mithros approach -- adding to the coalition of youngers that band together, and beginning to remind Beelzebub that she still has much to live for. She still has her family, strange and broken though it may be. The smallest of the clan offers further encouragement, but Bee can do nothing more than purse her lips, certain she knows the truth of it. After all, why would Magnus release them into the paws of his enemy, when he can keep them shackled to the Lagoon where they won't be allowed to do harm? Were she in the position of the herculean monarch, she wouldn't free them to grow stronger -- she would chain them, break them, make them worthless to their cause. It makes her fret for what the future holds, and she continues to bite her tongue.

She hadn't expected such an in depth answer from @Amara -- she had meant her question more rhetorically, but her gaze shifts back to the ebon lioness and her inner ear flicks towards her, considering her explanation. She is again reminded -- we protect our own. And while she hadn't been present at the events that had started it all, she is further confused to realize it was all little more than...misunderstanding. Why is it that the lions here are always so eager to fight? The things that are important to them confuse her: dirt, and pride, and grudges over words. Where the chaos in her old home had been rained upon them from the heavens and the gods, here, it comes from the inhabitants themselves. They don't have to fight the elements, so they fight each other.

It is then that @Magnus descends from his throne, only seeming larger the closer he gets, and she can do little but to watch him with leery eyes and her ears slapped back against her skull. She half expects his ire, for him to strike and snap at her, but he instead rounds on the lions of Wolfbron Bluffs, his baritone voice low and dangerous. It makes her skin itch to be referred to as a sympathizer, to be said that she is under his control. She wants nothing more than to be anything else, anywhere else than here, forced to obey -- or else.

The final words of her king make the girl all but shrink, reminded of how small she is, how insignificant. She has little doubt that he will prove true to his words, and all she has seen of him is a beast with no remorse -- she doesn't particularly fancy the idea of losing her tongue, and would hardly put it past him to wrench it from her. As she shies back, Beelzebub finds the familiar warmth of @Faevyre just behind her, and she takes advantage of the woman's position, scooting back further into the dirt and halfway beneath the mauve lioness's chest. She doesn't fit half so much as she did when she was smaller, but in this moment, she doesn't care how foolish and out of place she looks there; if she could have, she would have crawled entirely underneath Faevyre and disappeared.

Wide eyes turn as yet another beast of a lion comes closer to the gaggle of Bezra and Dieudonne yearlings, hovering on the pillar above them and claiming Amara as his. She stares up at @Roarke for a long moment, blinking in furtive confusion before her eyes snap back to Amara questioningly. Do they know each other? Or is this just some...benevolent man? She can hardly understand the motive, but some part of her is grateful for it -- finally, a warrior worthy of thwarting Magnus has come to challenge him for his venomous aggression.

@Kieran's words draw her attention momentarily, his frustration rolling off of him in waves. So he'd gotten Amara for himself, then. Evidently, her lame advice had worked -- or something like that. She hasn't seen him since the last time she stormed out of his company, and doesn't think the volatile Dieudonne wants much to do with her anymore. Still, he is here, and he is on their side, and for now -- that is enough.

table by sentinel / art

A pause was given in the middle of Copree's grooming routine, and for a moment the black and bronze lioness would paint a far from dignified picture with the slip of her salmon tongue sticking out a ways as ears pricked and then flicked in response to the sound of @Hanneth calling. Hmm? The 'blep' of a tongue would return to powerful jaws as Copree adopted a far more respectable expression rising to stand and follow in the pawprints of Hanneth.

With a slow inhale, and then exhale Copree scanned those gathered...taking keen note (and gaining a sort of grim satisfaction upon noticing the main combatants) before moving to stand at Hanneth's free side. Seeking to try and place her inky frame her side alllllmooost touching the bronze lioness in a silent show of support and reassurance.

Molten gaze worked to assess the combatants conditions, the wounds on their bodies, and gauge if Vermier would require healing after this resolved....assuming the lion wished for (or would tolerate) it.

---------------------------------------

+5 - observe a fight (1/2)
+5 - Attend a fight and asses wounds (1/2)

Hmmmmm.

Sureeeeeeeee he had not been called for specifically like Copree had, but lets be honest ... something was going down. Something VIOLENT sounding and Reti was not really the sort of lion to deny his curiosity or a chance for a little viewing (or participation) entertainment.

The fact that his mother and Copree were both also in attendance was a draw in its own as well. Slipping into the area while suppressing a pleased hummm the large swirled lion scanned both the crowed and the peaking battle both, attempting to judge the likelihood violence would erupt regardless of the outcome.

He made a note of were Hanneth and Copree were seated before shifting the majority of his focus to the bloody combat. Taking note of the two involved his lips twitched juuuustttt a little...the slightly flash of white fang tips gleaming for a second.

Oh. This ought to be good.

And Reti certainly knew who he was rooting for.
--------------------

+5 Observe a fight (1/2)

code by corvus