+5 Observe a fight

What was this? The call for the pride was interesting to the cub. A smirk spread across his maw as he got to his feet and headed towards the sound of the challenge. He wondered how the Queen would handle this challenge? Kerberos couldn't wait to see the fight.

Getting closer, he noticed a few others gathering around to watch as well. Some smelled of the pride but others did not. He did see Xerxes around here yet but he was sure the Noble would appear. Finding a good spot, Kerberos waited to see what would happen. If he would have a new leader.

the winter soldier

THE BLOOD ON MY TEETH BEGINS TO TASTE LIKE A POEM, LIKE RELIGION, LIKE THE WAY YOU LOOK AT ME

A call is made to challenge for Amara's throne, and the red titan will follow the commotions until his muscular, blood-washed figure unfurls into view. His blue eyes will scan the surroundings greedily, a scowl twisting upon his lean visage, the displeasure apparent on his facade. Already many have gathered, some new, some familiar, but evidently it's his older brother @Gauthier that captures his attention, and Amaroq heads straight towards him and leans into that space between them. He rumbles a silent greeting to Gauthier, before his eyes flick towards the battle unfolding. He does not say anything, but he can feel the fur on the back of his neck standing on edge.

Barbarian:
+5 Observe a fight

THE IRON MAIDEN
If we're ten thousand miles apart. When we're standing in the dark, We're still looking at the same stars. I'd cross oceans and galaxies for you

There is revolt outside the den, upheaval, and Eurielle eventually scrambles up to her toes, and scampers out of the den to follow the scent of her family. There they are, her father and brother, but the mood is soured by something else she can't quite understand. There are many lions out here, many strangers, and she feels a shiver slip up her spine, feeling both stressed and anxious by the whole situation. Eurielle wanders towards @Baphomè and @Ruth, mewling softly as she did so. She overhears her father talking about vultures, and she brushes up against the legs of Baphome, leaning into him for warmth and comfort. Her red eyes scan the landscape, taking note of her mother @Narcissa as she speaks to another stranger. What is going on? Feeling a little scared, she will then bury her face behind Ruth's back, her mewling a little quieter now, but her stress expressed nonetheless.

+10 Remain undetected in a large thread (5+ characters)
+10 Sneak into a pride or group without getting caught

+5 Observe a challenge and learn the results

Now there was a challenge he was very interested in watching, but he would have to be incredibly careful in doing so. He knew the risks of going near the Dieu's pride, but he was going to take those risks in order to satisfy his own curiosity and perhaps bring back knowledge that would be useful to Roan.

Tobin made his way up to the bluffs, carefully using the scenery to hide him. He came towards the fight from higher up, hoping to use the upper areas of the cliffs to hide him from other observers.

Finally he came upon the scene, able to see it at a distance that was almost too far away for him to really get a feel for what was going on. He crouched behind fallen rocks, only peeping out every once in a while when the fighting seemed to get a bit quieter in the hopes of not getting caught.

+5 Observe a challenge and learn the results
+5 Observe and study a new scent

[hidden, sleuth lvl 5 - can't be discovered]

Historically speaking, as far as his understanding went, the bluffs pride had a predilection for violence. Which meant, rather than stride boldly into the territory like so many others had done so far, Sherlock would, instead, opt for the secret path that had benefited him several times before. Slinking up a narrow, shadowed, pathway just wide enough for himself, until he could crouch behind a set of convenient boulders some distance above the main event.

For once, in his recent efforts to 'get back out there' as an old friend may have put it, he seemed to arrive before the fighting actually began. Which gave him plenty of time to observe the crowd below, and the general hostility toward the challenger. Understandable, of course, all prides became defensive against invaders.

Well. Most prides.

While waiting for the defending ruler to arrive, he would occupy himself by counting individuals other than himself, and noting how many adults (sixteen) and children (seven) were present. And then from that number the ratio of males (ten) to females (thirteen), as assumed from a distance. And the scent of the territory itself - stone and dust and some sort of hardy mountain grass.

code by corvus

Like a carrion fly drawn by the stench of rotting meat, Harrow slithered upwards and into the rocky heights of the Bluffs as the challenging roar echoed in his ears. Learning about the inhabitants who chose to call this place home was essential and it always seemed that others showed their true colours when conflict reared its head. In reality, the man had no issue whatsoever in observing and revelling in chaos and so he had slipped across the border lines without much thought. He had pause to study the pride scent, documenting it carefully before he followed the pathways upwards. He was not the only one who appeared interested, even if it was in a morbid way. Scarlet eyes washed over the assembled felines, sliding salaciously across the feminine curves that jumped out at him but otherwise remaining quiet as he remained in the shadows, watching.

+5 Observe a challenge and learn the results (1/2)
+5 Observe and study a new scent (1/2)

+5 Observe a fight (1/2)

Iseult is rushed from her den of bones and moss in the hearth of the woodland deep when she hears the call. Thrust through the underbrush and the overgrowth of the leafy thicket and the granite halls at the foot of the mountain - she dares not tread the boundaries of a pridelands but the love for her nephews and niece are at the forefront of her heart when it is bounding into her throat. It is still there when she approaches the gathering on the border, and her eyes have room only for @Baphomè and his spotted babes.

A twinge of fear turns to relief when she sees them, and the wash of relief is overtaken by a steadied fury, a mounting wrath when her eyes scrape every muscle and mettle of those who have arrived. The breath she's been holding escapes at last when the red breaks and no fights have been quartered - the children are safe in her brother's arms. A sigh, but the thunder of her heart is louder than her voice when she draws beside Baphome and says, Que se passe-t-il? Almost militant as an order, a demand, a warlord's thirst and divisive calculation - what is it, what becomes, what is needed? Qui conteste? she asks, stern still, her lip bared over curved fangs.

She stifles the growl low in her throat if only for the care of her kin, and the wave of protective ire breaks when she looks over them. They will see bloodshed today. It is their right, a passage into who they are, look and see and hunger. Beside Baphome she plants herself, curling tail around her quarters. Mes chattons... she croons, looking first to @Eurielle burying her face into her brother's back, then to @Ruth. N’ayez pas peur. Ils ne sont que de la viande.

french: What is happening? / Who challenges? / My kittens, / Do not be scared. They are just meat.

The boy was lazy –sloth that rivaled the gluttony of either parent. He was slow in arriving, his slow and methodical step tracing those that his siblings had taken. A hop carried him from fathers’ print to the next. Scarcely, did he realize the spread of tension in the air, the apprehension felt by his sister @Eurielle or the inquisitiveness of @Ruth. No, when he looked up from his hopping, all he found was @Narcissa drifting offside, and his auntie settling next to his father. Grinning, he gave another reaching hop aiming to land at her back. He draped himself there, caught between his father and @Iseult. With careless scramble and gripping, he managed to spill out, nestling himself tightly with his siblings. His eyes didn’t care to take in the aggression unfolding. No, instead, he grumped, slouching to nestle himself across Iseult’s feet. La viande? he sighed, satisfied at the thought of meat, Quand peut-on manger? when can we eat?

TRADE EXP (AMBASSADOR): +5 - Observe a challenge and learn the results (Rielus vs Amara) [1/2].

So he'd gone through with it.

Ebrahim could not fault @Rielus for being a man of his word, most certainly; while it was odd to see the former bodyguard rise up in such an ambitious way, the Azar could not say that he was surprised. After all, he'd aspired for ranks in the past, this was simply.... a step up. And a promising step up, at that. Amongst the hostile faces he would spot the frame of his cousin, and easily - a little protectively, in fact - he would draw up alongside her, moving to sit at her shoulder as his attention remained on the awaiting form of Rielus. The jackals in the wings seemed restless, and Ebrahim would keep half an eye on them as he observed; after all, this was not their home yet, and they were trespassers.

Until, perhaps, the tables turned.

^{_{CODE & ART BY D}}

She was bristling. Not with anger, but an anxiety that promised violence if provoked. Challenges were apart of pride life; leaders changed, allegiances shifted. The only thing truly consistent was that life altered as readily as the wind changed. If Amara falls, will Charax join the enemy or return to living on the outskirts of sustainability?

She arrives with a heightened sense of her usual rigidness; charcoal belly low, chin earthward and black-lined ears pinned to scalp. Tangerine gaze is as lethal as nightshade as she slinks through the growing crowds, coming to loiter near @Kerberos as if she felt the need to guard the youngster. He was frightfully casual about the potentially lethal situation - or was it her that was over reacting?

In her defence, Charax was told to assume all were her enemy. And enemies don’t play nice.

_{— art by yumpy}