Léonie usually woke to the same view: the boring walls of the family den, sometimes blocked by someone’s butt in her face, sometimes not. But that morning, her eyes blinked open and widened when something new greeted her: white, fluffy mist! To her amazement, a CLOUD had fallen from the sky and found its way into her home. Léonie would’ve nudged her brothers awake to share in the wonder, had she not found herself so mesmerized by the sight …

Charmed, the royal hairball was lured away from her family and into the mist, leaving behind her dying scent and nothing else.

Léonie is lost in the mist!
Exit

coded by flea | artwork by ale-tie

prometheus enjoys being a cub for many reasons, the simplest of which is being allowed to sleep as much as he wants, and eat as much as he wants, and avoid talking as much as he wants. he's seen the adults, they always seem so busy and he doesn't want that subscription. so where some little kids dream about growing up, about being big and strong and useful, prometheus doesn't generally care about that sort of thing.

except, right about now. because he's pretty sure something weird and blurry just stole his sister. the smooth fur along the cubs spine prickles and bristles fearfully, as blue eyes stare at the spot where she'd been not so long ago. " lee? " he squeaks, clearing his throat roughly and glancing around, calling out again, " lee?! " but it seemed like she was well and truly eaten by the void, because he didn't get an answer...

scared now, though he would never admit it to father, the little boy turned back toward the den's interior, jaw locked once more against words and so he resorted to prodding everyone with sharp little jabs of his paw, hoping someone more responsible could fix this.

Lee! What did she do now? Artie was keen on remaining asleep, he’d no desire to be removed from his dreams though it happened anyways. Shoved awake, he grumped as he was made to stand. Roused, his bleary eyes sought through the din to find the figures of his littermates—seeing they were missing one. Too much like their father, instead he lay silent. His weight leaned against that of @Promætheus, uncertain what this all meant. Or where their parents lingered. The fear dripping from his sibling was contagious, and he’d not yet found the words to describe the revulsion that climbed the length of his spine. It seemed wrong, to know his brother was scared. It seemed wrong, to see him invoke the same of them all. Panic, the quiet boy decided, was not for him. So, yawning, he'd blink his sleepy eyes at his brother, wondering why he was so full of vinegar and fear.

code © cala // art © drifter

i fear no evil

At the point of daybreak, Seneca is sleeping soundly in the back of the den. It's the point when he sleeps most heavily, having spent much of the night patrolling as he typically does in the peak of summer, and he does not wake at the first symptom of unease outside the entrance.

It isn't until @Promætheus's paw is jabbing bodies away that Seneca is pulled from the depths of his slumber, grumbling softly and rolling to face the pile of cubs. He blinks bleary eyes at his smallest son, taking in the concern written across his features. "What is it?" he mumbles, lifting his chin enough to right his skull and peer quietly at sloth-like @Artæmis and still slumbering Scorpis. And... wait. "Where is your sister?"

the shadow is mine, and so is the valley

code by corvus

A mother’s worst nightmare—sprung from the darkness of ill slumber, her son’s voice rocked the sovereign from sleep. It shattered the lull of dreams and fatigue, and drew ice throughout her veins. She felt her husband stir before she could, heard the shuffling of their sons, as she counted their striped figures in the low light of the den. Her husband’s query hung in the air, and the heat of worry strangled her voice. Instinctively, as though that unseen assailant would come nearer and snatch up another of her children, she clung to her boys ever-nearer. She pulled @Promætheus firstly, and then Artaemis—further from the doorway, further from the danger. Her heart panged, though she bade her mood to soften, be as malleable as clay. Worked into a calmness, for their sake and for that of her husband. We’ll find her, she placated to the two sons that were awake, softly speaking so not to rouse the third.

artaemis is as a rock at his side, if rocks were capable of being grumpy and miserable. silent, they are though, and so are both brothers as prometheus attempts to come to terms with the disappearance of their sister, swallowing thickly and flicking blue eyes between the presence of his brother and the absent space that she had lingered in. he doesn't have any words to answer artie's silent query, shaking his blunt skull jerkily side to side. no, nothing, gone, not here.

maroon shoulders tense, nerves jumping along his black-striped spine as the cub prickles and bristles like an aardwolf, flinching away from the sudden, deep timbre of @Seneca's voice. ( what is it? ) — that's what prometheus would like to know. ( where is your sister? ) — the question is related, and he understands that, understands that she's gone, that the mist took her, but not where she went. where she is.

he attempts to muster the strength to open his jaw, to speak and answer his father, but finds himself swept toward the warm tide of his mother, tucked against her chest. ( we'll find her ) — @Aidoneus' affirmation, and he softens, quaking brought to a halt. he swallows again, blue eyes settling on the deep depths of @Artæmis' fur and seeing in it the superimposed image of the mist. " the mist, it ate her, " he announces, unaware in his childish way that it sounds unreal.

Mist don’t eat. he frowned, pulling his face towards their sire. He fixed himself there, watching whatever may shift across @Seneca’s face. He felt the warmth of his mother, feeling the tug of her embrace and steeled himself against her touch.

Instead, he leaned out, teetering towards the mouth of their den to see for himself.

Squinting, his little glower watched the pale gossamer vapour passing through the Oasis. He couldn’t understand, it did not make sense. It was no tangible beast, it was not like them. How could mist have an appetite? How could it eat their sister? His lips frowned deeper, the minutiae of his cherubic moon-touched face drawn heavy into a skeptical expression.

Don’t be a baby. He chided to @Promætheus, frustrated by what was obviously a tall tale.

code © cala // art © drifter

i fear no evil

ooc: figured we could keep this short & sweet so we can move on to a search thread!

He is not fool enough to believe that there is a lack of unease in @Aidoneus, much as the same uncertainty somersaults in his own gut, but she hides it well — for the sake of their children. The sleep sheds away quickly now that he has been roused, his gaze settled upon @Promætheus, who makes an unsettling announcement. Diantha, too, has vanished in this strange mist, but he worries less for his elder daughter than he does for young Léonie, who does not yet have an iota of skill or strength to protect herself.

Whilst he would ordinarily agree with @Artæmis, this is some strange and new phenomenon, and Seneca is not so quick to dismiss his youngest son's proclamation. "Stay here," he rumbles lowly, getting to his feet and stepping carefully over still slumbering Scorpius, his muzzle brushed against the queen's brow in passing. He slips out of the den and into the fog, chuffing out for his absent daughter when he finds that her pawprints have vanished just as Diantha's had.

exit via investigating

the shadow is mine, and so is the valley

code by corvus

Ate her? She asked, mystified.

Horror came in swift, and it made little tangible sense. Not in the way spoken by Artaemis, but she was certain her sons would not bend truths. Perhaps to his young eyes it had been the mist, but more sincerely, some lurking beast that came with it. it hitched her breath, and with the knowledge one of her brothers had come to Amaryllis, she wondered if that meant others too had come into the land.

Others with ill intentions, those that would see harm done. She knew nothing of the others disappeared, knew little of the ways of Maua or the existence of divine entities there. No, her belief was rooted in what she’d experienced, what she knew of the world and she knew it to be cruel. It had been promised the Peitho sins were absolved, that her pound was paid and she was free to exist outside of the hoard that claimed her brothers.

Shush, she’d chide the moon-marked sibling, eyes glancing towards @Seneca as he went out to search. Her heart yearned to follow, though it seemed better to watch their sons. Quieting her own fears, she sank into the company of her boys, stifling the panic so that they would be held to the same stoicism as their father. exit via waiting?? lol

The mist ate her. did it? Did it really? Artæmis was certain his brother had been dreaming, something spoken from a troubled slumber. It did not make sense. The mist had no mouth, not in the way the boy could understand. It annoyed him, and annoyed him all the more as their mother sought to swaddle them in the comfort of an embrace. He glowered as he was pulled away from the doorway. In every fibre, all he wished was to follow after his father’s levied stride. He watched him depart, longingly tracing each movement, reaching with his eyes as he went to do as good kings and leaders do—seek answers, and right the trouble. exit via pouting.

code © cala // art © drifter