Revenge is a dish that tastes bittersweet beneath her lungs as the roman zealot shells amongst her pedestal. Victory had been given to her with little to no thought behind a hazy mind - she did not care for the win, but rather for the thrill that it would bring. Though, where the thrill settles pain takes its place. Wrestling the shawl woman in a bath of maroon and crimson - she feels everything at once. For the way, the alabaster bone moved unnervingly beneath his skin in a taut and unwelcoming feel. The pain was not something she was foreign too, and yet, this kind of suffering was nearly unbearable. But damn it, she had won - and if that accounted for anything it added itself to the long list of sin she would commit within the garden. Serpentine, the woman retracts with the taste of blood upon her lips. A forbidden wine only the greeks would see fit for her to indulge in but nonetheless, a drink she would never get tired of.

Neèra struggles. Shuffling in an awkward manner to roll herself over unto her belly. Taking mere moments to survey the damage before rising with a gaited grin and lifted wounds. "Neèra" she offers nothing more than her name, languid eyes testing the waters of sin and virtue as she cradles her fractured bones close to her bosom. "Feisty one are you, no?" it is the most she has spoken in an ages time, and yet it is needed to leave alive. "You fight well." A pause bates her breathes as a wince coil amongst the woman's features. Twisting her brows in an unsatisfied grimace before turning back to her adversary. "A shame that such a pretty woman attacks you before the first date, though. You at least could've taken me out for dinner, a kiss maybe even - before breaking my fucking ankle" She pours salt in the wound almost incredulously, as if she is teasing her for her own sinful thoughts. "I stay. It is not a request. It was never a request, but rather a poignant demand. "I earned it - I stay." She had earned it. Bested the woman amongst her own games, if anything - that seemed to account for more than a simple kiss upon the cheek and a bid Farewell before being chased out of their lands. Damn it, she would fight her again to prove it.

The threat hangs heavy in the air, Erna's muscles burning and twitching under her thick northern coat, ready to launch her forward once more if the trespasser decides to disregard the warning. Fortunately ( for @Neèra ), she sings her truth like a bird would sing in spring. The name given tells her nothing. The bearish wench wouldn't trust a word this woman said nonetheless what it was. Erna remained wary, as per usual, but even more so now for a stranger slithering in like a snake, blatantly disregarding borders, would set anyone on edge. In truth, Erna should be digging her teeth into the woman's neck and choking out the life out of her.

Scarred lips peel up in a warning snarl when the trespasser names her feisty, evidently showing that Neèra was in no position to be this bold. Not when she was in the depths of a land full of men and women who could tear her to shreds for trying to slip in unnoticed. "You fight well." I don't need you to tell me what I already know, schlange. The Rike woman already knew she was a skilled warrior. Coarse voice tore menacingly as the banshee spat blood and saliva to the side. The trespasser continues to speak, continuously disrespecting Erna and showing little care for the position she was in. The long-haired northerner could imagine tearing into her neck, silencing her for good. Date? Kiss? What the hell was she blabbing about? Cut the crap, I can't listen to you run your mouth all fucking day, she snarled, evidently annoyed with all the beating around the bush.

"I stay," she says! She's got some nerve. A step forward, the hair on her back bristling now, Erna continues to growl. Stay? Earned? Was this woman taking them for a bunch of idiots? Was she so out of her mind to assume she can have whatever she wanted? I would choke you to death before I let you remain here. Claws unsheathed, biting the wet ground below. Tell me one good reason to even let you live after breaking into the pride lands? Hopefully, Neèra would understand the crime she had just committed - one which Erna ( or any Ecrosian sane enough ) would not easily forgive. Not only did she enter Alric's lands without calling for an audience, but she demands that she stayed here. Alaric and Erna both had plenty of enemies, who says they wouldn't send a spy?

_{ART — CODE}

It is the nerve that is stricken that brings delight to the ashen woman. Irritation is something she seems to drink of- thrive off of if you will. Even as she treads amongst the corners of death and life, the thrill of sinking is much more enticing than it should be as Neèra's lips quirk upwards. "Temper. Temper." As if breaking her wrist was not enough. She seems to add fuel to the ever-growing flames, knowingly marking herself as enemy unto the Rike woman's slate of Proverbs. She stays! Yes. Yes. Delightful, she stays despite the protest. It is with a shift of shrugging shoulders and a viper's gaze that the woman's forked tongue spills from salmon caverns to swipe the taste of crimson blood. It adds insult to injury. You ask too many questions Had she not proven her right of passage? Given more than enough information way to be welcomed amongst their parade? Perhaps...the one and only good reason is... she pauses to glance towards the leopard watching from sidelines. Not having regarded @Nusura's presence until now.I just beat your ass. It is but a whisper unto the wind. If Neèra had balls - well, shit they had certainly dropped here.

But I'm sure that doesn't matter to you. - It doesn't. Not within the way that her hostility still shows, making Neèra wonder if it is simply because of her loss or the fact that she was overly paranoid. I've proven my strength to you, have I not? That should be more than enough reason to give way to her demands to stay. As far as I am concerned. A pride needs strength and numbers. I've proven to you that I am a willing fighter, is that not what you need? Willing, strong, and devout followers? She is not familiar with their patriarchs, for a mercenary works for themselves and no one else - but for what it counted. If they required her allegiance to be pledged to stay, she would do so stubbornly. However - if you insist that I be gone. Well - I bid you adieu. My strengths can be utilized further...elsewhere. And with this, the sooten woman would turn to the silken spider upon the shadows. Moving as a rocking ship to attempt to take her to leave elsewhere. She would not be gone for long though.

Neèra is attempting to leave unless stopped
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
_{Leaving it as an attempted exit due to shan wanting Alaric to intercept <3
@Alaric @Erna}

chaos pulls him like a moth to the flame -- he arrives in time to hear the angry voices in the wake of what was clearly a brutal fight. alaric takes in the sight and gleans what he can, from the obviously injured limb of a rogue to his wife, livid and spitting like a pissed off kitten.

"what the hell is going on here," his voice a growl as he sought to stop the rogue from leaving, placing himself between her and her path. his gaze swept to his wife with a quirk of his brow, wondering just how much of this situation had been warranted and how much was caused by the short temper of the rike woman.

not that he faulted her -- this was a stranger in their pride, and they had new cubs in the den.

"who are you and what are you doing in my prideland?" by the stormy expression it was clear he wanted answers, and quick.

@Neèra @Erna

where innocence burns in flames

i'm frozen to the bones

image by yumpy, code by corvus

@Neèra continues to prod the bear with a stick, playing on the last bit of nerves that Erna had. The answer she gives was the last straw. Beat her ass? Another snarl, a last warning and portrayal of her boiling point. As if the previous four weren't enough for the dense woman to understand. Even now, as the trespasser was clutching her broken limb, she continued to display such arrogance and stupidity. To Erna, there was only one loser here and it certainly wasn't herself. Her tense muscles flinch, and as she is about to jump and maul Neèra for good, a booming voice halts her midway.

Alaric was intercepting the rogue. She could've dealt without him - he certainly had better things to do than bother with this wench. The quirk in her husband's brow prompts her to spit out: Ich habe die Schlampe dabei erwischt, wie sie sich eingeschlichen hat. Sieht aus, als wäre sie eine Spionin. Why else would she come in unannounced and so refuse to leave? She followed to stand behind the trespassing female, now sandwiching her between herself and @Alaric.

_{ART — CODE}

the earth shuffles beneath polished laces, pulling the woman of the brash shawl and emerald naught deeper unto its fray as she observes the riches of annoyance prior to her leave. oh how delightful it was to get under the skins of putrid and pungent women. it brought more joy to her than simply skinning the hides of rabbits and taking their bones for later decor. she is a challenge that neera so willingly goes up against without hesitation, a duel worthy of keeping her times in order and weapons readied at the hip - and even as she turns her back upon the rike woman. a tantalizing sway of her hips is granted, almost as if she is teasing the woman. can't get me. and get her she cannot - for the moments of swallowtail songs comes to an end with an abrupt and punctual demand. yet - this time, from a man. so....they did have some better eye candy around here. not that @Nusura wasn't enough. just...men were always more...delicious than the ignorance of a woman. she does not quiver within his hazy gaze, nor pay heed unto the woman's strange and unfamiliar tongue. she could parade gifts all day too - and still, be lesser than what neera had proven upon their soil. she would be second best. it is a silent, mental promise the witch makes as hazy amethysts peer unto wired emerald with a matched determination. neèra is my name. formalities, formalities, how fickle they were. why couldn't everyone just relax and get their titties together instead of in a taut knot? she had crossed upon borderlands, but not to her own accord. oh no. never. well...maybe just a little. i was spat out here, not on my own accord. simply passing through to find out where the fuck I am. she trails her uninjured foot against the mog with a tilt of her head towards the gathering mists. then once more a glance is spared towards @Erna's wounded face before resuming her focus upon @Alaric's queries. cette chienne attacked me before I could even get to the other side. seems to have hurt her pride a bit to have lost to a commoner though. she holds her comment of poor kitty back with an unmatched sense of self-control, something that is frequently rare within her vocabulary. a cheap shot on a deaf woman, yet with fairground - and I won. For my prize. I wished to stay. a fair fight was hardly something the say - she had been ambushed in the likes of malice and pride but she still beat the shit out of her. Broken ankle or not. but. she does not want me here. so - I go, unless you object?

nusura A sickening snap and the guttural sounds of pain and glee (on Erna’s part) make Nusura wince, but she holds herself back with a strain visible in her muscles as the two impetuous women cock verbal sword strikes at one another. The back and forth quickly becomes tiring, particularly as the rogue seems to have an abundance of words and no way to stop them from pouring out of her mouth. The more she says, the more Nusura is certain that Erna was in the right by intercepting her. By the time Alaric bursts forward, Nusura realizes a grimace has rested itself on her face. She could almost laugh as the two women try to explain themselves like foxes caught in the henhouse, although she had no idea what language Erna began spewing. After Neera finished, Nusura was thoughtful, not knowing if Alaric even realized she was present. Even so, she stepped forward a tad, tilting her quirked brow in the approximate direction of the rogue. Specifically she thinks to keep their names concealed for the moment, just in case Erna was correct in her assumptions about the woman being some sort of spy. Privately Nusura was a bit worried by the bear woman's rabid paranoia. What had her so concerned about spies, in the first place? This one does run at the mouth, Lord. One can scarcely figure where she keeps so much wit.. There was a twinge of humor in the dulcet voice, but anyone who had exchanged words with Nusura would note the difference from her usual warmth. Tail lashing at her heels. She would be willing to help the rogue with that injury, provided she could stuff it for long enough and keep the flirtations to herself. But it was all entirely up to their illustrious sovereign, now. Nusura deferred to him, as one does. @Alaric @Erna @Neèra

well, well, well -- that was a pickle, wasn't it? alaric showed no emotion to the gathered group (three, he realized, having focused so much on the two combatants he had missed the presence of nusura entirely) but listened. listened and took in all that was to be said. @Erna's emotional tirade earns only a snappish "das ist genug" that's enough and the woe-is-me words of the stranger earned barely a passing look.

@Nusura seems to be the voice of reason, and for her he has a half-grin, reading her body language as much as her words. for a woman with little sight she has already proven to be valuable, and when he finally looks to the newcomer with more seriousness he has at least an idea of what has happened.

"tell me, @Neèra, do you have no respect for borders? ours are very clearly marked, after all, and yet here you are..." a sweep of his paw to indicate that they were very obviously inside them. "what do you mean by spat out? why are you here. I may not be so quick to assume you are a spy as my wife is, but tell me why i should let you stay. tell me why you want to be here." a good fight wasn't an automatic win in his books, but he was intrigued by the feisty female.

where innocence burns in flames

i'm frozen to the bones

image by yumpy, code by corvus

ooc: you can skip her for the time being so we can get this moving <3

Only @Alaric's words manage to stop Erna from throtling the ugly ench into oblivion. Even so, @Neèra continues to run her mouth, and if Alaric wasn't here, the Rike woman would be charging to break her other ankle now. Erna's husband inquires more of the trespasser, while @Nusura chimes in to confirm and subtly take on Erna's side. The bearish female casts the medic an unreadable glance, only now noticing the piebald woman was present. Her heartbeat begins to calm down. Whether Neèra manages to weave her way inside the Mire or not, she would certainly get her punishment. Erna will make certain of it.

_{ART — CODE}

She doesn't regard the other vagrant bitches words, they mean little to her in these times. They are nothing more than bystanders, for the real king has arrived and what their tongues say will not cast a verdict unto her case unless approved by the sultry male. No regard for borders - oh no, darling, hardly that. Neèra feigns innocents, hoping to make it seem more convincing than any other lies she could've spewed before serpentine tongues. Yet - instead, she aims to sweep her own forefront paw against the gathering fog before them. Spat out by the means of this serpentine mist of yours of course. She had come through them prior to entering Amaryllis, and just so happened to make her own choice to cross unto the borders. It brought me here. One minute I am foraging for herbs, then poof here I am being swallowed whole by your hellfire. As tragic as it can sound, Neèra had willingly fallen victim to the mist, studying its properties for the likeness of poisons and potions that would make for a hellish downfall of those worthy of her wares. A mercenary had to keep their throes of knowledge stocked after all, and what better way to add unto the compendium than exploring the strange fogs that take the living with little regard. Why do I want to be here? I can do you one better, lord - why should be here would be more suitable. To piss your bitch off perhaps, but now that isn't a good enough response. I believe you could use me, my knowledge, strength. I am skilled in the art of poisons and silent killing - what bargains you have upon the heads of others who have wronged you.. A stagnant and eerie silence breaks the air in a murky and hot seem. I can dispose of them cordially, in a manner where their deaths would be nothing more than a mystery. Providing a clean record from your pride's head, in the sense of blame.

@Alaric