SLEUTH:
+5 Infiltrate a group thread without getting caught
+10 Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread
PALDIN:
+5 observe a fight

A hiding man navigated through these land's terrain, quite, sneaky as he would cover under a bush. Using his reduced size, making it easier to cover, needing less to remain away from other's eyes and noses. And of course he had taken all the precautions, by masking his scent with sand and covering his prints, or atleast to where they could lead somone to his hidding spot. He was new to this place and he felt curious to know where the heck had Recluse came to by arriving here. But wherever Recluse went, he would follow like a moth to light. Like a mosquito to blood. Slittered pupils following each lion and the fight aswell.

He's attempting to be hidden

Hiding roll:

Rolling 1d2: 1

1(cant be discovered) 2(Can be discovered in that thread by others, if you choose to keep hiding.)

A Lion Doesn't Concern Himself With The Opinions Of Sheep

I trust only in myself.

BARBARIAN: +5 observe a fight He'd been secluded somewhere else during the time he was able to heal from the uprising resulting wounds, Being his opponent a woman from the Rainforest. And it probably was his very own fault by going too soft on her, perhaps he saw in every lioness his mothers, he respected women more than his own wellbeing. He preferred not to lay a claw in one if he could avoid it, only when he had not other options he would but still not to the point of mauling them, just pin them or knock them down. But nothing beyond that. He cared little if someone wouldnt like that. That was how he was rised and that was how he wanted to live his life. In silence he took a seat under a palm, mindful of his sun sensitive skin. Red and pink eyes on the fight for the Lagoon's leadership.

code // art // do not use without permission

He was aware that this Lagoon was a stronghold for the Sigurn and thus, a claim on it was interesting to him. Very interesting. He was still new to these lands and was currently playing the part of a brother looking for a kind home in the Hollows so he would need to keep that up. As far as he knew, only his family members knew who he truly was. The dappled male made his way to the sand lands and walked along the edge of the gathering. He was younger than most of his family and wasn't as clued into who was part of the Sigurn family, even more so since they had been breeding here. He wondered if the ocean that surrounded them was the same one that they tossed their cubs into to please some god. To bad it seemed that god didn't want them here anymore. He allowed his eyes to wander and take in everything that he could as he walked along looking for a place to watch the fight happen. Female vs female. A waste of a good fight for sure.

TABLE BY ICE

+5 Observe a challenge and learn the results

Another challenge. On the one paw, they were becoming as common as air. On the other, they at least broke up the monotony of a day for a little while, and on the larger scale were worth attending if only to keep up to date on the status of the various prides in the land. The lagoon was less relevant to his life than the rainforest or mire, but he still found himself drifting toward the call.

Upon arrival, he would settle in amongst the small crowd, toward the back for an easy escape should the new ruler react with violence toward the spectators within the territory. He was only moderately surprised to find a somewhat familiar face - the strange woman who had recently attempted to overthrow the brook, if memory served (and it always did). The battle had already begun, and he didn't know either fighter's motivations beyond the assumed desire for authority and power.

code by corvus

Bloodied fur under her claws. It was a hit! Moderately exciting, making her heart surge as though to march with double beats. It would only be better if this lioness squealed and begged. She planted her paw, white toes splattered with crimson and spreading on sand, and heaved her massive bulk around aiming to be roughly facing what she now saw was a relatively smaller and thin-furred lioness. A much easier opponent than that brown brute from the Brook-laced pride. She snarled with delight as her jaws aimed to surge for the side of the other lioness's neck, trying to snare a grip. Meanwhile barbed limbs wrapped around her shoulders from her left, leaving slight scratches amidst the thick fur of her forelimb and deeper ones along the center of her back. Her joints lowered, centering her weight lower amidst the scrunching sand. Crooked tail, now free of its imposition between the two, flung out for balance. The deepest damage was from the bite to her scruff, recently naked and stripped of matted fur. The regrowing fur and healing, scarred skin was still tender, and offered little protection. She felt blood first hot and then quickly evaporating with a chill from deep punctures gripping into her neck.

Walpurgis vs @Ragna
Scilla Lagoon
2/5

Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 10 + 4 + 16 + 7 + 8 + 3 + 12 + 11

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 16 + 14 + 17 + 10

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 1 + 17 + 16 + 8

The mist had rolled in and clouded much of the beach that day. Chaos ensued from somewhere within the clouds - Opium could hear it. Beginning at the edge of Stygian Shore, she moved into the territory, first, taking a dip in the cool waters of the sea to scrub away as much of her family scent as possible. Then she would roll in the sand, and ignore the way the sand uncomfortably stuck to her wet fur. Shaking what she could of it off after a few minutes and happy enough with her new scent of the beach, Opium carried on, sneaking low to the ground into the thick clouds that clung to beach.

In the lagoon, there were lions fighting upon an island of sand, surrounded by shallow seawater. Nearby, there was a small thicket of palm trees and brush, and she dove inside before anyone could see her (hopefully). Keeping low to the ground and peering out with her dual-toned eyes, she spied upon the two lions fighting, almost shrouded in cloud. What happened to the Scilla lions? Why was no one here?

Having sniffed around here before, she noted the scent on the one lioness' coat from previously being from this pride, perhaps defending it from this intruder... this conqueror. She didn't know the female, but she would soon know her just by the way she fought. Her eyes followed the other, redder lioness as well. The two danced in a deadly beauty that Opium found awe-inspiring.

---

potential XP:
assassin
+5 - gather information about a character
+5 - spy on an individual exchange
+5 - practice fabricating another's scent
+5 - practice covering your scent

sleuth
+10 - remain undetected in a large thread (10+ characters)
+10 - learn something about pride/group/family relations

---

Opium is attempting to hide
Hiding Roll:

Rolling 1d2: 1

art

"Who the fuck is yelling now?" the young male growled irately and tossed his growing mane. Broad toes seized calluses on feeble, mist-swept shores. Headed toward the shore, the scrubland and dirt petered out and the footing grew unbearably soft. He'd spent the last few months holed up in the north glacier and damn did he feel tougher than he did when he went in. His leg was healed, his mane was fluffing out, and his feasts gave not only soft cub fat but oddly thick slabs of muscle. He felt like a tough guy and he walked like one too. (Actually, he walked like he had an ego complex the size of Texas, all strutting insecurity and narrowed eyes on any passing gaze. What are you looking at, punk? My glaring insecurities?)

Everyone else was going over the borders. "Well yo ho ho...." he muttered to himself and joined them. The splash of so many pride scents hurt his face with wrinkling his nose so hard. He veered to step his paws in the furrowed trails of several others. He matched pawsteps for a few strides then hopped to a parallel trail. Mostly it was fun but security was always important. Never knew when pridelanders would want to make an example of him.

By now he expected a fight and he was pretty pleased with himself to see he was right. This one wasn't male on male, though. It was one older, rough-looking female against a younger (and prettier) girl. He knew what side he was on. Actually he didn't. Cause if the pretty girl won then she'd have no time for him... but immediately he thought about what if she lost, and he happened to find and comfort her, huh? He could offer her a place in the Band and his den and stuff. He grinned to himself. "Sock the old hag! I got an impala horn on the bitch with the mask!" He leaned back recklessly on his haunches and yelled over the crowd, hoping someone would take him up on his wager. Gambling was fun... oogling babes was fun... hopefully someone besides him wanted to have some fun!

+5 Leave a trail of confusing tracks

Ragna never saw her size as a weakness, she always wanted to prove others being smaller didnt mean she was an easier opponent. She could be as good as any other. Walpurgis' moved to try facing her, jaws the larger lion's jaws approaching to the side of her neck. But she would right away attempt to slam her neck hard against Whooper's opened jaws, going for the best counter attack she could think of, she knew she could be getting injured with that, but in such a tense moment that was what mattered less in this situation. This was probably the last chance she had to claim the lagoon, atleast for now. Did she felt any pressure? A bit but she stood away from getting too high expectations, she could lose and if she did, it would be sad but with honor she will go out of here with her head tall from trying. Regardless of what others would say.

Walpurgis lowered her body, she would attempt to strengthen her bite, wanting to cause as most pain as she could, she spread her back legs to try having a more stable stance.

Ragna vs @Walpurgis
for SL
3 - 5
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 15 + 3 + 12 + 13 + 19

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 7 + 1 + 19 + 15

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 7 + 17 + 14 + 3 + 9

_{BG — ART — CODE}

Another buster knuckle bruise

There was rarely peace for long, and as usual Violarum arrives as eagerly as a lazy meatloaf could. Always with the intention to answer an unresponded challenge himself. Though, as usual, he is late. A battle was well underway, which was no surprise given the nature of their species. Always hungry for violence, eager for power.

What was surprising, was the flashing mass of grey fur within the fighting circle. Familiarity of such war-torn flesh gradually beckoning. Sif? He draws closer, curiously, ears piqued eagerly forward. It was her. His one-time lover. The woman who had so surprised him that day by the ocean; giving herself so willingly, as if he were just the lucky one who had found her at her time of lust.

He overhears the questioning of identity from a familiar Caladan Cove woman, training an ear. He knows the maned woman also, but not by name.

'Cause I'm a liquorlip loaded gun

_{— art by Rabs}

It was the sound of violence that drew him in, truthfully. Down from the mountains, he eyed the way the mist just clustered over the beach, and it piqued his interest that way it hung there, hovering over the delightful sounds of a fight shrouded within.

Of course, Caelum made a beeline straight for it. And as he drew closer to the end of the Lagoon, he could see that it had drawn others in, too. Were none of these lions afraid to be taken by these clouds?

He sure wasn't.

He was here to see a fight, and as he plopped down in the damp sand far enough away from the fight and anyone else to get upset at him, his icy eyes twinkled as the lightning fast movements of the two lionesses. Blood hung lazily in the air; this was going to be good.

---

potential XP:
barbarian
+5 - observe a fight

outlaw
+5 - learn something interesting about a pride or family (disbandment of SL / potential new leader soon)

ART