No fights in progress
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
She followed close during their long way to the rainforest, a place so new, so different to her former home. Home of ice and snow, of solitude and quietness, to now a pride. With hopefully more lions that she'd ever know in the past. She felt tired, with extra weight inside her and the weight of the worry that lurked trough her chest and mind. Eye lids heavy, hunger growling. But she would bear it as long as needed for that Astrid was the one needing help, the one who mattered the most. She and the baby would be okay, Astrid though was a different story. She hopped Maua or whoever was here able to set her back to life, to her, to them. "Thank you... @Zoticus ..." She whispered as she took a seat. |
The heavy, encumbered tracks of the large male were easy to follow, along with Pandora's familiar scent. Still he lost the trail a few times, barreling ahead only to find himself lost when his quarry made a turn. Stupid. Had to backtrack. But had to take the chance to get ahead, too. He halted, front paws planted and wrists jarring when he almost charged into a pride border. Stupid pride. Getting in his way. He snarled. He didn't know for sure whether the trail even went this way. Maybe it went around. But this pride would just have to Deal With Him cause he was coming through, colossal head setting low and his mane bristling as well as its young growth could.
Fortunately he soon picked the smell up again. Stronger, settled, and an urgent call for some pride kneeler alerted him to a possible location. He huffed and trot-plodded through the brush, cursing every tree in his way. His tongue lolled out red and creased with dry lines. He spotted @Pandora before anyone else. Bee-lined toward her. Ally. Yet despite halting at her side he gave her no personal glance or word. Her presence was a shield. She was welcome here, so he was welcome here too, right? And he would be sword for her, larger even in bone than this stranger male @Zoticus but sorely lacking in muscle and proof of scars. His ears were back inside a ruffled mane but he was unable to fix his attention anywhere but her. She seemed smaller than he remembered.
Please do not seek permission or give notice before attacking this character, but do tag after!
she catches the smell of blood first. then, the sovereign's panicked tone. he calls for others -- not her, of course -- but it is enough to catch her attention. it would not be the first time that anarchy exploded on the borders of the forest, nor would it be the first time that blood speckled these lands. but, ah, in this case it looks as though the violence happened elsewhere. zoti is flanked by two lions, able-bodied and walking, and one listless form. marred gaze lingers on her, noting the awful state the lioness seemed to be in. perhaps it was a kindness for her to be unconscious. wylodine's tail twitches, curious, but she lingers in the shadows still. if they really needed help ( if they really wanted this woman to live ), then perhaps she would step forward and assist. until then, though, she lingers uninvited -- a wraith, reserving judgement. |
code by irish |
he glances back to wylo with a grimace, clearing his throat he inclines his head to the two able-bodies souls. "
could you clean them up, if they need it?" dorian bids gently, sure the woman could handle cleaning any wounds they have and ( hopefully ) keeping them busy while he helps with the more serious concern.
"
what happened?" he asks softly, face drawn as he carefully manipulates the lioness' head, testing the stiffness in her neck and gently touching the lump on her skull. ouch. swallowing his uncertainty, he shoves a bundle of baby bush at his king and demands he chew it into pulp. he pulls out some baobab bark and lays it at zoticus' paws for him to spit the poultice onto. he readies some aloe leaves and leaves a mix of chewed leaves and white weed flowers mixed together in front of the woman for when she wakes.
as zoticus presumably chews the baby bush, the medic carefully applies the bark, poultice side down, to the worst of the wounds before smearing remaining poultice to the smaller wounds.
a gold-touch stranger sweeps onto the scene with the fluster of a medic. it’s a look she’s seen many times before and immediately her weight shifts, happy to let @Dorian take over here. a frown touches her lips when instead of doing just that, he gives her a task first. psh. it’s a good thing that she knows what she’s doing, lest he might’ve left them in incapable hands. but no matter what she was, wylodone was not incapable. attention shifts away from the injured woman to instead @Pandora and @Aurochs — quirking a brow to either of them. well? she asks, an impatient click of her tongue. do either of you need to be cleaned up? the teen seemed defensive and the white-pelted woman simply looked like shit. still, marred gaze sweeps across their respective figures, searching for any signs of blood or injuries. if nothing was obviously wrong with them, then it’d be up to them to speak up to get their band-aids. |
code by irish |