It seemed… odd to her to have to come to challenge for her ancestral home. The Valour family had held these grounds for generations with few exceptions. One was that bastard that took her home when she was merely a yearling, and now it was this bastard from the Plains. As night fell over the land, Cassandra prepared to make her way from where she’d been hiding and scoping things out throughout the day. The Brook seemed quite a bit smaller than when the Valours had ruled. Good. Perhaps this new bastard wasn’t that great of a leader if so few had come to join him. The Brook had thrived under her leadership and that of her uncle and aunt in the past. It was time for the Valour family to reclaim what was rightfully theirs once again. The Brook belonged to the natives, and she would fight over and over to reclaim the land for her family again. No matter what, she would keep coming back until she reigned victorious over what belonged to the Natives.

Night crept further over the land, and thunder rumbled overhead. ’Perfect.’ She thought, figuring that the thunder would mask her pawsteps and movement within the lands a bit more. She was well-versed in the knowledge of this land - she’d been born and raised within its borders and knew it like the back of her paws. It enabled her ability to move more stealthily within the lands, and she would make her way to the clearing she’d often called pride meetings at. By the time she’d reached the clearing, rain had started to fall and she relished the feel of the rain along her pelt.

Thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed once.

Then again.

And then alongside the rumble of thunder that came before the next lightning, a loud roar of challenge left the Valour-Greyflood as she stood proudly within what was sacred ground to the natives. She had only one goal. Reclaim the Brook for the natives and for those who had once called the pride home. The brown lioness knew she had failed the members of the pride once. But never again would she fail them. She would do whatever it took to regain their trust and keep them safe within what should’ve been sacred ground. And this would be the first thing she did to attempt to make amends with those who had been left behind.

Her mother had made it clear - she was allowed to try to take back the Brook for the natives. But she would do this properly and the way it should be done. No weakening the pride beforehand, and no backhanded moves like had been done to wrest the pride from her family's paws in the first place. No... she would fight with honor and with dignity. The way a pride should be fought for.


Cassandra vs. @Renfri
For Vermeda Brook
Round 0 / 5
Hits: [roll=#d20]
Dodges: [roll=#d20]
Luck: [roll=#d20]

text. "speech."

Art & Code by Zodiac

She hadn't been there before. But now, freshly scarred from her own foolish idea, she was. She couldn't help find the Valour a new home but turns out she could help them reclaim their rightful one. And maybe that means there is a reason she hadn't succeeded with her own endeavor. This should be a family affair in the end shouldn't it? Her blue form moves without hesitation after the call is sounded. Along her shoulders come carried the lingering pain, the fear, of the fight in Scilla. Dio knows she might be marching right into another and she cannot hesitate. A life time of physical pain would still be less than knowing she had failed her family again with her absence.

Dio approaches to stand, at a safe distance, from Cassandra's back, in clear support of her cousin. Adding in her own call to the sky, voice rumbling and rolling for the mortals and dead. Let them watch. Let every god that has followed their supporters into this land see. Maua, lend Cassandra your strength. I give her mine. Guide her paw and steel her will. I feel you. Dio thinks to herself as she feels a radiating warmth in her chest that she can only attribute to Maua's presence here today.

( Dio is trespassing / Open to fights per orange pvp rules )_{CODE | BACKGROUND}

this country knew no peace but war and violence. ever since her grandmother's challenge faustine had taken it upon herself to attend every battle for the throne, no matter the cost. this was just a pleasant surprise to be among the few to be here first, before the sovereign could answer the challenger's call. faustine knew little of the brook besides it being a decent place to live in. there was plenty of water to attract prey to the stronghold, but not enough to shelter the pride from invaders and foul weather. faustine wondered what prompted this woman to fight for it when she could have went for the hollows or even the summit.

though it was best to not cross the brooks border, faustine just couldn't care anymore in this regard. it was a challenge for the throne and she would rather join in on the fun every once in a while. her smile lingered, bigger than it should be, as she searched for willing faces.

ooc: open for battle!

code: cala | art: drifty

A challenge had been made for rulership of a pride, a sound that rang out, a blissful sound once landed upon his ears. It would be an opportunity for the Crows to finally shine, to potentially stand on the battlefield, weighed with promised wealth in return for services rendered.

He would call for the band to inform them of this opportunity, though it was up to them if they wished to partake. He should like to think them enticed, for what purpose would they have joined if not to unleash their fighting prowess upon the field?

Venturing towards the Brook, Fissure would settle himself comfortably on the sidelines for the time being, in plain view of those gathered. He knew of the lioness being challenged, but he would not choose sides in the conflict. Winter was coming, and it was his hope that he might serve the side that might secure for his Band the necessary supplies to see them through the cold months.

And I'm feeling good

Birds flying high, You know how I feel, Sun in the sky, You know how I feel, Breeze driftin' on by, You know how I feel, It's a new dawn, It's a new day, It's a new life, For me

code by corvus

Bordeaux had spent the length of the afternoon resting, having not felt well that day. Having slept so long, she found herself awake in the night, feeling the tether that bound her falling away. She felt better now, moving from her den to eat a small meal from the food cache. Fissure would arrive to speak of potential work, and while her part in it might not require her to go, she found little reason to stay here.

Gathering up her newly mended medicine bag, she would follow after the band leader, eyes gazing skyward to observe the gathering storm. Would it rain this night? Bordeaux hoped not, for the air was cold, even against her coat of long fur, becoming thick with winter fur.

Arriving near the pride border she would find a quiet space in which to sit and observe the goings on. For now, the place stood mostly empty, but she imagined many were already on their way here. She pray it was an honorable fight, absent rival prides taking the opportunity to fight amongst themselves. Pity then that none ever answered such prayers when they came from her.

Setting her bag down beside her, she would take a moment to look around, noting a few herbs that could be of some use to her should she need to tend one of the Crows later. She would watch also for familiar faces, one in particular.

code by corvus

The Firnen woman had been on her way to the passage when the call rang out - an ear turning towards the Brook with curiosity. The rain overhead was likely one of the last of the season before it turned to sleet and snow.. but the red giant found it...poetic. She approached the borders - her gaze landing on the woman challenging and recognizing her as an Illyrian from a few meetings in the passage. It wasn't the challenger she was here for - but @Diomedeidae that caught her attention.

Moving towards her, she also tresspassed in moving to the side of the younger woman, a chuff of greeting as bi-colored gaze searched the others face. "Dio...I've been worried.." Her tones were soft, but it appeared at least to outward purposes that the lioness retained vision in both of her eyes - something that had been up in the air since the Scillan challenge. Gaze turned towards the lioness who had called for this fight and wondered where the pride was.

Fur lifted around her nape, her ruff growing in preparation for anything. Though she knew there had been some friendliness between Firnen and Lorien - Kireena wasn't sure if the same extended now that it was the Brook.. and the purple bastard wasn't in charge. Still, she kept alert - watching... waiting.

---

Kireena tresspassing and open for fights! :)

ART BY VASILIA, CODE BY LARS

Orei Saxe

Sleepy eyes blink in confusion, cozy amongst the warm bodies of his siblings. The thunder and lightning cracked around them, the sound of someone’s loud mouth along with it. Brows furrow, absolutely pissed to have his beauty sleep disturbed not only by the rain but by someone making a bunch of racquet outside. What kind of crazy lions had his family invited in for them to be making so much noise right now? Quickly untangling himself from where the rest of them slept, he slips out of the den. He cringes against the cold droplets that soak his fur as he winds around the tall grasses. A scowl etched into his features as he trudges through the increasingly wet earth, boy would he have some choice words for whoever was out here.

Coming out into the clearing, jaw hangs open in shock at the array of lions that gathered in his home. None of them smelled right, even with the rain muddying the smells. None of them smelled like home. Who were these lions? Why were they in his home? His mind races a mile a minute, frozen in place as his eyes shift from each and every lion that gathered in the storm. One in particular stands in the middle, the lioness that must have woken him up. Dual toned gaze bores into her, unsure of what is going on. Too young to understand why they were here, but absolutely pissed about it. Finding his feet again, the youngest Saxe slinks around the outskirts of the clearing inching towards the two lionesses that sat behind the big brown lady.

Puffing out his tiny chest, his own makeshift roar rips from his still developing vocal chords as he charges towards the big red lady ( @Kireena ) and the smaller abyss lady ( @diomedeidai ) "Out! Out!" he screeches, before stopping just in front of the two of them. Chin jutted upwards as he huffs at them, dual toned eyes shifting from one lioness to the other. Expecting one of them to give him some kind of explanation as to why this was happening and what they were doing here.

"speech."

code by corvus

If he'd been able to sleep through the storm, he might have thought it was a nightmare. Even still, it took a moment for the realization to hit - that the roar was not some kind of weird thunder and that danger had, again, found his home. The knot of anxiety in his gut formed so quick he nearly lost his dinner. If they lost this place...where else was there to go? How long would it take to find everyone again? Would they even still want him around by then?

Elio allowed himself a quiet whine before he emerged from the small shelter he'd found when the hints of a storm had begun, moving carefully through the territory he hadn't quite learned yet. He wasn't the first arrival, but that was perfectly fine. Less fine was the fact all those present were unfamiliar faces. He swallowed roughly as he came to a sudden halt well away from the collection of strangers.

And then a little voice raised over the rumble of the storm and Elio's stomach did that complicated flip again. A cub, that looked so much like Renfri he had to be one of the new cubs. "Oh no," soft, little more than a breath to himself before he found himself moving (quite against his better judgment and the terrified voice screeching in the back of his brain) toward the boy (@Orei). "S-stop," it faltered at first and grew a little stronger in the last half, "it's not- not safe," oh he was going to be sick - pastel eyes wide, folded ears pinned back as far as they could go, he did not make a brave figure, but the young cub was more important than his terror in the face of the stranger - a giant like his (their?) father. Elio would attempt to grab the child gently by the scruff and quickly backpedal away from the possibly-deadly stranger.

the storm rages overhead and the call isn't meant for her but she comes anyway. léontine nudges @Ludivine ♔ and then makes her way into the brook proper, skirting along the borders before finding a place that she decides is as good as any to dive in. and in she goes, streaking through the underbrush and splashing mud up onto herself. it's easy to continue to work to mask her scent, covering the roguish scent that clings to her, painting herself with the mud and letting the downpour of rain to dampen the senses.

she intends to be a ghost among them, this evening.

so she's soft and quiet as she approaches, settling in on her her stomach with her forepaws tucked under her chest, she lowers her head to peer through the brush, luminous gaze hard as it flits from lion to lion, noting their faces, the way they react. so far the other woman is alone in her challenge - and léo can't wait to see who comes in to answer.

léo is attempting to hide!

EXECUTION FANTASY

+10 (5x2) Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds
+10 (5x2) Use the terrain to your advantage
+20 (10x2) Explore a territory and find something useful in it

Parvati believed there was no such thing as honor, but those who scorned it were yet the more dangerous. The Summit could be trusted. Parvati greatly owed them, and yearned for their return to the Brook. Over the seasons they had not become accustomed to the cold. So, being tipped off as to the challenge, the silver lion naturally wished Cassandra to win. But not this way. Not through violence. There was no other way, they knew; they had been told.

Grudgingly again they tread forward against backward customs and stubborn fate.

The storm's thunder grates in their ears and nerves throb between their toes. Parvati feels them itching in the spaces between the lightning. Something smells like burnt rock. New glass. Seared wood. Scents rise from the rain. They worried about the scent and sight of the leaf-wrapped herbs they carried with them. When Cassandra crossed the borders, Parvati sheered off to not follow directly (but still trespassing) but seeking what dense greenery remained in the progress of autumn to hide their bundle therein.