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Daffupanda rolled 5 4-sided dice:
1, 2, 3, 4, 1
Total: 11 (5-20)
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 Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 8:54 am
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Jovi of Shadows rolled 5 4-sided dice:
4, 4, 4, 4, 3
Total: 19 (5-20)
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 8:56 am
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 9:12 am
 It was raining again.
Of course it was raining again. It never bloody well stopped.
Kenna stared up at the sky with a scowl on her face, having taken cover under one of the natural coves provided by protruding rocks. Her stay so far had been quite interesting; it was enriching to learn how another pride did things, finding out that while some things differed from her own upbringing in the desert, some things were the same.
She idly wondered if these, essential things, were always the same, more or less, no matter the pride, or if it was just that these lions (which strongly reminded her of the Mistweavers... on steroids), were simply special that way. Still, the rain was a hassle. Her red hued eyes narrowed, her lips pulling back into a silent snarl as she looked up at the dark, thunderous clouds. The wet terrain was hard for her to get used to, to work in her favor. She was so used to battling and sparring over the shifting sands of the desert that the change was quite jarring. But then again, they said that practice made perfect. She'd persevere.
As soon as it stopped raining as much, she figured she'd get up and walk her way back to her new den, where she'd little doubt Zaphod would be waiting, in probable need of a good grooming.
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 9:35 am
 It truly was raining again. Nothing brought a smile to his face like the familiarities of home, and thunderstorms just so happened to be one such thing. Having lived in exile for a year in the rogue lands, Brandr had come to appreciate the constant rain- okay, sort of. He didn't like his wet braids smacking him constantly but he was no flower-blood. An annoyance yes, but not at all something to fuss about.
In fact, Brandr was headed in the direction of the sparring sands. He'd been a reaver before his personal exile after a lost holmgang, and he'd like to regain that title. That meant practicing, rain or shine, and eventually being taken out on a-viking again. Soon, he told himself. But not quite yet. His claws still needed honing before that!
It was while he was walking that a gleam caught his attention. Lightning struck, and during that darkness he'd seen two red-orbs light up in the gloom. His step paused, curiosity gripping him. "Its a good day to die", he called out, wondering just who was hiding from the storm.
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 9:54 am
As lightning streaked across the sky, it illuminated the form of an approaching male; his pelt dark and his mane dark red. He would've made a fine firekin, with such a lovely coat.
The lioness found herself chuckling at her own thoughts, her head shaking a few times before she directed her attention elsewhere. It was probable she wouldn't have paid him much mind if he hadn't spoken to her; live and let live, she'd decided upon entering the pride. Babysteps.
His words, however, drew her attention again, and the lioness allowed herself a small smile (more of a smirk, really, for her features were too harsh, too jagged), "Indeed," she replied, though her eyes sought out the sky once more, "Some of us are much more used to the dryness of the desert though. So much rain is odd," here, there was hardly any need to fight for water. Back home, however, water had been primordial. Many fights and wars had been fought for the precious resource, which was so abundant here.
"I find the similarities between my home pride and this one... amusing. The differences are jarring though," she inclined her head, "My name is Kenna, and you are? I'm afraid I'm rather new. I don't know most of you by name. Yet."
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 10:11 am
He couldn't quite see into the dark little hovel, except for a skewed outline of a feline shape, but by the sound of her voice she was female. "Ah, an outlander then? I'm Brandr, and it sounds like you're a long way from home", he replied with a pleasantness. He'd always enjoyed meeting those who'd won their way in. The outside world had been something of a mystery to him in early years, but he'd gotten a feel for the rogue lands during his exile and wasn't eager to return to such a lifestyle.
"I can't imagine what it must have been like in the desert, but you'll get used to the rain eventually. Everyone does." The way it made the rocks and hard earth slippery though, he didn't think he'd recommend her to the cliffs just yet. That just spelled disaster.
He glanced once in the direction he had been heading, but decidedly was much more curious about this new female. Sparring could wait when the ladies were around, of course. "And just what is similar? I've raided many a pride, but I'll admit I know very little about those who make their home in the desert", he told her, stepping closer to close the gap and make conversation easier in the rain. Now... if only he could get a good look at this lovely lady.
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 10:24 am
She chuckled as her only response to his first few words; a long way indeed. The Firekin and the Stormborn were oposites in a lot of ways but strangely similar too, which was ironic given the god they claimed to descend from. Stories of the Mistweavers and their storm god came to him, and Kenna shook her head slightly. Finar-si help them all, the irony might kill her.
Her ear flickered as a droplet of water fell upon it, causing her to grunt and decide that braving the storm was much better than laying down in the dark all alone, "It's the opposite of this," she claimed as she finally came out from under the refuge the rocks provided; her pelt swiftly became dark red, her large form stopping a few paces away from him as she lifted her head heavenward and closed her eyes. The water fell over her face, getting stuck in the cars that ran over her nose and cheeks, "A lot of sun, a lot of heat, and a dangerous lack of water. Here, there's a dangerous amount of water. It's quite interesting. What we Firekin sought out most was water, for it gave us life. Here, it can kill you," she chuckled again, "It's rather and interesting comparison."
Another flash of lightning allowed her to get a better look at him; his form seemed battle worn, mature, and it made her grin, "We have a similar system in place," she told him, "The kin of Fire of allows those that fight, and win their way into the pride to stay. We duel. We live to fight. But..." she lifted a paw, her claws unsheathed, mostly due to her having to grip against the terrain and rock to avoid slipping on the wet surface, "We fight on dry sand, the dunes of the desert. I admit the change of scenery while interesting, is driving a wedge in my skills," Kenna lowered her paw down and looked the make in the eye, "What would you recommend?"
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 12:50 pm
He could hear her words, and he might have responded to them if his eyes weren't glued on the giant that had stepped forth from the cave. Admittedly he wasn't so sure she was female after seeing her... him? He found himself nodding her words, listening half-heartedly as he was still rather preoccupied. Just how did a female get that big? And not just big! Fit. Was this some kind of joke? Perhaps she was a he that just had too many flowers in their blood, lost their mane and was talking with a higher pitch? Dumbfounded he realized the lull in the conversation was meant for him to respond, and he quickly cleared his throat, though it did not save him from his big mouth.
"Mrost's dangling balls, you're a big'un, aren't ya?" Stormborn women came in all shapes and sizes, yes, but this was just unheard of! Now that he'd gotten a better look at her, and could see definition under the red and black coat, and the thin scars that marred it, he was positive this was unlike any other female he had met before. Gathering his wits about him, Brandr composed himself, allowing himself to look her back in the eye, a baffled smirk plastering itself onto his maw. "If that's the case, I can think of only one thing to recommend."
His stance changed then as he allowed himself to circle a few paces away from her. "Normally spars are held on the sands of the beach, but if its stone and earth that's giving you a problem, I can think of no other way to remedy it." So he was curious? They could call him a coward for fighting a female if they wanted too, but obviously this... womanfolk, was not your average lioness. His muscles bunched in anticipation, awaiting her response before starting. "Show me what a Firekin is made of", he enticed, interest clearly flared. Were all females from her old pride this large? Or was she special? He had to wonder as he'd not heard much about them!
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Posted: Mon Feb 17, 2014 2:25 am
Kenna was unsure what she'd been expecting him to say, or how she'd been expecting him to react to her. After all, different Stormborn tended to react to her in different ways; from actual hostility, to amusement, to eagerness due to wanting to challenge her. Still, his comment made her stop, her expression showing her surprise at his choice of words. Said surprise, however, soon enough vanished, replaced with amusement and she couldn't help the laughter that flowed forth, "My, my. you better hope Mrost never hears you," she chuckled at him, sitting her rump down on the wet floor.
Her nose wrinkled at his suggestion however, "That would not really help my problem. Avoidance of a problem is not a solution," she let out a small sigh as she shook her head; in the end it seemed it'd all come down to time, patience and practice. Lots and lots of practice. It seemed that the advice she'd given newcomers to the firekin would have to apply to her here too.
A pity, for sure, since while Kenna was well known for her patience, it didn't mean she had to like the wait.
Coming back out of her inner thoughts, she watched the male circle her carefully, and her instinct fired off, making her slowly stand up as she adopted a defensive position, keeping him always within her line of sight, "Oh?" a brow arched as he spoke, "You wish to fight me?" a beat, her head tilting to one side, "Right here?" she looked down at the rocky terrain beneath her claws mitts and swiftly decided that... well, no time like the present to practice, "I will have to apologize beforehand. I shall probably not be able to show you what the kin of fire are made of. You fight at home."
The apology was not meant as a jab, or a scathing remark; her features showed true regret as she spoke. It was obvious she was upset at not being able to show him her true potential. Still, no sooner were the words spoken that the expression melted into one of deep concentration and she began circling him in turn, watching the way he put weight on his paws, looking relentlessly for some small show of weakness that she could exploit. Silence reigned, all pretenses of talking gone.
Sometimes, however, a good offense was the best sort of defense, and thus, with a growl, she launched her body forward in an attempt to ram his frame with her full weight; if she could catch him off balance, maybe she could find an opening.
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