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Ormarr had tried to keep track of her nieces and nephews, she'd tried, but they were beastly. She'd spotted Erskine slipping away from the new family headquarters in the woods and followed just in time to catch sight of him slinking back into the pride proper. So here she was herself, creeping around and trying to look for the brat while staying out of sight. Ormarr had no interest in being the family's first (or second) casualty to the new Warlord's rule.

Sehvi wasn't very happy with the new Warlord.

It wasn't that Sehvi had a lot of sympathy for the plight of other females wanting to go viking, because she didn't. No one had wanted to take Sehvi along on a viking and that was when it had been allowed. Tough. Life was tough. If they were too slow and lazy to get in on a viking while they still had time, Sehvi really didn't care. Sitting around boo-hooing about the unfairness wouldn't help anyone.

No. It was her own treatment Sehvi was growing irritated about. Even when females were allowed to become Reavers, there were a bunch of stodgy old males griping at her and refusing to teach her. Now, Njal's rules were encouraging all sorts of disrespect, even from the young males that Sehvi had seen as her peers. It was infuriating. Sehvi would not hesitate to defend her honor with tooth and claw, but even she couldn't take on what seemed like half the pride.

The sight of one of the old Warlord's brood did not do much to alleviate Sehvi's ill mood. "You," she snarled, spotting that familiar pelt. "What are you doing here?"

Ormarr froze, staring wildly around for the source of the voice.

Oh. A female. A female Reaver. She felt a cautious sense of relief. Ormarr had been disconnected from the pride, but she'd heard rumors about the changes taking place. Her mother, though not very interested in fighting herself, had relayed some bits of information here and there.

"I'm looking for someone. A young one. I'll be gone as soon as I find him," Ormarr said softly, keeping her voice down.

Surely a female Reaver, facing her own difficulties, would find common ground with Ormarr's plight.

WRONG.

Sehvi didn't care about cubs. Sehvi didn't care about exiles. If Sehvi hadn't been facing trouble herself, she would likely have ignored the female.

But Sehvi sensed an opportunity here. The male Reavers seemed to have lost respect for her, and capturing one of the exiles might help with that. Probably not with crusty old assholes like Voldemaras, but some of the younger male Reavers. The ones she privately thought of as soft and stupid.

"You're not supposed to be here," Sehvi growled, stalking towards the other lioness. Ormarr was large, but Sehvi, by dint of combined Firekin and Stormborn blood, matched her for size even though she was the younger lioness. "The penalty for returning is death. Death -- or service."

Ormarr didn't like where this was headed. The younger female approaching her had a nasty, toothy smile. She also didn't sound very interested in helping Ormarr at all.

She ought to run. They were about the same size, but Ormarr thought she was probably lighter on her feet than the muscular Reaver. But that left Erskine, alone in the stronghold of the enemy.

Her ears laid flat to her head and Ormarr backed away, watching Sehvi warily. "I told you, as soon as I get my nephew I'll leave. He's young, he's stupid. He just wandered off. We won't bother you."

Okay, so she'd issued a threat and a challenge. That ought to satisfy whatever honor was required in this situation, right? She'd also established that this stupid lioness knew full well she was trespassing in case some stuffed up Lawspeaker with ties to Aesir decided to cry foul.

"Have it your way," Sehvi said, lunging at the black lioness. From scuffles with other Reavers she had learned not to fight fair. Sehvi would always be at a slight disadvantage with her lack of a mane and slightly smaller build. She needed every advantage she could muster.

The fact that she was fighting another lioness this time did not inspire her to be any kinder. Sehvi slashed furiously at her opponent, claws extended.

Ormarr might have some of her father's frame, but she hadn't fought another since cubhood tussles with her littermates. She was familiar enough with watching challenges to know to get out of the way when Sehvi leapt at her, but she wasn't skilled enough to avoid the blow.

Ormarr cried out as Sehvi's claws tore into her shoulder, staggering a bit. "Stop, I don't want to fight you!"