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Enough. Sukurys had been wandering around moping over his lost love for quite long enough. The two of them had seemed to be meant for one another, but she had left him in the morning without even a word. Perhaps he had been mistaken. But their fish markings...

"No," he told himself firmly. "Enough. It is time to behave like an adult and move on with my life."

For Sukurys, that meant finding the stormy pride his coat prophesied he would join and begin his life there. He had found the pride - it hadn't been too difficult, actually - but now that he was there, he didn't quite know what was supposed to do.

He'd been told there would be someone to fight in order to prove his worth, but so far no such person had appeared and he had been wandering the lands for hours, growing more and more introspective.

Rolled: 8

"Are you looking for me?" Blomkvist asked from behind the cover of a rock.

Maybe the outlander hadn't seen him, but he had seen the outlander, and so far he was not very impressed with him. He reminded Blomkvist of that pain in the a** Solvtorn, who was always trying to tell people how clever he was. If you have to tell someone you're clever, you probably aren't. That was how Blomkvist felt about it anyway.

"Or, are you looking for someone to challenge in a glorious askorun, proving your might and worth to the pride, or else meeting defeat and slinking off in shame? If that is the case, you are looking for me, and you have found me."

He was doing his very best not to laugh, but he wanted to give the outlander the full Stormborn experience. It had been a while since he'd been on patrol. Now that he thought about it, he'd been taken off the patrol roster for acting something like this.

"It is a good day to die."

Rolled: 11

Sukurys watched a fairly enormous lion with simple white and pink coloration leap down from rocks that looked pretty impossible to climb up and wondered how the two of them were going to get back up to the pride when this battle was over. He waited while the lion stood still and eventually sat down and wondered what sort of a sign he was missing.

In the mean time, Sukurys studied the larger lion. His coat was very simple, as he had noted right away. In his family's tradition that meant that he was not destined for any particularly great things. Not like Sukurys was. The fact that the pink was so close to the white in shade also indicated that this was a very private lion, because the markings were harder to read. While mildly interesting, none of it was particularly useful as far as warning Sukurys about what sort of fight to expect, if, indeed, a fight ever did occur.

"Are you...waiting for something?" Sukurys finally demanded impatiently. Just standing here while the pale lion looked at him through his pale eyes was kind of unnerving.

Blomkvist snorted. "As a matter of fact, I was waiting for you to attack. In an askorun the Stormborn combatant - which is me - will often allow the outlander combatant - which is you - the opportunity to strike first, just in case they are not sufficiently skilled as fighters to have another chance to be on the offensive."

He smiled as if he was completely unaware that his words would have been offensive and insulting. He was, in fact, hoping that they would be taken as such, since this particular outlander didn't seem to have a great deal of natural violence about him. Not everyone did, and so Blomkvist was not going to judge immediately. If, however, an attack did not come after Blomkvist had insulted him like that, Blomkvist would attack, and it would be a driving-off rather than a challenge.

The pride had no use for lions who would not fight. At least, not outlanders who would not fight. Unless they were thralls. He could always enthrall this lion, he supposed. That might be satisfying.

Sukurys' eyes widened as he stared up at his opponent, watching a change come over him wherein he lost any traces of good humor Sukurys had previously detected, even the sort that came at Sukurys' expense, and became just plan dangerous. In an instant, Sukurys knew he was not equipped to handle a lion who could fight like this, and yet he scrambled to his feet. That threat about his hide had felt very real, and the idea was abhorrent to a lion with Sukurys' upbringing.

"I will leave, but I'll return, stronger and better, and when we square off then, you will be the one in the sand."

It was easier than he had expected to issue the threat, and even to make it sound somewhat convincing. It was very hard to turn his back on the white lion to walk away. But then, what choice did he have? He knew that it was his destiny to become one of the Stormborn. He should have remembered that just because a thing is destined, doesn't mean it will come easily.

Blomkvist watched as his opponent gathered himself and for a moment he wondered if he had misjudged the fish-butt lion, but then he just agreed to go without any further fight. Oh, he'd issued threats, but they were nowhere near as elegantly worded as a Stormborn could have made them, and they were markedly less convincing, too.

"Whatever you say. I'll be here," he answered with lazy confidence.

Now that he knew he had won and sent an unsuitable challenger packing his good mood was returning to him. The way it had turned to fury and then returned had been odd, but he wasn't worried. Maybe he was just wound too tightly and ought to be chewing more mint. Solutions involving mint were the best kind of solutions. He'd ask Valena if she wanted to join him. Chew some mint while chewing the fat.

Oh, yeah. Sentry duty. After that, then, he decided as he hopped back up to his hiding place.