P carillon towers

Arsynia,

Lioness of Prideless

Played by dusk

---

I fear no King. I fear no God.

The thrumming lull of the catacombs might have been more alluring had this place not been so plunged into darkness and staleness. Arsynia had reconsidered entering the caves at all, but little did she want to leave any part of Aesseldar untouched, any stone unturned. Light flitted in through the small gaps in the ceiling, ancient stalactites dripping water from their spindling fingers that reach down from the ceiling, some so large they'd begun to brush and crawl along the ground. An illuminated river carved a pathway through the winding caverns, algae clumped along its shores in a soft blueish-green glow, outshined by the blistering sun that so desperately crawled in through the cracks along the ceiling like a silvery vein. The soft echo of footfalls and the claws that clicked against the stone underfoot accompanied her easy pace, aligning with the melodic drip, drip, drip and the gentle swish of blind trout that fought the swift current of the river.

Eventually, Arsynia found a drier place; a small rocky outcropping just above her head, sheltered from the river water and the wet stalactites. A swift and powerful jump cleared the height, and upon her arrival stirred the ancient dust and creeping cave crickets. The enjoyment of the cave's solitude was not lost on her, but beyond the openness and gentle, dim light, there was little that settled Arsynia in this place. No—rather, her unease was evident in the swift rise and fall of her flank with each hastened breath, and the vexatious twitch of her tail against the rocky slab she lay upon.

Art by Argent

Erenvel,

Lioness of Prideless

Played by Naboo

---

Much like the deep rooted desires of Arsynia, so too was Erenvel's compulsion to explore driven by the thought of leaving no place untouched, no stone unturned, and the desire to have laid her eyes upon every nook and cranny. The avarice within her grew here and though many others had found their paths leading them into Aesseldar, she was compelled to make, or aid, in the family stronghold. The catacombs had become a natural place of intrigue when she'd reached the base of the mountain, as though she could hear her name being called from within. Whispers which pulled her into the embrace of the dark, though darkness was not what she found when she turned the first corner. Instead the bio-luminescent shades of blue and green, mixed with the occasional ray of sunfire ignited the path around the catacombs.

Moisture seeped into the fur of her toes from the damp ground underfoot, the weaving tunnels leaving more to the imagination as she pressed on, prowling through the dimly lit cavern as her yellow eyes flicked toward the surroundings around the next bend. It was then that mixmatched eyes looked back from the darkness, perched on the proverbial throne that naturally formed over time. For a moment her lips rippled, darkened muzzle crinkling before she realized who it was; a familiar scent infiltrating her nostrils and causing the glint in her eyes to go wicked. "Arsynia." Her voice had matured over time in the last few years, however it was still femenine, deep and meaningful with every word spoken. Her mane blew against her cheeks and her ears pulled forward along her skull. "Are we home?" Not in the caves but rather here, all of it, Aesseldar.

@Arsynia

_{art by ki-re, code by naboo}

Arsynia,

Lioness of Prideless

Played by dusk

---

I will never be gone.
I am a scar, a report from the front lines,
a talisman, a resurrection.
A rough place on the chin of complacency.

Arsynia.

The voice that rumbled forth belonged not to the Aesseldaran men she'd met so far, nor to a stranger; rather, there was something hauntingly and delightfully familiar in its half-snarled drawl. Arsynia's mismatched gaze swiftly turned downward, catching the wisps of red fur in the dim cavelight, a burning and unyielding fire even in that dark, damp place. “Erenvel,” Arsynia breathed in response, getting to her paws; she abandoned the sun-warmed and dry ground in favor of leaping from the ledge and joining her elder sister below. Are we home? Erenvel responded, swift and assured and anticipating. Arsynia's lips pressed into a firm line, pausing to contemplate the gravity of her words.

They're in your paws now—all of them. Have you ever felt so powerful, so agonized? Is this not what you'd always dreamt of?

“Yes,” she finally declared, the fight between hesitation and decisiveness waging in her unwavering response, “I'm tired of running.” They had been separated for too long, and the fruits of this land would perhaps be tempting enough to draw more Tollaire. Despite the necessity of joining the exodus of other lions coming into the newly-accessible lands, Arsynia knew that this was perhaps their best chance at rebuilding what once they had lost, and cementing their family once more in one single place. But beyond that—even Arsynia Tollaire was uncertain. “Many men and women have already sought prides of their own,” she began again, her gaze intently watching each and every reaction on Erenvel's face. She fought the urge to reach forward and press her nose into her neck, to allow the fringes of her mane to tickle her cheeks, to breathe in deeply her womanish, familiar scent. “So far I've found it more helpful to watch and observe for potential allies or tyrants...” she paused, and took a breath, “but it would be unwise to live like this for too long.” Right? She held the question back, knowing now she'd need to be unwavering more than ever, but the desire for her elder sister's council hung heavy on her breath, suddenly wishing more than anything to have the proper guidance of their father, if only to assure the prosperity of their family under her paw as much as his.

@Erenvel

Art by Argent

Erenvel,

Lioness of Prideless

Played by Naboo

---

I'm tired of running. The words had an impact on her which she hadn't realized she'd felt until now. Despite the fact that she was not old, she felt wearied by travel and fatigued by the never-ending paths that lead to nowhere. Where her sister had composed herself and not closed the gap between them, Eren felt herself leaning forward until the top of her skull fit against the nook of her sister's neck at the jaw line, while she pulled away there was a moment to admire the ferocity in Arsynia's features. Jagged lines so boldly and beautifully carved and masked for a bold effect that drew out the colors of her eyes. Her mane cascaded back as she found her breath, weighing the words that had been so briefly exchanged already, knowing that part of the reason she was here had also been by her own doing, but unwilling to accept it even now.

"What do you propose we do then?" Living like this, like vagabonds that spanned across the land and instead of claiming their own stake they watched others rise. Her blood bubbled violently at the thought, claws subconsciously marring the surface beneath and leaving moistened channels like small streaks that did little to wound the cavern's earth. In time those marks would be forgotten, but she could not say the same for their family. "Are we to rise over time from the careful watch of others, or are we to make a stand?" There was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to give into the sounds of violence that echoed malevolently through her mind, but she knew that she must temper herself. Though Arsynia lead them she felt dutiful not to let her sister down, not to throw them down a path of immediate violence and turmoil. It was Arsynia, and the promise of giving greatness to the family, that had been the only saving graces to biting her tongue and keeping her wits about her. Her vitriol however grew with each day here, and she was having to try harder and harder to compose herself at all turns. "Are there any potential allies yet?" Perhaps the change in tone of her question may guide her mind back from the dark turn it had taken.

@Arsynia

_{art by ki-re, code by naboo}

Arsynia,

Lioness of Prideless

Played by dusk

---

I will never be gone.
I am a scar, a report from the front lines,
a talisman, a resurrection.
A rough place on the chin of complacency.

Arsynia welcomed Erenvel's affection, breathing in her scent, so reminiscent of smoke and fire and ash. Her mane tickled her nose, a pressure against her jaw that elicited a soft purr, a softness quite unlike the brutalness that was Arsynia Tollaire. Her shoulders fell, her fears receded, her hesitancy seemed to draw back in resignation. She leaned into her sister's touch, and closed her eyes briefly. What do you propose we do then? Erenvel asked, stirring Arsynia from reveries of distant days spent toppling over her littermates and gnawing gleefully on their tails and ears. Are we to rise over time from the careful watch of others, or are we to make a stand? Arsynia had always been half-wild and half-careful. She'd held onto the belief of careful resignations, watching from afar the world unfolding in chaos so that she may find its most vulnerable spots. And yet, the young and brash wolfish girl did not sit idly by as opportunity passed, and driven by ambition and lack of experience, saw impulsive decisions sometimes equally fruitful to more cunning, thoughtful ones.

“Ideally, we wait,” she admitted, allowing a small smile to break her steeled expression, “but have any of us ever shirked at opportunity laid before us?” Would fate have awarded Smaug the Band had he not wrenched it from the paws of their enemies? Would Vermillion not have quashed their enemies over and over again had he hidden behind his borders? Arsynia wanted to be like them; she wanted to follow in the overwhelming light of her father and elder brother, but even now that seemed so unreachable.

Are there any potential allies yet? Erenvel's question recaptured the Matriarch's attention, stiffening momentarily, before relaxing into thought. “I had, but—” she began, “only one of them seems to remain. I had met two men intent on staking claims as soon as the lands settled. Both had seemed promising, but only one capable of following through, it seems.” Kaden had been Arsynia's preferred ally nonetheless, spending far more time entertaining an alliance with the man that she had with Barnabas, yet the proposition of two allies falling to one was inconvenient nonetheless. “It leaves only Kaden of the Lake,” she began again after a short pause, “his claim went unanswered, and when I challenged his caliber, he had proven a worthy opponent.” The battle had been close, and Kaden had come out the fair victor. Arsynia had not let the new King go without a scrape, however.

@Erenvel

Art by Argent

Erenvel,

Lioness of Prideless

Played by Naboo

---

There was a distinct difference that she could recall between her and a majority of the Tollaire, it was that biding her time and patience were attributes she clearly hadn't inherited. Not only was she clouded of mind, but she was sinful of soul and greedy to a degree that triggered her impulse. Moments like these made her question so much of herself and she felt like she was a traitor in the midst of her own family, that they would turn on her if they knew the real Erenvel which lay within; the untamed fires that were threatening to burn everything in their wake and lead to an untimely demise. She admired Arsynia's calm, though deep within her own gaze was that instability that grew ever more as she looked over the bold face of the wolf-blooded dragon.

"Opportunities seem to rise quickly here." The harsh droll of her voice snapping at the thought of so many useless and unworthy lions had risen to power and so quickly fallen. They did not appreciate nor have enough merit to run a pride, and their lack of resolve was almost disturbing. Was there such little pride and strength here? If so, the Tollaire would easily thrive, though the restless energy within her wondered if that was even worth it. She wanted the challenge, she welcomed adversity, and more than anything she wanted destruction. Some day she may come to regret that, she may come to be consumed by the flames of her own rage, but for now all she could do was be fueled by it. However she was only a shade of herself, hiding the insecurities and the worst of herself from her sister.

"One of the newest is Ignis Empire, their leader Volcan we should keep on our radar." She thought of her spar with the woman, but was still unsure what to make of it. The ends hadn't quite connected yet, she wasn't certain that there was strength but there were numbers, and one thing she had taken from her father was to consider all the variables. "There is no fear of battle there, she welcomed my test of strength though she did not perform as I might have expected." She wondered if it could have been she sitting on that throne, though the responsibilities of a pride were not yet for her. She wanted it, she craved it, she needed it, but somehow she knew that if she went for something like that it would be the beginning of the end for her. "I have run into many rogues though. The lands are slowly filling up and I expect that we will see more families establish themselves here."


OOC: fluid timing ftw


@Arsynia

_{art by ki-re, code by naboo}