The dance between a lion and a tiger.

Akira · (This post was last modified: February 06, 2019, 09:28 AM by Akira.)

It is already too late to swim when the water reaches your lips.

The last remaining daughter of the Blue Swan legacy. That was what she was, or what she had been damned to be, chosen by fate to hold such a heavy crown. She had been sent to Teekon to scout, to find herself a well established ecosystem where she could settle not only herself, but bring her Family. It was a daunting thing, but it was her duty to her people. To her Father. And she could not fail them, as should she, nothing but dishonor would be brought upon them. She could not risk the shame.

Through the morning, well into dusk, she survived. The Emperor’s daughter, hunting, fishing for herself, snagging birds, and making sure she lived on. But how long would it be that she would have to push through, alone?

As she pushed through the snowed banks of the mountainside, she wondered if anyone would help her through this solitary confinement.

Not all birds have been taught to fly. Some simply fall until they either learn, or perish.

Kerkios · (This post was last modified: February 06, 2019, 01:37 PM by Kerkios.)

Forward dating a day or two if that's ok?

The boyish tyrant had strayed from his sullied peak with the intention of scouting what ruins lied amongst the rolling mountains, for surely somewhere hidden amidst them was a kingdom worthy of being called his domain, and until he found it, he'd continue to rummage through with unyielding determination.

The wind had led him through the thickest portion of the range, and had eventually dropped him within the mouth of a valley where he'd been fortunate enough to snag a careless fox that happened to be wandering by. And now, has he climbed atop yet another summit with the remains of his victim's tail hanging loosely between stained jaws, Kerkios let out a bellow for any near, beckoning them to his side.

Akira · February 08, 2019, 09:08 AM

It is already too late to swim when the water reaches your lips.

Her forlorn had been heard, and without much more than a sign, deft ears swiveled over a slender crown. The youth, though educated in how all calls were not meant to be answered, felt this was one who needed a response. The pearl cream body made for the calling, mind taunt on how and where it had sounded. The vocals were not native to her, nor her people, so this must have been one of the walkers of this land. Svelt and silent, the warrioress skipped through the cold snow, angling her trek so that she may atleast see her rouse lest it were merely a deathly ruse.

Floating to the left of the mountainous incline, she made quick the footword of nimble paws over the untelling footholds, her deep sapphires discerning which would tell on her and which would keep her arrival secret. While her slight passage came to an end, she spied the beacon atop the mount peak.
A man, slate, monochrome, and platinum with hidden embellishments of lighter silvers edging his features. He was a man who held himself as though he expected the palace to merely bow to him, but after touching sea gems over everything near, she found he was his only company. A flicker to the perished fox, and she wondered why he had not made his meal, yet. Perhaps he saved it for whomever had come to hear his words-
Perhaps he had chosen to save it for himself, later.

Though his stature was handsome, her culture was strict on who was associated with royalty, and who was associated with peasantry. Should his mannerisms or bloodline be indirect from a proficient dynasty, she would have no reason to be around him. But her soul ached for atleast some companion.

Akira made herself known, taking a shallow step forward, and speaking. It was obvious he was not chinese, but her family had translators who had instilled translators of the most understandable wolfspeak. She wouldn't know however whether her accent had stayed or faded.

"Greetings. I have heard you." Her small form, one meant to land swift hits and crumple under any in return, stayed primed to flee should she need, though the tauntness of her muscles stayed hidden under her peculiar coat.

Not all birds have been taught to fly. Some simply fall until they either learn, or perish.