Greatwater Lake Visuvius

open to gwl recruits and tagging @Cynna, not open to others ty.

There were strangers at her lake. She heard them carrying on, and to counter them the ogre summoned @Mesen-ka so that their own shouts could compete and make it known, this place is mine, this man, this lake, this future.

There was only so much of this Zharille could take before seeking the blatant scent of the woman. She bludgeoned her way along the lake side in pursuit of a trail, agitated by the presence of a rival woman who thought her rule could be ignored.

Zharille would correct this oversight.

with guards and her husband @Rashepses Toula marched in the direction the scent those that wandered where they should not have to the Lake. yet again they would find themselves aligned—and Toula would raise her voice with her in loud solidarity. our reach is vast—and you have been found!
with @Zaahira ahead of her, Toula ranged. the Jodai would soon know of the Pharaoh’s anxieties—she wanted her lands safe, before…
she couldn’t know, not yet! not for herself—but there were more children to consider, and those of Zharille again too. Toula would stand with her now,
they would face the wrath of the Gods this day!

Mazoi welcome! husband invited bc husband & her right hand protector too—just in response to the trespass thread I was too slow to get to *___* requested permission to enter!

They tore across the shoulder-high fields to the banks of the great lake where the tower of Zharille rose amidst the blue-grey mountains. The desert king was armored all in black, save the streaks of gold that blazed like fire in the molten sun. Muscled, heavy, yet swift on his feet, and stalking with the deft of a predatory cat. He flanked his wife, eyes never pulling from where she was in view, but with his nose and ears he hunted. These were Their lands, Theirs by right– and now by blood.

Treading ahead, his dark parry was added to the lake woman’s call, then he stood in silent wait, cruel eyes trained on the wooded banks ahead.

Restless legs drove the coyote around the lake and she soon came to curse them when she heard the cacophony of voices rising around her. They were calls of warning, of claim, calls that seemed to say you can run but you can’t hide. 

She was confused on that bit. Her idea to go to the lake was purely to rest and rejuvenate, Ace was the one who wanted to continue their travels. He was determined, but she had been more so for some rest and to cool off before continuing.

So, she sat where she was, non-threatening, ears perked to listen for the inevitable approach.

Apologies for the quick trespassing thread, thanks for getting this follow-up going!

His soon-to-be Wife is not alone in her fire and fury. The titaness is enraged. Her voice roars across the lake interlinked with his own, proud and bellowing. If the lake woman should rip limb from limb the vermin mingling in the musk of their own wanton hours, her right will be executed. A king trumpets ahead, and it must be him.

They meet face to face the divine beauty herself, and her visionary consort. Mesen-ka bows his head. "My Pharaoh! My king!" Rashepses is caught in the glaze of his eyes as a dark knight, and knows he will have many questions for him before the day! There is a job to be finished.

Expecting the voice of Mesen-ka, perhaps the physical presence of Kaxwaan if he had returned to them, it is with greater surprise (and immense agitation) that Zharille hears the voices of even more wolves she does not know. These voices rise in tandem with her warning and as her voice is quickly drowned out, she turns a glare towards her husband.

The man has gone from her side to seek those voices. Perhaps he meant to give chase to these foreigners? But this is not what happens. He lunges after them and while Zharille expects teeth and some sort of assertion of his position as her chosen man (even if she had not chosen him herself), Mesen-ka mingles against the tall, dark man and shows deference to the little girl beside him.

Zharille snarls; she moves to her man, grappling with him a moment, teeth catching his cheek as if to pull him aside; and she finds the scent of the real reason for their carousing now. There is a coyote girl, or some sort of mutt, reeking strongly of sex.

Rounding beyond the pair who smell of the desert — Zharille charges for the waiting figure who shrinks and observes the lakeside, making no attempt to hide her approach as she crowds close.

Little bitch, Zharille rumbles through her teeth, threatening with her aura alone, and pressing close to the little one (Cynna), with the intent to push her in to the dirt with her very presence. Lake is mine. Men of lake, mine. The look upon the ogre's face held an obvious message: you fucked around in the wrong place.