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"Go ahead," Sjurd had whispered into the dark. "Run." His breaths were heavy but controlled, a stark contrast to the quick and panicked heaving the other lion was giving. The reaver could see the pale outline of is frame in the shadows. Though he couldn't make out the expression in his eyes, he had a good guess. Fear. Adrenaline. Pain. The thrilling emotions one gave when they saw the line between life and death so clearly before them.

It was fight or flight, and his target chose the latter.

The blue lion gave a toothy smile and licked the blood from his chops. He took a moment to close his eyes and have a deep breath through his nostrils. He savored the smell that hung in the air before taking off into the brush.

The other lion was bleeding. One of his legs was certainly injured. He wasn't moving very fast, couldn't get anywhere advantageous very quickly, and had little stamina. It was only a matter of time before he was cornered once more.

Sjurd clicked his tongue. "Unlucky," he mused, motioning to the sheer rock wall the rogue had cornered himself in. "Do me a favor, would you? Don't be too loud. My friends are resting not far and you probably wouldn't want to disrupt them."

The reaver, a chipper and silver-tongued smiling face among his Stormborn bretheren, had left a part of him slip. It had been so long, now, that this hunger within him had been kept at bay. It had only shown its face on a few occasions since he had seen Bruten last. Perhaps it was the disappearance of his close companion that had given the raw, unhinged violence a color of something else. Some sort of sly and toying cruelty. But he could only play with his prey for so long.

He lunged. Sleeping birds left their roost as the golden lion roared.

The evening was one of any sort you'd expect in the Stormborn which meant it was loud. Especially around his families dens. Bast'ion was often the cause of noise him self but tonight he found it irritating because he was not feeling the sound. He'd had been going on viking trips more often after he'd gotten a taste for such activities. Every time he went out it felt right. It was easier to block out thoughts he'd been avoiding for months now and live in that moment.

Right now in this moment he felt a great deal of annoyance from the noise. Rather than confront those that were being loud he opted to find a quieter place where he could be alone with him self and recharge. It seemed like there were lions every which way in the den area so he opted to pad off to a more secluded beach off to the edges.

Even upon his arrival Bast'ion would find his choice of beach also had sound but this sound was different. It was not the merry sort but that of distress. Sight. Sound. The kirin lion used both of these as he located the the two culprits of the noise. Two males no doubt.

Bast'ion couldn't help but bare a bit of a snarl on his maw feeling quite annoyed now. This beach had been his peaceful resolution before but now even it was occupied with those that would pollute the sound around him? No. The kirin lion was quick on his paws to rush towards the two, however, upon getting a little too close something crimson caught his eye on one of the males front legs. He averted his eyes else where realizing he was looking at blood. This also had the kirin lion slow his approach to a more chill walk cycle as he approached all of a sudden more focused on avoiding eye contact with the very source of blood.

"I didn't realize." He was flustered and frustrated all at the same time. Both feelings leaving him a confused mess of what to say next, "Who slept with who's sister." Was what he settled on. A little light hearted for the situation but the delivery was with a very flat tone.

Well. This was unfortunate.

The reaver gave a quick and sharp exhale out of his nostrils, admittedly caught off-guard by the sudden voice of a stranger. Sjurd shot a look over his shoulder at the unexpected guest, narrowing his eyes as he looked the lion up and down. He didn't recognize him, though that didn't really mean much. The Stormborn seemed to grow in number like a swarm these past few years. He certainly didn't talk like a thrall. A freeborn, then? Or a fellow reaver?

Either way, the threateningly voracious demeanor Sjurd wore moments before slipped beneath a toothy smile. His eyes lit with a glimmer of casual friendliness. A contrast against the crimson that colored his maw.

"A thrall," Sjurd started, adjusting his weight as he stood atop the heaving and writhing lion. "Came in yesterday with a returning band. Someone must've not been keeping an eye on him because he tried to break for it. I guess it's lucky he doesn't know the place very well. Ran the wrong way."

"I-I wasn't," Radha started, his breaths shallow. He looked to the stranger with desperate eyes. It was true that he was new to the pride. The new thrall was unfamiliar with the pride's customs. Its violent tendencies. "I swear. I was just trying t-"

The lion's voice cut short as Sjurd leaned into him, a weighted paw pushing into his throat. The reaver tried his best to hide his frustration. The disappointment of a thrill cut short. He supposed he would have to go out on a Viking soon. Would have to settle his apatite other ways.

Sjurd shot the thrall a wry look. The 'it wouldn't be good for you to speak' message hit its mark and the thrall's mouth shut. He continued to writhe.
"New thralls are so difficult, aren't they?" Sjurd continued, looking back to Bast'ion. He hadn't thought about how he might look, being so comfortable around this much blood. "Don't like having to put them in their place," a lie, "but someone has to, I s'pose." He shrugged his shoulders, then offered the lion a friendly smile that looked disjointed and eerie among the scene. "I'm Sjurd. By the way."

Bast'ion raised a brow at the two lions not fully sure what he should think or if he should really care one way or the other. He knew all too well that new thralls could be unwilling to fully cooperate so it wasn't unbelievable that one might step out of line and try to escape. It was the sight and smell of the blood that had Bast'ion's attention, or had him doing his best to not look straight on. His head was starting to feel a little light.

"They really are difficult." Bast'ion agreed, "So he was trying to escape? I suppose it would leave one with no choice but to punish." The more Bast'ion thought about the situation the more reasonable it seemed.

"Though you probably want to clean that wound out. A lame thrall seems pretty useless." He was still weighing things in his mind. Over all he seemed pretty on board though.

"I mean it'd be really stupid to allow one so fresh to grow lame on the first week." His eyes were still not fully focused on either of the two. Bast'ion was doing his best not to look directly at the blood and this was proving difficult.