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Booble, I fucking love you <3 I have no words to express right now <3 ;u;
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Named after an obscure Middle Ages queen, means bear-spear. I thought it suitably fierce for her ^^
Was incognito in my den as Alcatraz {Fiery-3/4m-806} 3xP. Mwhahahaa <33
I wanted to gift her during the wet season because her decors look fabulous, but ah well ;;
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Merry Christmas Mau. Or winter solstice. Or season-of-general-giftgiving x3
Whatever. I'm a chronic overgifter, and you shall be smotheringly gifted with love. And gifts :I
<33
Boobles.
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The ruddy lioness padded along beneath the glaring African sun, following the faint scent of water. It led her to a small oasis, really not much more than a muddy waterhole in a stand of faded trees, shimmering in the heat. Still, she was grateful for it. She gulped down several mouthfuls of the slightly muddy water, then retreated beneath the scant shade provided by the bushes nearby to wait out the worst of day's heat. She silently cursed her fluffy coat, the extra fur trapping the warmth of the day far more effectively than she would have liked.
Beren dozed lightly throughout the day but only lightly, on guard against the threat of approaching lions, even though she'd already put several days travel between her and her home pride. She'd never been well-liked there, barely tolerated really. The king and his heirs sneered at her masculine form, over-muscled for a lioness and with thick heavy fur forming a mane-like ruff about her neck. The other lionesses shunned her too, although for some at least the distaste was feigned only to keep favour with the current king, a strict leader and cruel in his judgements. He had run her out eventually, punishment for her trespass and a warning to the others. She wondered now how many of them now feared for their cubs, products of sneaky liaisons with rogues or wanderers, rather than the offspring of the true king and his guard.
By the time the sun was setting, she felt well rested enough to continue, even though her stomach was now growling. A ground-nesting bird she nearly tromped on out in the grasslands provided a few feathery mouthfuls, brittle bones crunching. She carried on, putting more distance between her and her old pride as the stars wheeled slowly overhead, blanching the sea of grasses into razor edged shadows. She continued through the night, and til about mid morning the next day, taking shelter in another copse of trees from the rising temperatures, her stomach once again complaining quietly as she fell asleep.
She was woken by a quiet "meep."
She snapped awake, a fierce hiss already curling her lips. There was movement on the other side of her hidden den, something small scrambling rapidly away. Her eyes adjusted to the brightness, making out the form of a small caracal cub, now cowering away from her. She staked towards it, expecting the mother to leap out from cover and defend her young, but there was no motion, other than the tiny creature shrinking even further in on itself, squeezing out another tiny "meep." She huffed in annoyance, tail twitching. She was hungry, and the creature was right there... So tiny and defenceless, just like her cubs had been.
She growled at the little cub, then stalked past it, ears pinned back grumpily. It was after the worst heat of the day, another hour or two and she would've woken on her own with the fading light. The scent of gazelle made Beren's stomach grumble again, and she trotted in the direction of the smell, dropping into a stalking pace once she drew nearer. A group of small gazelle were grazing nearby, a buck keeping watch as his ladies fed. She crept closer, the lengthening shadows helping to disguise her russet coat amongst the shifting grasses. A short bound and she brought down a young doe, sending the others scattering away. It wasn't a large meal, would barely feed just her, but it would be enough.
Beren dragged her prize into the shelter of a thorny bush, concealing it from buzzards and scavengers, and began to feed. She hadn't had a proper meal since she left her pride, and the rich red meat was satisifying even if there wasn't as much of it as she would've liked. She was busy gorging herself when she heard a hungry little "meep". A foot or two away was the little caracal. Beren pinned her ears back and hissed at it again, specks of blood flying from her lips as she did. The young cat shrank away, but didn't leave. It was then that she realised she hadn't seen or smelt the cub's mother around, and they were fierce little things, ready to defend their babes against much larger predators. She should've been here, fur on end and teeth bared to warn Beren off, but she wasn't. This cub was likely just as alone out here as she was.
*I HAVEN'T FINISHED, IDK WHAT NEXT DAMMIT* xDD
You can finish it if you want, or I'll work on it at some point and PM you the rest ;; I had her personality interactions with your other gals worked out and everything x3
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