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Gimle means "New Heaven" In Norse. Aka Gibbles
Gibbles has her own icon https://31.media.tumblr.com/aafab315873732a03d038ddff2839dad/tumblr_inline_ndo1zoICFc1rxpftc.gif
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Gimle was stretched out in one of her favourite retreats, a rocky outlook that was sun soaked all day long, abundant in tall grasses, and fragrant flowers with a fresh source of water fed by a mountain stream. This had been her place for many a year. She blinked her emerald eyes lazily, and softly adjusted her position for the hundredth time, heavily pregnant it was near impossible to remain comfortable for long. She lifted her nose to the breeze, while it tussled her slate pelt her mind wandering until it caught a particular memory. Her arrival to this pride, she was gifted to the Skybright Pride when Zeref the First King ruled, and had always been one of the favourites, every king then and now admired her beauty, and that of her cubs. She always produced beautiful children, though these would be probably one of her last litters. She could of been Queen had she so desired, but she did not. Her blood ran strong through the pride, having recently welcomed her great-grand daughters who were some of the most beautiful cubs she had ever seen, Gimle could of never asked for more. She was proud, and she had lived a long, and for the most part good life. 10 Years she had seen, and knew there would not be many more remaining to her but it bothered her not. Her cubs not only thrived here, but in many other prides. Atleast 3 of her blood would stay among the pride, with 3 more cubs of recent litters selected to stay. She would of enjoyed spending more time with her children, but she was heavy with cubs. Perhaps, after this litter she would put her remaining years into teaching her blood all the secrets and wisdom she had come to learn.
Gimle had left her cubs in the capable paws of one of the younger lionesses, they were draining her and she desired some well deserved peace. Climbing to her private outlook was much harder than she recalled, the creaks of her aging bones were near deafening even to her old ears and when she finally reached her perch she was exhausted. At 13 years it was no wonder. Gimle was old, and tired. Her latest litter was taxing her greatly, and she was not sure she could survive another. With a sigh she flopped into a prime sunny position and closed her eyes which had once been a vibrant emerald, but whose colour faded more with each passing year. At least she was not alone in her old age, she had her dearest friend, the retired Queen, Onatah. They were born a mere moon apart and had been together in this pride a long time, spending even more time together in their old age. Spending a good part of it enjoying the sun and oogling the young males since they could no longer hunt, or babysit, often passing their cubs on to the younger pride members to deal with, but hey they earnt it. You dont make it to 13 years without getting perks. Gimle spent a long time on her outlook today, whether it was because she was too tired to make her way back down or meditating none could be sure.
Gimle's cubs were no longer dependent on her, a huge relief that was. They had been a rather mischievous pair or mayhaps she had just grown less patient in her old age. Gimle had one last task before her. To select her heir which was quite the mission considering the amount of her blood that flowed through this pride, and another that Crowley now ran meant lionesses would be exchanged between them often. One of her daughters was Queen as it was, but no Gimle needed a heir to her position and her ways. One bound by the word of the first King never to leave the pride and for Gimle to confide all her knowledge. She prowled among daughters, grand daughters, and even great grand daughters.. until she happened upon on of her more recent litters, a single slate lioness, who was nursing a single slate cub. Not many of Gimles children boasted her unusual pelt and it warmed her heart to see more of her like. The cub was barely 2 moons old, a daughter with big blue eyes. This was her. Gimle knew. The cub had not even a name. So Gimle decided to name the cub Kyne.
Gimle had only managed to spend a few moons on Kyne, before it happened. Gimle's last heat. The lioness had not intended to have more cubs, but the rouge male who's path she crossed intended otherwise. He was stunning, slate like Gimle with mesmerizing ice blue eyes.. Gimle suspected he was also the Sire of Kyne.. It would be a lie to say Gimle was not completely unwilling, the handsome male stirred feelings in her she thought lost to her youth.. and it's not like she could of fought him off at 14 years old.. All Gimle's energy now was being put into seeing this litter born, Kyne came to her often still, surprisingly eager to learn and listen and Gimle taught. She had no worries about the legacy she was leaving. After these cubs, she would be ready. Even if she could not raise them herself, nursing lionesses were plentiful.
Gimle's condition had rapidly deteriorated, from a sleek, graceful, proud lioness to a listless, lifeless creature with an awkward arthritis ridden gait, skin and fur stretched across a feeble skeleton.. Deaf and nearly completely blind she did little but lie around, usually secluded in the caves, only to crawl out for some sunlight when she found the strength. She drank little, and ate even less, her ancient teeth that had once cut through flesh like a sharp knife could now barely chew even the smallest, softest of carcass. It was obvious every movement caused her pain. It saddened the pride, particularly those of her lines to see a once highly respected and powerful member be reduced to this in her old age, it was not a very dignified way to go.
They kept her company, and as comfortable as possible offering herbs to help ease her discomfort. Even the cubs knew not to bother her. They watched and waited. Wondering when she would let go, to rest with the ancestors above in the sky. Gods know she deserved it.
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