B: Paramour Mowwa

You settled in for the night to sleep, but then you felt something trembling next to you. You find Cub, looking scared. You pull them close with your paws and let them snuggle until you both are asleep.
Paramour Mowwa snorts a greeting as you pass, then returns to grumbling over some tweeting birds nearby.
You gleefully lead your pride to a fresh zebra carcass to feed. Paramour Mowwa huffs at you. Zebra...again? Ugh.

Mowwa is a promising young lioness. The best friend of Lestanasho, a similarly aged female, she was named by the Liefde the King-Killer for the unsettling noise the old monarch used to make upon brutally sacrificing cubs to the spirits. He hopes that this violent spirit will course through her and give her swift success in the hunt, and that the ancient ancestors will bless her with stripe-pelt cubs.

Mowwa is a friendly lioness, wholy accepting of the bloody regime her kings have thrust upon the pride. Having grown up knowing nothing else, she sees these ways as normal, and her true father (whilst not so bloodthirsty) is also of the same mindset.

The pride is violent to outsiders, but brilliantly close within their own ranks, meaning that Mowwa does not understand why young cubs are sometimes brought in with strange coat patterns or colours, or why some of the older lionesses awaiting their time to die seem so saddened by this. Little does she know that the wise old Berrayas would never have stood for this bloody conflict and hatred started by Galaxy, the son of the wisest lioness to ever be seen within the Dark Savannah. Gentle Mayastia tried to impart some of her cautionary tales and the stories of old on young Mowwa, but only her adopted litter-mate Lestunasho really took them in. Mow is slightly upset that she wasn't considered for the long-standing traditional title of Berraya, but knows that her strength lies in the messy death and blood of the hunt, rather than honing her skills to perfect fluidity, so she's stayed proud and supportive of her good friend.