Guard Bloodfur

"Why did you kill my pride's cubs?" A lioness who carried a reddish cub grumbled.
"B-but I didn't! I swear!" The little blood-red cub pleaded to the lioness who carried her by the scruff.
"You are lucky to be alive, scoundrel." The lioness snapped as she unceremoniously dumped the kit on the dusty ground. "We found you, abandoned, but not without a reason, the gods always have a reason." The cub finally looked back to her captor/savior, who was a gorgeous lioness with fur of a pinkish hue, not unlike the pinks splayed forth by the setting sun. This lioness was walking off, and loneliness soon set in. Finally, when stars were peeking out of wherever they hid during the day, came a lion and lioness- who were flanked by other lionesses in an energetic flurry of chatter. They inspected her every hair, some groomed her- others gave her vile sneers and glances. The lion, who must have been king, shooed the other pridemates away, leaving him and his wife, the queen.
"You see, young one- you are a part of an omen. It is just as old as the land on which we stand, and it will remain unbroken for an eternity more. You represent the death of many cubs, and bear their blood on your pelt, it is all but avoidable. Some pity you, others despise you, but you must bear the burden my dear. I cannot say I am sorry, these are my dead children that you represent, but... I emphasize. My wife will take you in as her own." It was a sense of numbness that washed over her. The expanse of the whole thing a mere mortal cub was wrapped up in. She walked over to the long-furred lioness, who led her away, the lengthy and plush fluff a much-needed comfort.