#794137187243
Belongs to 's Former Pride

Laurel

"Clean Gen 2"

Lion Stats
Experience	10989 / 28160 (39%)
Level	17
Strength	136	Speed	115
Stamina	136	Smarts	118
Agility	110	Skill	71
Born With:	Unknown	Total Stats:	686

Lion Currents
Age	15 years, 5 months old
Hunger	0%
Mood	100%
Sex	Female
Pose	Default
Personality	Sarcastic (Snarky)

Elder Stage

Breeding Info
Father	Mfalme Kipepeo (Deceased)	Mother	Tanida	View Full Heritage
Last Bred	More than 20 days ago	Fertility	Very Low	View All Cubs Bred (2)

Appearance		Markings
Base	Deira (Tan Skin)	Slot 2: Kimanjano Mottled Vents (79%) Tier 3 Slot 4: Noctis Cheetah Royal (51%) Tier 3 Slot 6: Noctis Facial Spotting (50%) Tier 1 Slot 7: Onyx Vitiligo (71%) Tier 3 Slot 8: White Facial 1 (72%) Tier 1 Slot 9: White Hyena Unders (47%) Tier 3
Genetics	Golden Dark Countershaded Common
Eyes	Emerald
Mane Type	Regal
Mane Color	Ardor
Mutation	None
Marking Slots	10

Equipped Decorations Hide/Show
Above Scar: Front Leg Left

Lifetime Hunting Results
Total Hunts	253	Successful Hunts	251	Success Rate	99%

Biography
You tackle-hug Laurel, happy to see them. Except apparently you did it a little too hard. They wander off crying to their protector. Awwwww crap. You feel awful. Bad lion. Laurel wiggles around your feet playfully then proceeds to bat at your tail. Cute. You greet Laurel and ask her how she is. She informs you that she is FANTASMIC, and she is ABSOLUTELY fine with not getting a share of the last meal. Really. Laurel watches you amusedly, and states dryly that she did not know broken feathers were in fashion nowadays. You hastily remove the offending debris from your mane.

Biography

You tackle-hug Laurel, happy to see them. Except apparently you did it a little too hard. They wander off crying to their protector. Awwwww crap. You feel awful. Bad lion.
Laurel wiggles around your feet playfully then proceeds to bat at your tail. Cute.
You greet Laurel and ask her how she is. She informs you that she is FANTASMIC, and she is ABSOLUTELY fine with not getting a share of the last meal. Really.
Laurel watches you amusedly, and states dryly that she did not know broken feathers were in fashion nowadays. You hastily remove the offending debris from your mane.

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