#794158089511
Belongs to 's Pride
(View Former Prides)

Khafifa

"The Sun Warrior"

This lioness is in heat and will be for 2 more days.

Lion Stats
Experience	4536 / 7040 (64%)
Level	9
Strength	72	Speed	47
Stamina	30	Smarts	49
Agility	50	Skill	16
Born With:	Unknown	Total Stats:	264

Lion Currents
Age	4 years, 6 months old
Hunger	40%
Mood	90%
Sex	Female
Pose	Evil
Personality	Prudent (Good)

Adult Stage

Breeding Info
Father	Latona (Deceased)	Mother	CRB NCL (Deceased)	View Full Heritage
Last Bred	Never	Fertility	Low	View All Cubs Bred (0)

Appearance		Markings
Base	Sienna (Brown Skin)	Slot 2: Ice Cover (44%) Tier 3 Slot 3: Ice Crackle (36%) Tier 3 Slot 6: Lilac Lace (40%) Tier 3 Slot 7: Feline 7 Onyx (55%) Tier 2 Slot 8: White Marbled Unders (48%) Tier 1 Slot 9: Midnight (42%) Tier 1
Genetics	Red Medium Solid Common
Eyes	Starshine
Mane Type	Diabolic
Mane Color	Skyward
Mutation	Achromia
Marking Slots	10

Equipped Decorations Hide/Show
Sunrise Over The Championships Above Claw Extensions [Gold] Rear Claw Extensions [Gold] Scar: Back Scratch War Paint: Sun Warrior Event Scar: Fallen Champion Scar: Beaten Up Scar: Belly Scratch Scar: Tail Flesh of the Black Lion

Lifetime Hunting Results
Total Hunts	55	Successful Hunts	55	Success Rate	100%

Biography
The early morning sun peaks over the Arena Gorge, painting the stone in vibrant colors. The air is cool. You are participating in the first tournament today, this first battle of the day. You draw in a slow breath as you stretch, letting your eyes drift closed. You are ready. Pawsteps approach, and you open your eyes to see your opponent. He is smaller than you would have expected, and black as night. You watch him approach, trying to size him up, though it only causes dread to form a pit in your stomach. Your opponent gazes at you with sunken, unnaturally pink eyes set in reddish sockets. His fur and mane shifts unnaturally as he walks, and- is he dragging his paws? No - you realize, eyes widening - he isn't dragging his paws, in fact, 'he' another lion's skin that your actual challenger is wearing. You find yourself edging backwards in disgust when your opponent stops before you. The lion whips the black lion's pelt from their form in an instant, revealing a pelt so pure white it burns your eyes in the sunlight. You take in your actual challenger through narrowed eyes: their muscled frame is covered in scars that tell the story of many victories, and black and gold paint covers their body in bold patterns. Their face is painted in a fashion similar to a golden skull, and they are grinning at you. The referee calls for the battle to start, and your opponent surges forward, their gold-tipped claws gleaming in the sunlight.

Biography

The early morning sun peaks over the Arena Gorge, painting the stone in vibrant colors. The air is cool. You are participating in the first tournament today, this first battle of the day. You draw in a slow breath as you stretch, letting your eyes drift closed. You are ready.

Pawsteps approach, and you open your eyes to see your opponent. He is smaller than you would have expected, and black as night. You watch him approach, trying to size him up, though it only causes dread to form a pit in your stomach.

Your opponent gazes at you with sunken, unnaturally pink eyes set in reddish sockets. His fur and mane shifts unnaturally as he walks, and- is he dragging his paws? No - you realize, eyes widening - he isn't dragging his paws, in fact, 'he' another lion's skin that your actual challenger is wearing. You find yourself edging backwards in disgust when your opponent stops before you.

The lion whips the black lion's pelt from their form in an instant, revealing a pelt so pure white it burns your eyes in the sunlight. You take in your actual challenger through narrowed eyes: their muscled frame is covered in scars that tell the story of many victories, and black and gold paint covers their body in bold patterns. Their face is painted in a fashion similar to a golden skull, and they are grinning at you.

The referee calls for the battle to start, and your opponent surges forward, their gold-tipped claws gleaming in the sunlight.

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