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The cover of night was always the best bet for scouting a potential new home for possible threats, or weaknesses. It was more so the weaknesses Tezcatlipoca was looking for. After all, pride that failed to be alert to dangers, especially at night, was not a pride she felt worthy of her time. Tezcatlipoca knew her worth. Being a tigon she was larger than the average lioness, more robust, and more agile, with the stamina to back it up. She was a prize any King would be thrilled to hold within his pride, and she knew it. Her deep frostbitten coat, marred with the perfect blend of markings, allowed her to easily melt into the shadows of the night. The only telltale color to give her away being the pale cream of the tip of her nose. A short haired mane trickled apon her shoulders, where a thicker mane would have grown had she been male. Twin pools of black shifted upward to watch as a blanket of clouds engulfed the moon, and she took the chance to slink closer to the pride's sleeping area. Tezcatlipoca had no intention of causing harm, but this test would prove to her the kind of leadership this pride had. A faint rustle to her left, and the deliberate snap of a twig made her freeze in place. Turning her head slowly she peered in the direction the sound had come from, her long, agile tail twitching, tufted ears slowly swiveling forward. Overhead the clouds slowly peeled away from the moon, and as it cast a silvery glow back upon the world Tezcatlipoca saw just what, or rather who, had spotted her. The King himself, the Goat of Mendes, sat upon his regal haunches mere feet away, watching her with keen green eyes. Tezcatlipoca slowly rose from her crouch, stealth no longer needed, her eyes narrowed slightly, and the corners of her muzzle lifted slightly, flashing the tips of her sabers in a faint smirk. Color her impressed. This pride just might be worth her time, and the King was handsome to boot. Lowering her eyes, she dipped her head in respect to her new King.
-------------- Goat of Mendes' POV --------------------------------------------------------------------
The hot air congealed in front of him, and out of it materialized a gleaming lion of most bizarre appearance. She held up a large muscular head marked with splotches of pure darkness, a broad spotted chest lined with scratches of grey that daintily shone in the crisp morning light. The large cat stood strong infront of The Goat Of Mendes, making even he look weak. She watched him with a steedy eye, her face, glazed with a deep darkness, had a jeering look about it. The Goat Of Mendes stood infront of her, which put him eye to eye with the devilish lionness whose brilliant, burning gaze poured into his worthless soul like oil, whose down-turned mouth frothed and slightly larger than normal teeth gleemed, seemlingly begging to be pushed through the male's rough pelt. He then whispered something into her ear, something which suprisingly enough made her smile. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal happiness in it. Her eyes glowed with delight and pure neediness before following the king back into his territory and entering a dimly-lit cave. He stared at her with bliss and desperateness before following her inside. A thick stream of lushious flowering vines provided the two lions privacy from the outside world but even so, the devil, their god, watched upon them that morning.
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