Zarinda

Zarinda was given to the pride as a gift, in hopes of bringing peace with another pride on the edges of Groyal's territory. This succeeded, at least momentarily. She was a fine, and beautiful lioness that Groyal was more than happy to take on. Though her looks were not all that intrigued him. She had a certain skill that none of his other pride members yet had...The skills of potions and other mystical things. She enjoyed exploring forests or lands around the edges of the pride's territory, to collect plants, berries, and other such things. These items were often used to make her little potions, with a mixture of sweet and bitter flavors. Sometimes she was even able to blend healing salves. This became useful in keeping the pride members healthy.

She quickly became one of the brood mothers of the pride; useful not only in medical needs, but as well as caring for the little ones. Sometimes, she would even take them on walks around the forests, and show them a few of her skills; the cubs learning which plants and fruits were safe to use, and which perhaps not so much.

Though, there did tend to be one sensitive spot for Zarinda that she would not speak about when the cubs would curiously mention it. The many tiny cuts and scars along all of her paws. There was a reason, after all, that her old pride wanted to give her away, and it wasn't just because she was an enticing offer. In one of her experiments with different liquids, and attempting to make a small fire to brew a potion...It would splash out, and turn out to be quite a flammable mixture. The fire would burst and spread quickly; engulfing their territory and the long, dry grass. Too fast for some of the cubs to escape as it encircled them. In their haste, a lot of her pride had run over her potion bottles; smashing them and sending glass along the ground.

In her attempts to save the cubs from the flame, Zarinda would have to walk over this glass, as this small opening was the only way through. She didn't have much time to make another plan, and it had to be done. But this was but a small price to pay, in hopes of saving the young. In the end, she was able to save a few, but could only carry so many...And unfortunately, quite a few young ones were lost that day. Her pride never did forgive her for that, and she never truly forgave herself. They viewed her once heroic hobby as a dangerous curse. The scars were painful reminders of the danger in her craft; pushing her to be much more aware and careful when she would make any further potions.