Reaver

Born with a pelt naturally resembling camouflage, Reaver accepted early on that they would be overlooked by many. Even her previous king would forget she was around. Who knows whether it was neglect or her ability to blend into the woodland that turned others' eyes away.
As the nights and days passed, months and then years, she grew further and further from her previous home, instead taking to the company of the local wildlife. Having a particular curiosity toward shrikes, who would spear their prey upon thorny bushes like their own personal little trophy case. She got closer, and closer still, moving slowly enough that moss began to grow atop her fur and leaves became stuck between her pawpads.

The birds, not seeming to mind her presence, if they even saw her at all, continued to leave their prey hung upon the spikes branches. The lioness took the little carcasses as snacks of her own. Paying the little hunters back with larger fresher strips meat from the river teaming with fish.
They were hers now. Her own little pride, a feathery pack of hunters and huntresses, singing songs of their victories for her to listen to alone in the distant woods...