Empusa

A brief summary of who Empusa is.

Empusa is a good, lawful lioness; those who know her tell this to be true.

And yet...lions cannot help but feel...unsettled, in her presence.

They attribute this feeling to the intense gaze that her eyes have, a gaze that seems to pierce into hearts, thoughts, and souls, as if she can see into the very essence of who a lion was, and judged all that they were. However, this was a silly thought; no creature could see so far; she was merely unfortunate to have taken after her parents, whoever they were.

If asked who her parents are, Empusa will simply shake her head as if apologetic, stating that she hasn't an idea; that she'd not seen them since she was a cub, and had long forgotten during her lonely travels before settling in the pride.

Empusa seems to be fascinated with the young lions just starting out to make their own prides. She socializes with them shyly at times, praises their courage, and bids them good fortune with whatever future cubs and mate they may have---all while wreathing around them, her tail gliding along their shoulders, under the chin, as if tempting them.

Clearly, she fancied lions with youth; and while some didn't mind, others felt she ought to seek out a mate her own age, rather than being a 'cougar'. Even though she was good, she was so plain; surely they' wanted prettier mates..?

"What do you hope to gain from spending time with those handsome young lions?" One hunter asked curiously.


Empusa gave them a smile; one that didn't reach her eyes, before giving a simple, yet chilling reply.

"Everything."


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Warning: Past this point, the biography WILL get long, and will detail historic points in her life.
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Empusa came back to the pride, a warm smile on her face; and over the course of a few weeks, they would see her flanks beginning to swell with the proof of unborn cubs. When prompted, Empusa would say she'd been visiting the local prides to greet their kings and befriend some of the lionesses; she'd met a handsome, well-established primal king, who's energetic adventures and virility had led to a safe kingdom and many happy lionesses. She confessed that she'd been impressed; perhaps, infatuated on the spot; and that she'd requested the chance to raise his cubs.

Her pridemates had been surprised that a primal---a Smilus, no less, would have taken notice of Empusa---but the longer they thought on it, the more logical it seemed; she had not been there long, but she was quickly proving herself to be a capable hunter, and despite her unnerving eyes, she didn't have a hostile hair on her body; the cubs adored her and she was quick to lend a paw to the other lionesses, no matter how mundane a task might be; she was easy to like.

Of course her personality had won the handsome fellow over; and they were pleased for her.

Now, they wait alongside her, eager to see what cubs she will bring into the world, and Empusa says; "Whether they come out just as stunning as their father, or if they take after my own humble appearance, I will love them dearly."
---

Empusa rested in the den, fondly licking one of her two cubs between the ears, a purr rumbling in her throat. Her cubs were only a month old at the moment---but they were nursing well, allowing her to have small periods of time where she could leave the den and stretch her legs. Echo, the pride's broodmother, was watching from a few tail-lengths away, her eldritch eyes gazing at the Lioness and her cubs. 'You must be very proud, Empusa. A daughter and a son.'

The lioness gave a rusty purr. "They look like their father; as they should." She looked down at them with pride, before easing up onto all fours, her spine arching, tail kinked over her back as she gave a long, languid stretch.

'Oh; Empusa---your tail-'

Empusa glanced over her shoulder, tail flicking forth. "What about it?"
--'It looks...different..'

She gave a chuckle. "I probably dragged it through something while I went for a stroll to stretch my legs, Echo; I'll give it a wash later, and my fur should go back to its usual color." Echo gave a chuff of exasperation. 'Be sure to do so before your cubs lick and bite at your tail; you don't want them to get sick from whatever is clinging to your fur.'

"Of course," she replies, before lying down, letting her cubs flop against her for a nap as Echo padded out of the den.

Her son idly pawed at her golden-tail, and she bobbed it in front of him indulgently. She wasn't worried about her precious cub getting sick from something on her tail. After all, markings weren't infectious, or dangerous.

---

Two years have gone by, and Empusa's first litter have grown to be fine lions.

They get odd looks within the pride at times, due to their names---or lack of names, rather---but Empusa places the blame for that wholly on the father, who she'd taken them to as cubs---only to never get any input from him. Perhaps he hadn't recognized her---or the cubs had been too different for them to accept as his own---but they'd left disappointed. And so, they had remained 'Son' and 'Daughter', doing their best to hold their heads high despite it.


And when her next heat cycle came---Empusa was a little more...choosy with her next prospective mate. She encountered a hyperactive, fine lion, not quite as old as her last mate, but certainly with more spring to his step.

One thing led to another, and after a playful tumble through the reed grass, she'd left feeling fulfilled, certain that she had been blessed yet again with another litter of cubs. And sure enough---Echo would be looking after her, curiously asking whether she would be naming the cubs herself this time around, or if she planned to leave it up to the cubs sire.


"I will be certain that they get names fitting of them," she'd said with an edge to her voice. "My mistake was assuming that my last litters sire would have interest in them even if they didn't turn out to be rare, prized cubs. I will not make the same mistake with these. If he seeks them out---he may have a paw in naming them---but only then."

---

She lost her cubs.

While she had been asleep, her cubs had gone off to play, and no matter where she and her pridemates looked, they were nowhere to be found. And oh, how Empusa and Echo had gotten into a row about how the other lioness was the den mother, how she should have been keeping an eye on her children---it was ugly---and it had tails swishing uneasily with the surprising cruelty that the plain lioness had spat at the long-furred lioness who, though saddened by the loss of two cubs that would have made the pride strong---refused to claim sole responsibility for the incident.

'If you had told me you were going to rest, I would have called them to me. I cannot keep an eye on every cub, at every moment---especially when I'm under the mistaken assumption that one of their mothers is looking after them.'

She was not harsh with her words---but calm---and stern.


And in the face of that simple truth---forced to accept that she carried equal blame in the loss of her cubs, Empusa collapsed to the ground and wept into her paws, her broken heart aching for the cubs who should be at her side still.

A tongue rasped along her neck, and a warm pelt settled next to her, the broodmother letting the hunter sob for as long as she needed while she took care of her, too, along with her other, equally precious responsibilities.