#794208900919
Belongs to ~𝓐𝓹𝓱𝓻𝓸disiac~'s Pride
(View Former Prides)

Dusted with Stars

This lioness gave birth in the past two years. She is on a breeding cool down and will be breedable again in 15 real life days.

Lion Stats
Experience	5030 / 2750 (100%)
Level	6
Strength	10	Speed	16
Stamina	17	Smarts	18
Agility	26	Skill	25
Born With:	Unknown	Total Stats:	112

Lion Currents
Age	4 years, 7 months old
Hunger	0%
Mood	100%
Sex	Female
Pose	Default
Personality	Timid (Snarky)

Adult Stage

Breeding Info
Father	Unknown	Mother	Unknown	View Full Heritage
Last Bred	8 days ago	Fertility	Very Low	View All Cubs Bred (1)

Appearance		Markings
Base	Jet (Black Skin)	Slot 1: Blue Poinsettia Indri (68%) Tier 3 Slot 4: Cimmerian Inverted Zebra (92%) Tier 6 Slot 5: Protea Snuggle (83%) Tier 3 Slot 7: Interstellar Feralis (56%) Tier 3 Slot 8: Pistachio Shell (44%) Tier 1 This lion has 2 markings hidden on the following slots: 11, 13
Genetics	Black Dark Solid Common
Eyes	Albinoid
Mane Type	Thick
Mane Color	Goldenrod
Mutation	None
Marking Slots	10

Equipped Decorations Hide/Show
Grassy Den Above Hanging Rosemary Little Rascal - Primal Reed Canary Grass [1] Below Taurus Fir Lebombo Cycad Muddy Slopes

Lifetime Hunting Results
Total Hunts	0	Successful Hunts	0	Success Rate	0%

Biography
In the dimness of the queen's den, gentle mewls are squealed to a backdrop of deep, gentle purrs. The dappled light that filters through the branches used to shade the entrance dances across the pelt of a lioness, the colors leaping in the golden afternoon sunlight. As she moves through the den, it is as though the night sky itself is dancing amongst the cubs. "Um, sorry to bother you," she says, "but nobody outside the pride is allowed into the queen's den. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Her tone is gentle but firm. You decide it's best to listen to her warning.

Biography

In the dimness of the queen's den, gentle mewls are squealed to a backdrop of deep, gentle purrs. The dappled light that filters through the branches used to shade the entrance dances across the pelt of a lioness, the colors leaping in the golden afternoon sunlight. As she moves through the den, it is as though the night sky itself is dancing amongst the cubs.

"Um, sorry to bother you," she says, "but nobody outside the pride is allowed into the queen's den. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Her tone is gentle but firm. You decide it's best to listen to her warning.

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