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A son of the great Tacitus, grandson of Phage.
Saratoga, born Tusk, came into this life frail. Born sickly and limp, he made not a word when born.
His mother fought for his safety and his life, at 5 months old his king demanded his mother to send him away. His mother retaliated, baring her teeth and shielding her son from Charzync.
“You cannot take him from me!”
She cried, anger in her eyes. Tusk hid under his mom, cowering beneath her powerful form. After a mass of exchanged words and a fight between his mother and his king, his mother returned to him with cuts and bruises her head held low. His king said,
“That boy is sick, he will not survive and I have no interest in wasting food on a lost cause.”
With that, he was sent away. His mother whispered something in his ear and he began to walk towards the horizon.
3 days pass and Tusk began to feel tired, his head hung low and his small body trembling. As he lays down to rest and closes his eyes, a large lion approaches him.
“Who are you?”
The booming voice called. Tusk jumped, his shoulders shaking and his heart pounding.
“T-Tusk?”
He whimpered. In a moment, the large lion paused and stared at the cub, then said,
“Who is your mother, young one? Where are you supposed to be?”
“My mother is…was Rouge. I have no clan anymore.”
The large lions eyes widened a bit, remembering the night he had with this cubs mother, he looked around, then said,
“Come along, we have a long walk back to my pride. I am Tacitus, your father.”
Tusk, although shocked, figured Tacitus had no reason to lie about being his father and chose to follow him. Going to a random pride was better than dying alone out in the Savannah.
As they arrived at the cave entrance about 3 hours later, Tusk saw a diverse group of lionesses. Young and old, some with strange colors and markings. Nevertheless they welcomed him with open arms, a young lioness named Specks approached him and took him under her wing.
At just 5 months old, Saratoga gained his name and began to work to make his father proud.
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