'67_ChevyImpala (#478204)

Bought for 345GB
- 105 pure
- 6 crunchies (40gb each)

7BO
Stats:12

First heat: 2 cubs, 1 blind double PR
Second heat: 3 cubs, 1 Achromia
Third heat:
Fourth heat:
Fifth heat:
Sixth heat:
Seventh heat:
Eigth heat:

You find Jag sparrow practicing a hunting pounce that she was bad at. You tell her she COULD take a break, but no...she won't stop until she gets it just right!

Lore because Im bored
TW, its sad.

Jag Sparrow, a young, majestic jaglion, lay shivering in the cold, damp wet savannah. Her larger-than-usual cub-sized body trembled beneath her, her legs threatening to collapse under the weight of her own desperation. The muddy ground seemed to suck the warmth from her bones, leaving her feeling hollow and vulnerable.

As she gazed up at the grey sky, Jag's thoughts drifted back to her pride, the one that had shunned her for being an abomination. Her mother, a first-generation hybrid jaguar, had been accepted by the pride, but only grudgingly, and only because of the unique abilities she possessed as a result of her mixed heritage.

Jag's eyes dropped, and she surveyed her surroundings once more. The wet savannah stretched out before her, a seemingly endless expanse of mud, water, and twisted, dead trees. A rotten, broken tree trunk caught her eye, its hollowed-out interior offering a meager shelter from the elements.

With a mixture of desperation and determination, Jag padded towards the tree trunk, her paws sinking into the mud. She squeezed through the narrow opening, her body scraping against the rough bark. The interior was cramped, dirty, and cold, but it was better than nothing.

As Jag settled into her makeshift shelter, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was staring into the abyss, with no safety net to catch her if she fell. Her mother's abilities, the very thing that had earned her a place in the pride, seemed like a distant memory, a cruel reminder of everything Jag was not.

Just as Jag's thoughts began to spiral into despair, she heard a rustling outside the tree trunk. She froze, her ears perked up, as a regal, fiery-coated lioness peered into the shelter. It was Phoenix, the queen of Hell Stone pride, her piercing gaze seeming to bore into Jag's very soul. For a moment, the two simply regarded each other, Jag's fear and uncertainty slowly giving way to a glimmer of hope.

"Come with me, little one," Phoenix said, her voice low and soothing. "I'll take you in, and you'll be safe. You'll be part of our pride, and we'll protect you."

For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt a sense of belonging, of being seen and accepted for who she was. And with that, Jag Sparrow's journey began, one that would take her from the depths of despair to the heights of courage and resilience.