|
IF ABOUT TO RETIRE, RETURN HER TO ALEKSY! #494754
(Please do not remove decorations, unless you have added them)
“I belong to no one—and to everything.”
Born beneath the light of a pale moon, Nyirabeth’s sterling coat gleamed like frost over the savannah, marking her as different from the start—a gift from the night itself—or so the legends speak.
She was a restless soul, drawn not to the safety of the pride but to the unknown horizons beyond it. Wherever she roams, whispers follow: a lioness of silver who walks with the wind, appearing in the dusk and gone by dawn.
Though her paws leave no lasting trail, her presence is unforgettable. Nyirabeth carries the wild within her, untamed and ever-moving. Those who cross her path speak of her piercing blue gaze, a reflection of endless journeys and untold secrets.
Some call her a guide; others, a ghost. But to those who dare to ask why she never stays, she leaves them with this:
“The wind does not answer to roots—neither will I.”
Arrived at: #494754, Aleksy's den!
Stayed for: 1 Roll Over
Added Decoration?: Yes!
Handed over too: #460902
Arrived at: #460902, Falling Star's den
Stayed for: 4 Rollovers
Added Decoration?: Yep (Poacher Cloth Wraps)
Handed over too: Kle #129483
Arrived at: Kle #129483
Stayed for: 7 rollovers (bred her; 1 cub)
Added Decoration?: pose
Handed over too: cocochino #500483
Arrived at: #500483, Lithobate’s Den
Stayed for: 01/11/2025 – 02/05/2025 = 25 roll overs
Added Decoration?: Tail Wrap [Brown}
Handed over to: #502009
Nyirabeth’s thoughts are interrupted as she hears what sounds like cubs squabbling nearby. She hadn’t noticed she had wandered so close into a random pride’s territory. After a few seconds pass, however, she realizes the cubs are not being watched. They most likely snuck away from their brood mother to go on their own little exploration. Nyirabeth decides to move closer to the noise, to watch the cubs from afar. She’d rather not get involved, but she’s not just going to let a cub get into an accident, either.
And just like she expected, one of the cubs ran directly into the river nearby. That’s why you look forward when you’re running. She runs down to the riverbed and scoops the cub up. The water wasn’t really that deep, but cubs are small, and crocodiles are always present.
“T-thank you…” the soaked cub said as she was placed back on the ground. Both cubs know the danger of wandering lions, and their weariness shows in the way they both shuffle back, and how their eyes never leave her. Well at least the cubs have some survival instincts.
“Lions belong with their pride, your mothers are probably very worried.” Nyirabeth sees the irony in her statement but nonetheless means it.
As she scolds them, she notices that the cubs look… odd. The one she rescued doesn’t even look like a lion. Is it? The cub has larger paws and teeth, along with odd markings on her body. The other cub looks normal at a glance, but her coat is too red, and her eyes look… unnatural.
Niyrabeth decides to take them back to their pride, where the cubs are met with a group of upset brood mothers. Niyrabeth is greeted by Lithobate, and she immediately sees the resemblance to all the odd cubs running around.
“I hear you brought back our mischeivious duo, thank you. I don’t even want to imagine what could have happened if you hadn’t been there. Please, stay awhile.”
Niyabeth ended up staying longer than she had planned. She planned on staying for only a few days, but the kindness of this pride has kept her from leaving so soon. She’s made up her mind to leave tonight. Leave while everyone’s asleep so no one can tempt her into staying longer.
Arrived at: hazel#502009
Stayed for: xx
Added Decoration?: p
Handed over too: xx
he moon hung high, a watchful eye over the slumbering savanna. The pride nestled together in soft murmurs of sleep, their gentle breaths rustling through the grass like wind through leaves. Nyirabeth stood at the edge of their resting place, her sterling coat kissed by moonlight, her blue eyes reflecting the boundless horizon.
She had stayed too long.
This pride was kind—warmer than most she had encountered in her endless wandering. The cubs had grown fond of her, their laughter like birdsong as they wove between her legs, asking for stories of the world beyond their borders. Lithobate had welcomed her with gratitude, offering her food, shelter, and something far more dangerous—belonging.
Nyirabeth exhaled, steadying herself.
She had never belonged.
Soft pawsteps approached, nearly silent, but she knew who it was before turning. Lithobate. The lioness stood in the moonlight, her expression unreadable.
“You’re leaving,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
Nyirabeth didn’t respond at first. Instead, she let the silence stretch, her gaze fixed on the sky. “I always do.”
Lithobate sighed, stepping closer. “You don’t have to.”
Nyirabeth let out a soft chuckle. “I do. The wind does not answer to roots.”
A pause. “Neither do you.”
Nyirabeth turned to face her then, searching for disappointment, anger, perhaps even hurt. But there was none. Lithobate understood. She had always understood.
“Thank you,” Nyirabeth said, voice quieter now. “For giving me a place to rest. But I was born beneath an open sky, and I will die beneath one, too.”
Lithobate nodded. “I won’t ask you to stay. But know that if you ever find yourself weary, you have a place here.”
For a moment, something ached in Nyirabeth’s chest—a feeling both foreign and familiar. But she pushed it down, the way she always had.
“Take care of those odd cubs of yours,” she murmured. “They’ll need someone to teach them how to run without tripping into rivers.”
Lithobate huffed a small laugh. “I will.”
Without another word, Nyirabeth turned and padded into the tall grass, her sterling pelt soon swallowed by the darkness. The night wrapped around her like an old friend, whispering in her ears, welcoming her home.
---
The night was vast, an endless stretch of ink-stained sky freckled with stars. Nyirabeth moved like a wraith beneath it, her sterling coat blending into the silver-lit savanna. The wind whispered through the acacias, carrying scents of unfamiliar lions—strong, territorial, but not aggressive.
She had heard of this lion in passing. A name carried by the wind, spoken of with respect. A pride unlike most, led by a lion whose presence was said to be as immovable as the great baobabs. Nyirabeth had not planned to seek them out. And yet, here she was, standing at the edge of their borders, drawn by an unseen force.
The land here was different—lush, the scent of fresh water lingering in the air. She could hear the distant rumble of a waterfall, the chirrups of insects, the steady rustling of leaves. This was no dry, sun-scorched kingdom. It was alive, thriving.
A rustle in the grass.
Nyirabeth didn’t move. She had been seen.
From the shadows, golden eyes gleamed. Then, a figure emerged—a lion, larger than most, his presence like the weight of an approaching storm. His mane was dark as onyx, long and thick, framing a face of quiet authority. Khafren.
She met his gaze, unflinching, her own blue eyes like twin shards of ice.
“You’ve wandered far,” he said, his voice low and even.
Nyirabeth’s lips curled slightly. “I always do.”
His gaze flickered over her, taking in the silver of her pelt, the faint celestial markings that danced along her body like whispers of moonlight. Recognition flickered in his expression—not of her, but of what she was. A spirit of the wild. A creature untethered.
“You’ve come to stay?”
She tilted her head, amused by the assumption. “I never stay.”
Khafren huffed a quiet laugh. “Then why have you crossed my borders?”
Nyirabeth exhaled, glancing at the pride lands behind him. She hadn’t meant to. Not really. But something about this place—about him—was different. It was a land untouched by greed, a lion who ruled with wisdom rather than force. It was... intriguing.
“I was curious,” she admitted. “And curiosity has always been my downfall.”
Khafren’s gaze held hers for a long moment, unreadable. Then, with a flick of his tail, he turned. “Then satisfy it,” he said over his shoulder. “See what my pride has to offer.”
It was not a command. It was an invitation.
Nyirabeth hesitated for the briefest moment before stepping forward, following him into the unknown.
For the first time in a long while, she did not think about when she would leave. Only about what she might find.
|
"
"
