Pandora began her journey in a little-known territory known to it’s residents as Seven Sisters, as the founders of the pride were fallen stars from the cluster of the same name. Despite tumbling from their beloved home, they retained the stains from stardust that left them looking like chunks of the night sky that had come down for a visit. Some, the eldest, had eyes filled with stars from gazing at their beloved clusters for so many years. Pandora’s mother was one of the few pride members not related to one of the founders, or a fallen star herself, so she stood out with her pitch-black coat with it’s casual orange tinges. Among the rarest of lions, she was unique in her plainness. Her name was Cali, and she was a loving if forgetful mother. Pandora’s father was a descendant of a fallen star, and had ghostly white wings that matched his empty white eyes.

The Seven Sisters pride was isolated, meaning the members had no idea how coveted their coats were. They lived in peaceful ignorance. It was a beautiful night, and the sky was so clear that pride members blended in with the stars. Their eyes and noses were the only way to pick them out as they sat framed by their lost home, gazing up with painful longing. Pandora heard a rustle in some nearby bushes and looked over, frightened; her mother nuzzled her and told her it was no more than a stray warthog. It would be the last words the kindly Cali would say to her only child.

Eight massive, determined kings lept from the darkness. Those with the precious star-stained coats were bound and carried away by the robbers; Pandora would never know what became of her mother, whose coat was not at all valuable. She passed out in fear.

When Pandora awoke, she was in a cave with her fellow pride members- well, most of them. The kings were gathered outside, talking to other males who had sacks full of golden bugs. They were talking about “interstellar” coats and “galaxy” eyes. They looked over their shoulders with relish and greed every so often. Pandora comforted the youngest pride members, Deneb and Algol, twin sisters- They had fallen only a few days before, and were only three weeks old. The largest king came over with a rope and opened the wire at the front of the cave- another king handed over a sack or two of bugs, and a sweet young lioness known as Vega was lead away. Slowly, the cave emptied and her dearest friends and family members were taken from her. When only five of them were left- herself, the twins, Capella and Alcor, she had made her mind up. When the door opened, she ran under the king (he was so tall she needed not even to duck) and fled into the woodland. With the speed of a shooting star, she was gone.

For a year or two, Pandora travelled all over the drab Earth, avoiding the kings and queens she knew would entrap her in a heartbeat. Over time, she grew black patches over her beautiful coat from always being awake during the day; her starstains were rubbing off, and her coat would never be the same again.

One blindingly bright morning, the sun’s rays assaulting her delicate coat, Pandora stumbled upon another lioness. Her coat was the jolly orange of a manderin. She looked petrified. “Hello there, stranger. Don’t be afraid” Pandora said delicately.
“Please, please don’t capture me!” the orange lioness begged.
“I won’t, I’m also on the run from those greedy idiots” Pandora answered, snarling at the word greedy. The pair teamed up and carried on together. A few months into their adventures, they found a small territory ruled by an old and sick king. The king had no heir nor any lionesses; they stalked the territory, and once he died they claimed it for their own.

Over time, more lionesses hiding from capture due to their deformities or coats came and sought shelter with Pandora. She named her pride The Second Seven Sisters, and has ruled in peace ever since. She can return to being nocturnal, as she no longer has to fear for her safety, saving half of her coat from being bleached and cleaned of her stardust. To be extra careful, she wears a special shawl.