Sidifur's Den

The King

Sidifur was born to a litter of nine. Naturally, a litter of such a large size had it's casualties; due to illness, competition from the siblings, and predation. With him leaning towards the smaller end of his littermates, he often found himself entangled with these obstacles but somehow made it through. A sort of quiet ambition with the facade of easygoing optimism seems to be a theme with him.

He is a stocky, compact lion built more like a bulldog than a feline, and his bright expressive eyes can lean puppylike as well. Named for the rays and flecks of gold and shine along his nocturne pelt, he is colored like the light in the darkness; a reflection of who he is. Upon becoming a king, he has gotten a lot bigger and stronger and is finally a respectable male lion size, though he never was too hung up on his size to begin with. The only thing Sidifur is hung up on is the past; the romanization of his adventures as a rogue male with his companions; days of thrill and danger. Even more that that, however, is the sudden and gruesome way things had ended. He aspires to have a pride that will never have to see the things that he has, and promises to mask those horrors with a happy laugh and bright smile so long as he lives.

The Owbokila Pride

Like the waters of the marshlands itself, the culture of the Owbokila is as still as fluid can be. The marshes can be brutal and beautiful, and so can Sidifur's Queen. She is an endless pool of empathy and understanding who laughs and cries along the best and worst moments of her fellow lionesses. But she also understands that she is preparing the next generation to be born here for a cruel world, especially within their own home. She instructs the lionesses to be role models for the next generation and promises to carry their stories with her so that they may be engrained into their mythos. She expects nothing less than absolute devotion to their fellow pride members, and providing anything less will swiftly get you exiled onto the borders.

The huntresses are divided into two groups. The young and inexperienced are often broken down into groups no bigger than 4 and hunt outside of the marshes or look for especially hydrophobic meat. The experienced who hunt within the land-sometimes even the waters. The pride tries to avoid meat that comes from the marshland's water when possible; it first has to be filtered through the crossroads into meat chunks picked clean of pesky parasites for a quite a bit of beetles. The cost of the processing meat is balanced with the abundance of beetles the land has to offer, but it is best to hold onto wealth when possible.

Sidifur, of course, is the one to do the meat hauls and financing for the pride. He also explores far beyond even where the huntresses will go to collect new stories and spread the words of their pride. Because he offers it both as a permanent home and a shelter for rogue females who don't plan to settle, he is fairly popular. It is noted that Sidifur seems to be very particular in his tastes and doesn't really mate outside of them, so his pride also acts as a last hope shelter for expecting mothers and lionesses waiting out their heats. Unfortunately the marshlands is more than capable of doing harm themselves, and it isn't uncommon for lionesses to admit they don't have what it takes to stay in the marshes after all. Sidifur is fine with this, of course. So long as their reputation remains a pleasant one, he is happy for lionesses to leave and take a bit of story with them.

The History

The young and ambitious Sidifur sets out to claim whatever land he can and due to his status, is pushed possibly to the most inhabitable of them all. Owbokila Pride was founded in the marshes; some of the most ancient lands to behold; wise and uncaring to it's inhabitants. Due to disease, drowning, and highly adapted predators, it isn't the most welcoming lands for the warm-blooded animals of the savannah, and the pride spends a lot of time away from it. At the core of their territories is a dead space in the marshes; the smell of smoke and some other perplexing scent seems to ward off anything bigger than a mouse. The land is dry and like dust. It lacks a lot of the foliage of the rest of the marshes. Ancient gullies sculpted into burrows and shelters in some bygone age act as the caves of the home base, but it's quiet and dour appearance leaves a lot to be desired.

And yet...

Despite everything, the small pride is thriving. The lionesses in his pride find Sidifur's upbeat personality endearing. They insist the environment builds character. The few lionesses that are charmed by Sidifur but find his land too inhospitable check in with him from time to time. He has a powerful and healthy line that although tends to fall to tragedy, lately at least one of his cubs rise to the top and make it to adulthood. But it seems to be an especially hard struggle for the males.
Sidifur was able to sire a strong and healthy daughter with his chosen queen, Datura. The Owbokila Pride rejoices and tries not to think about the other who did not survive his first cold and dark night in the lands. She has grown to show that she too can produce healthy offspring from time to time, so there is hope that if Sidifur does not produce an heir, he will have one as a grandson. A creature in the guise of a lion has seen the struggles of the pride and has offered help; they say their name is Benthos will produce an heir if they and their kind can be welcomed into the pride. After much deliberation with Datura, Sidifur agrees. Bethos lives up to their end of the bargain and produces a powerful male, and not too long after a creature by the name Demersos joins the pride. Whatever they are seems to be of little consequence for now as their offspring despite their looks seem to at least have the heart of a lion. Things remain stable in the Owbokila pride.