quick pawsteps led the small man away from the outskirts, their barren and open stretches making him increasingly uncomfortable. it felt as if the vultures which circled in the skies would dive and claim his flesh at any moment. of course, realistically, he knew that to be highly unlikely. the creatures were only interested in the corpses of the dead, not a lion which would fight back. all the same, sorin continued on quickly toward the lush outcrop of forests just on the horizon. they beaconed to the copper-colored beast like an oasis in the desert. he'd grown up in the comforting clutches of woods, used to the dappled sunlight they provided, and plentiful shade. not to mention, the oh so soft cushion of leaf litter beneath his paws.
pawpads had been rubbed rather sore with all of his adventuring as of late. being booted from home hadn't boded well with him, even if living with is father had been even less pleasant. it was actually quite intimidating to be out on his lonesome, without others to watch his back or keep conversation with. it was with great hopes that sorin ventured into the shade of the loscar wilds, the foliage guarding his back while he paced through the thick tree trunks. nostrils twitched as the lion tried to detect the presence of anyone else here. surely a pride would have gathered here already, but he found none.
beside himself, he couldn't let the chance slip. a call of claim slipped from his lips before he could truly think about it. hopefully it would usher in some friendly faces, at least? oops.
Mireya could not deny her curiousity when the possessive call of a stranger stake a claim on one of the prized wooded lands. Her spotted paws carried her nimble and petite frame through the redwoods, glancing cautiously up at the trees. They were if a height she had not yet ascended to, but they called to her. She began by scaling one of the smaller trees to see if she could spy whoever claimed this kingdom. It was a risk for the small spotted cat to take and one that paid off. Soon enough she was balanced on one of the lower branches, using her climbing skills to maneuver through the trees until she was close enough to stare down at the brownish mottled lion. His mane was shorter than average making her wonder if he were still on the cusp between adolescence and adulthood. Her tail tuft brushed lightly over the bark of the redwood as her curious pink eyes watched the stranger in silence.
The trees were her personal kingdom and she silently wondered if he felt the same sense of belonging up above or if he merely enjoyed the shelter they provided. She swung her spotted legs over both sides of the branch, lounging lazily as she gave up on the idea of remaining hidden. It would be much more fun to see how long it took for him to realise he had company. The lioness had a fondness for creeping up on others that had not diminished with age. The elders of her tribe were greatly disappointed by her childish antics, but they admired her aptitude for stealth. Staying hidden and out of sight was something she had grown tired of. Her tribes intense fear of strangers had left them in a generational state of isolation living deep in the wilds secluded away from other groups of lions. Finally she was free and could exercise her own freedom to mingle with whoever she pleased. Although it hadn't stopped some shyness and wariness from rubbing off on her. It was part of the reason she refused to leave her tree and greet the stranger face to face.
If Morrigan has learned anything from life, it is that she will inevitably be disappointed. Today is no different, and the rallying cry that disrupts the serenity of the forest certainly falls within the category of disappointing. The murmur of the smaller forest residents falls silent in the wake of the roar, and she cannot help the curl of her lip as a sizzle of irritation runs amok in her veins. Her limbs are moving before any real thought forms in her mind, and the buttery dapples of sunlight piercing the canopy run across her back, warm and familiar, though the gold is devoured by the cool silver of her fur. The lioness wends her way past familiar trees that grace the border of the forest, until the needle-dusted ground takes on a strangeness that makes her nervous. Morrigan has, thus far, made herself at home on the edges of this place, but now the depths beckon to her with the siren song of curiosity.
When she finds him, her pale amethyst eyes snap to his face, scouring each and every contour with unabashed fierceness. Morrigan leaves some distance between them, erring on the side of caution above all else; this lion is a stranger, and men tended towards irrationality, in her unfortunate experience. "and who might you be, who so courageously lays claim on a place that was doing quite well without you, thank you very much?" She is being belligerent, but can't scrounge up an ounce of care for manners. Her dark, ashen shoulders roll and then settle as she adopts a broad stance, tail twitching and ears alert. It isn't until this moment that she realizes he isn't alone, and there is a presence somewhere above them - she can smell the other lioness, but is unwilling to risk looking away from this potential adversary.
Silvain had never been the forest-y sort, but he was definitely the curious sort, and when he caught wind of lingering, fresh scents of strangers he wasn't about to ignore it. With poised steps, the charmer passed through the ruby trunks, liking the way the thick pine-needled ground softened the sound. What wasn't softened was the loud call that echoed through the dense forest. Oh-ho, a claim.
With more haste, Silvain was able to track down the small gathering. There was a copper-pelted lion, whom Silvain immediately assumed was the claimer. Interesting. Greeting him with an even nod, Silvain was careful to keep his head level as he stepped to join the small gathering. Although there was definitely more than two scents here, he could only see two gathered. His attention turned to the surly silver lioness, finding her indignantion entertaining. After all, he wasn't here to counter-claim. He was just here to munch the metaphorical popcorn and see what went down.
"Did you live here then, dear?" he asked of Morrigan. Silvain was intrigued and equally mischevious. Was there anything he could rile up here?
the eyes of another skimmed his pelt, watched him from afar. this much, sorin could detect. he could feel the prickle of someone's attention, but as teal gaze slipped by his surroundings, he couldn't seem to place the creature which slunk in the shadows. there was little worry at this however, as he figured any lion hoping to contest his claim would come running with guns blazing. not to mention, the scent which drifted toward him was not that of the sort that typically played challenger. a lioness. perhaps a future comrade? or maybe she was biding her time. either way, sorin soon had others to worry about.
a silver woman came into view quite swiftly, her demeanor aggressive and displeased. he stared at her, not with anger or the intent to make her submit, but confusion. there hadn't been any scents claiming these woods. sorin would have gladly asked to enter rather than traipse in and arrogantly claim, had he known another wanted this place for themselves. he was not a selfish or cunning man. perhaps a bit foolish, but never quite comfortable with trampling on the toes of others where unnecessary. and as another arrived - a male this time - the copper brute grew a tad uncomfortable. it felt very similar to being cornered, and as a smaller lion he didn't find it all that pleasant.
however, the male simply nodded and spoke to the woman. it seemed he too wanted to understand her intent and the source of her anger here. so he'd return his gaze to her and smile sheepishly. "i meant no harm, miss. i grew up in woods only half as beautiful as these, and have laid claim only to invite others to share it with me." he cleared his throat, hoping this would smooth down her ruffled feathers, but uncertain if it would do the job. "you are more than welcome to stay, if you'd like. i don't plan to restrict or oppress anybody, i simply seek to live in peace." glancing between the two, he hoped his demeanor was welcoming enough.
The spotted cat noticed others arriving shortly after the call rang out and she'd ascended the trees. Their ears pricked up in her direction signalling that they knew of a silent observer nearby. A grey woman seemed ruffled by the mottled boy's presumptuous claim of the territory she claimed to inhabit. How unfortunate that her home was now claimed under the banner of another. No one could truly possess the wild forest even if it was drenched in their scent. Birds cared not for the border disputes of the land creatures and nor could the smaller creatures be driven from their burrows or nests. A lions ownership was merely a sentiment shared by other lions and one that she had never been confronted with. Her tribe had been the singular group in the home of her native rainforests with rivals few and far between. Gracefully she slid down the trunk of the redwood, using her claws as anchors and settled on all four paws several feet away from the gathered lions. Her pink eyes shifted to the spotless one then to the grey woman and finally settled on the mottled boy. They were larger than anticipated up close.
Morrigan's anger cools almost immediately; she has never been one to foster a hot temper. She had spoken purely from a place of fleeting ire, and her expression twists momentarily before she schools her features into something not easily readable. One last indignant tremor of her whiskers, and she is collected once again, calm as a stone made smooth by the river.
The golden-eyed lion that had made his approach while she took the moment to breathe fires off a question, and she offers him a tight smile, then chooses to address both lions. "You must excuse me. I was napping when you made your claim." Not quite an untruth - she had been searching for a spot to settle in. Her lavender eyes drift back to Silvain, realizing belatedly that his use of an endearment would normally be something that could be considered offensive. She decides it's beneath her to respond - for now.
Sorin's confused stare and the words that follow make her huff quietly with restrained amusement. Did he really think any normal lion would respect the claim - attempted or otherwise - of a lioness? Regardless of the fact that she had seen and met female lions two, three, even four times the size of many males, she'd never known a lioness to retain a pride on her own merit and it was all because the majority of lions thought themselves the better leaders. It was asinine and backwards, in her opinion, but that did nothing to change the truth.
Morrigan expects Sorin to make the offer, and her response is immediate. "I will consider it," she responds curtly, though not unkindly. The rustle of claws on bark distracts her momentarily, and she turns her unblinking gaze on Mireya. Though instinct and experience told Morrigan that they were of age, there is something youthful and spritely about the other lioness. Mor isn't sure she approves quite yet.
But did it matter? Her tail twitches at her ankles, keeping time to the ticking of her thoughts. Finally, she sighs and widens her half-lidded eyes to treat Sorin to the full depth of her crystalline eyes. "I require time to think this over." A pause, her ears flattening briefly. "I am Morrigan." She sweeps her gaze over the gathering with expectation in her expression, clearly inviting them to respond in kind. Introductions were in order if this lion were to claim the woods as his own.
It seemed Silvain's search for some gossip would have to hold out a little longer, as the tension he'd sensed upon first arriving seemed to be quickly disappating. Twitching his whiskers to hide his disappointment, he instead focused on the mottled copper lion. What sort of ruler would this one be? In his year of travel, Silvain had seen many a leader and knew they could differ greatly. Even if this young man seemed to be even-tempered and well-mannered, it was anyone's guess how he would choose to lead.
The cream man was distracted by the unveiling of a third, but less-unfamiliar face. Ah, the girl from the trees. Silvain offered her a glance, his eyes showing recognition but he didn't comment. Not yet, at least. Instead, he looked back to Sorin, evidently musing over his suggestions. Peace, huh? he hummed, How do you plan to enforce it if someone with some different ideas of that comes along? Because in his own experience, brutality was efficient. Peace meant pleasing everyone, and sometimes that just wasn't possible.
I'm Silvain. he added, I'm thinking of doing some exploring before I settle in. He gave a swish of his tail, See what these lands have to offer. Greedy as always, he wanted to see if that could drive a better suggestion out of this aspiring emperor.
