Post by Scar on Jun 11, 2019 2:59:12 GMT
January 11, Open to Zira
The setting sun was casting long shadows across the ground, casting the jungle into darkness as the stars began to appear in the sky overhead. A brisk breeze danced between the trees, setting the leaves to whispering. On the edge of the jungle, where the dense growth thinned as it slowly gave way to the vast, barren expanse of the Outlands. Out from beneath the thick jungle canopy, the air wasn't so close, nor so damp. The warmth of the day faded more rapidly, and more completely.
In the depths of one of these deep shadows, Scar sat, green eyes glinting as he gazed out towards the Outlands, though his thoughts were focused on the Pridelands beyond. He drummed his claws on the ground with a slow, steady rhythm, deep in thought. The army Maleficent had gathered was rather impressive, all things considered, even if it was smaller than anticipated. And Maleficent herself was certainly a force to be reckoned with, even if she did seem to, at times, view this whole war as if it were a game. But that wasn't the primary issue he was considering, it it even was one.
What really irked him was not knowing the disposition of his brother's forces. He knew only that Mufasa had gathered a host of allies. What he didn't know was how many, or how capable they were. Before, he'd had the advantage of being able to come and go largely as he'd pleased in the Pridelands. But now, he was effectively blind and deaf in that regard. He'd have to remedy that as soon as possible, somehow.
He stretched, and lowered himself onto his belly, crossing his forelegs across himself as he enjoyed the cool of he evening outside the thick, dense, atmosphere of the deep jungle. As far as temporary homes went, it was adequate. Plenty of space, plenty of prey despite the difficulty in learning to hunt here, and plenty of places to hide while setting up an ambush. But, all in all, he didn't much care for it. He didn't like the damp air, or the close feeling from being among so much dense plant-life. And he really didn't like what the damp did to his mane on a bad day.