Post by Kovu on Mar 30, 2020 18:13:59 GMT
(February 10th, mid-morning, on the Pridelands side of the river dividing the Outlands and Pridelands territories. Open to Kiara Plague )
Thump.
Dust-colored toes dropped to the ground beside a long, creaky old tree carcass. The little lion cub with his back to the river it bridged did not stand from his crouch.
Kovu’s dark brown body stayed in a carefully stealthy position. His green eyes hadn’t moved since he came within sight of the thing they locked to. The thorns blocked the view of the savannah and the horizon, but the peak of Pride Rock still jutted at the clouds.
It really did look like a lion’s open mouth, roaring to the sky.
The tufted son of Zira and Scar had heard about Pride Rock. It is your birthright. Your destiny. The King of the Cursed Thorns’ voice followed his heir like a permanent marking. His mother’s words seemed to trail along his spine...probably because she was usually stroking him fondly when he heard her say the same old, You have the same darkness in your soul that makes Scar powerful. That power will beat the path of our glorious return to the throne of the Pridelands.
He wasn’t always sure what all of that meant. His round ears had heard it so often it wasn’t much different than hearing the hyenas cackle and bicker, or smelling the mold and sap of the Indian Jungle. Now, seeing Pride Rock for himself, the brunette was glad he’d snuck away from Nuka. It made everything feel more real.
Except...he couldn’t quite look at that big rock and believe that one day he’d stand up there, with his tail arched over his back and winds saluting him the way they did during Scar’s announcements. That future felt as far away as his mane.
Large ear twitched and Kovu flinched into a deeper crouch, his mouth open. He stifled a gasp and tensed every muscle to keep from shaking. What was that sound?
A dozen images of big, fire-colored lions springing from the thorns with teeth bared, ready to cut away the Outsider in their territory, made it hard. But he was Kovu. He was the Chosen One. He had to remember that—remember his training. They’d chased Simba and Mufasa out of here. That was what Mother said.
So who would be out here?
Thump.
Dust-colored toes dropped to the ground beside a long, creaky old tree carcass. The little lion cub with his back to the river it bridged did not stand from his crouch.
Kovu’s dark brown body stayed in a carefully stealthy position. His green eyes hadn’t moved since he came within sight of the thing they locked to. The thorns blocked the view of the savannah and the horizon, but the peak of Pride Rock still jutted at the clouds.
It really did look like a lion’s open mouth, roaring to the sky.
The tufted son of Zira and Scar had heard about Pride Rock. It is your birthright. Your destiny. The King of the Cursed Thorns’ voice followed his heir like a permanent marking. His mother’s words seemed to trail along his spine...probably because she was usually stroking him fondly when he heard her say the same old, You have the same darkness in your soul that makes Scar powerful. That power will beat the path of our glorious return to the throne of the Pridelands.
He wasn’t always sure what all of that meant. His round ears had heard it so often it wasn’t much different than hearing the hyenas cackle and bicker, or smelling the mold and sap of the Indian Jungle. Now, seeing Pride Rock for himself, the brunette was glad he’d snuck away from Nuka. It made everything feel more real.
Except...he couldn’t quite look at that big rock and believe that one day he’d stand up there, with his tail arched over his back and winds saluting him the way they did during Scar’s announcements. That future felt as far away as his mane.
Large ear twitched and Kovu flinched into a deeper crouch, his mouth open. He stifled a gasp and tensed every muscle to keep from shaking. What was that sound?
A dozen images of big, fire-colored lions springing from the thorns with teeth bared, ready to cut away the Outsider in their territory, made it hard. But he was Kovu. He was the Chosen One. He had to remember that—remember his training. They’d chased Simba and Mufasa out of here. That was what Mother said.
So who would be out here?