Post by Vitani on Apr 2, 2020 16:37:17 GMT
(January 15th, late afternoon. Open to Zira for mother-daughter huntress training and conversation about the events of The Art of Welcoming! Eventually will be open to @nuka and Kovu Plague )
”Rrrr-rrugh!” Tawny paws splayed wide and then clapped around a low-hanging branch with wood so dark it reminded violet eyes of the Black Keep.
Vitani’s gaze had been fierce with concentration during her leap. She’d been trying to focus on form, and pushing all of her strength through her back legs to fly far enough. It worked; the cub had gone from the top of a mossy boulder to dangling from the tree, little claws sunk into the bark. Now her face loosened from the snarl and she twisted to look under one arm at the ground below.
The small lioness checked for anything in her way, then dropped to the jungle floor. Her landing rustled the leaf mold, and she shot another satisfied glance up at the raked markings she’d left her wooden enemy with. But would Mother like it?
Vitani puffed her narrow chest and stood looking straight ahead, facing Zira but keeping her posture and face set in one direction. Like a soldier. Probably better than most of the actual soldiers in the Cursed Thorns.
That was the point. Vitani might not be the Chosen One, or the oldest, but she could be this. The greatest huntress in the Pride, someday, when she struck out on her first hunt. As long as she trained on days like today, harder than anyone in the Outlands, and certainly better than anyone in the Pridelands. Or maybe anywhere else.
A little lack of focus flipped the tufted tail from it’s attention. Vitani thought a moment. She’d just been to the Pridelands yesterday and met Rani, who had been looking for Mufasa’s pride but wasn’t part of it. She’d carried her little brown self like a Queen. And her loyalties weren’t decided. Vitani May have been a child, but she was Zira and Scar’s child, and one raised in wartime. She knew an opportunity when she saw it.
But how to bring it up to mother and get the credit she deserved?
Tufted girl snapped back into attention, realizing her shoulders had been relaxing, and tried to stand even taller. Though she knew enough not to say it, her whole body language did everything but screech like Nuka, how was that, Mother?
”Rrrr-rrugh!” Tawny paws splayed wide and then clapped around a low-hanging branch with wood so dark it reminded violet eyes of the Black Keep.
Vitani’s gaze had been fierce with concentration during her leap. She’d been trying to focus on form, and pushing all of her strength through her back legs to fly far enough. It worked; the cub had gone from the top of a mossy boulder to dangling from the tree, little claws sunk into the bark. Now her face loosened from the snarl and she twisted to look under one arm at the ground below.
The small lioness checked for anything in her way, then dropped to the jungle floor. Her landing rustled the leaf mold, and she shot another satisfied glance up at the raked markings she’d left her wooden enemy with. But would Mother like it?
Vitani puffed her narrow chest and stood looking straight ahead, facing Zira but keeping her posture and face set in one direction. Like a soldier. Probably better than most of the actual soldiers in the Cursed Thorns.
That was the point. Vitani might not be the Chosen One, or the oldest, but she could be this. The greatest huntress in the Pride, someday, when she struck out on her first hunt. As long as she trained on days like today, harder than anyone in the Outlands, and certainly better than anyone in the Pridelands. Or maybe anywhere else.
A little lack of focus flipped the tufted tail from it’s attention. Vitani thought a moment. She’d just been to the Pridelands yesterday and met Rani, who had been looking for Mufasa’s pride but wasn’t part of it. She’d carried her little brown self like a Queen. And her loyalties weren’t decided. Vitani May have been a child, but she was Zira and Scar’s child, and one raised in wartime. She knew an opportunity when she saw it.
But how to bring it up to mother and get the credit she deserved?
Tufted girl snapped back into attention, realizing her shoulders had been relaxing, and tried to stand even taller. Though she knew enough not to say it, her whole body language did everything but screech like Nuka, how was that, Mother?
