The sound of waves crashing against the shore was the only thing she ever knew.

Aurelia stretched, tiny little paws reaching toward the shore. The gentle push and pull of waves lulled by winter cold was a sort of lullaby for the slumbering cub. There was little explanation as to how she got there, and why she was alone; she knew nothing but the sound of the waves, and now the curl of her belly as hunger took hold. Long had sleepiness overcome her hunger, but now it had been too long, and now it threatened to break through her peaceful slumbering and awaken her with loud and famished wails. But even if Aurelia were to wake and to cry, she would be drowned out by the sound of the sea; endless, unrelenting.

Her little nose twitched, her paws reaching up to rub at her eyes; her legs, dusted with sand, quickly pressed debris into her cheeks, tickling between the half-curled and damp fur. Her mouth parted in a loud yawn, but her eyes did not dare open. The haze of early morning left the Cay dimly-lit, cloud-cover keeping the sun's brightness held back. Her little tail curled out behind her, a gentle stirring finally threatening to wake the cub up. Her stomach growled, her eyes fluttered, her lips smacked their dryness away.

How serene it was here; peaceful, uninterrupted. Aurelia had perhaps found herself in a situation luckier than most abandoned cubs, for there were no predators lurking amongst the reeds, nor angry ocean threatening to swallow her and whisk her away.

@Cirilla

Art by Sentinel, table by cala

OOC: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY uwu

Cirilla had grown quite accustomed to the lonesome life that the Cay offered. The bitter wind chills, combined with the harsh salt in the air, meant that not many seemed to stray this far out unless they needed something. Cirilla had grown up with her lungs stinging from the unkind salty chill, so life without it seemed dull and mundane. The sound of the sea seemed to drown out the rest of the noise, and the Sigrún daughter seemed to find peace in the to and fro of the water that lapped at the beach.

The haze of the early morning saw Cirilla snoozing on the damp sand. The coldness forced an ache to manifest deep within her bones, pulling the lioness away from a state of slumber and into the reality that was her day-to-day life. Rosé eyes study the Cay briefly as she rises to her paws and stretches out the slumber that seemed to cling to her like a leech did to skin, before she departed from her den and commenced her daily hunt for food.

But food was not what the brown lioness found. She had seen a small shadow in the distance and presumed it was a snoozing bird, until she got a little closer. The Sigrún had never come across an abandoned child before, and the woman was not entirely sure on what to do. She pauses for a brief moment, observing the child, before closing the gap between them and loomed over the girl. You. She grunts, resisting the urge to push the girl, instead tapping her on the shoulder. Was she dead? Cirilla hoped she was not dead.

Aurelia was almost fully awake by the time @Cirilla reached her. She was blinking sleepiness from her eyes, tiny jaws parted wide in as large a yawn such a small cub could muster. The lioness' voice caused her to stiffen, but the fleeing sleepiness had long lowered the cub's defenses, and without ever having been instilled with a sense of danger, she looked lazily toward the doe-brown lioness, a sheepish expression on her pale face. You, she said. As her paw came down to poke her shoulder, Aurelia is suddenly startled awake, blinking away the remnants of fatigue and quickly jumping to her tiny paws. Eep! she cries, kitten fur standing to attention, needle claws unsheathed and quickly gripping into the sand. It were instinct alone that drove Aurelia's sudden fright; she was shock-still, an easy meal for any other keening predator.

When recognition came that this was another lion who approached, Aurelia calmed a little. She'd had only hazy memories of all that came before; voices, smells familiar to Cirilla yet oh-so-different. What had it been before, she wondered, that had been so soft and inviting about the smells she'd experienced before? The lioness smelled only of the sea, of heavy salt and sand. It was not disconcerting, but it wasn't nearly as welcoming as that of warmth and milk; Aurelia's belly curled angrily, a cruel reminder that she'd been left alone for far too long without a proper meal. Her legs began to tremble, instinctual puffiness waning in favor of that familiar sleepiness. It were the only comfort when she were so hungry. Soon, the lioness in front of he became less and less of a priority.

Art by Sentinel, table by cala

It does not take the girl long to stir from her slumber, and rosé eyes watch the small child carefully. The girl had never been exposed to a young child like this one before, so she was not... entirely sure what to do. The cry causes her to jolt backward slightly, unsure about the damage that she had caused. Should she have tapped her so hard?

The Sigrún daughter found it mildly amusing that @Aurelia's natural reaction is to stand to attention and make herself look as big as she physically could, tiny kitten claws digging themselves into the sand until she noticed it was a lioness standing in front of her and not something more... threatening. Her legs began to tremble, and it was at this moment that Cirilla realized that the child needed her. It was a strange feeling that seemed to brew in the pits of her stomach, and her head seems to overtake the cries of her heart. Moving to pick the girl up by the scruff of her neck, Cirilla sought to move the child away from the blistering cold and into the confines of her den, where warm pelts surrounded the cave and meat sat in wait.

Slipping into her den and allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust, Cirilla placed the girl down gently on the floor where a thick pelt lay, and without a word, went and grabbed a small hare carcass she had caught only hours ago. Laying it in front of the child, she pushed her paws forward and came to lay near here, before simply saying, Eat.

Aurelia seldom has time to react when @Cirilla moves forward; she does not move, does not stray from her starstruck position even as the far larger lioness scoops her nape between her teeth. There is a flood of instinct, a wash of calmness that soothes her fur and eases her to a blissful limpness as she is carried away by the lioness deeper into the Cay. She is silent, asking not where they were going or perhaps, more importantly, if she'd any intentions of hurting her (the thought does not dare cross Aurelia's mind, for she is far too young to consider it, and Cirilla far too gentle in her movements). Eventually, however, they duck into a den deep away from the threat of the encroaching shoreline, and a burst of warm comes with it once they slip through the mouth of the cave.

Eventually, she is placed down among the throng of warm pelts and feathers. She almost feels tempted to protest, enjoying the warm of Cirilla's breath and the gentle rocking of her steady gait, but the intoxicating smell of food soon disappears that fleeting feeling and swift is Aurelia to take notice of the meal that the lioness present to her. All mine? she wanted to ask aloud, but the nerves of this sudden encounter still settled her into a brutal silence. It is only when the meal is pushed toward her and the instruction to eat ordered curtly does Aurelia finally break her stillness; she takes one step forward, then another, and after a moment of cautious and thorough sniffing, she begins to eat as much as her young belly could muster. Unapologetically, and perhaps not quite as lady-like as she should've; but it is only when she has started to quell her hunger does she realize just how long she must have gone without food.

Just how long she was completely alone.

T—thanks, she sniffs, finally, when she's had a moment to breathe between bites.

Art by Sentinel, table by cala

Cirilla fell silent as she watched the tiny cub eat the meal that she had laid out so plainly in front of her. Cirilla wondered what exactly had caused the child to become so alone at such a young age, but the harsh reality of the matter seemed to resonate with the brown lioness. She was not much older, perhaps six months or so, when the same had happened to her. Cirilla had quickly found herself without a mother, a father, or her brothers to keep herself company - they had left, without prior warning or explanation. How was she to know, or understand why they had abandoned her? The question in the back of her mind still haunts her, but the woman had grown bitter on the matter, and pushed it out of her mind.

The small voice of @Aurelia pulls her presence back from a state of daydream as she finds herself pushing her paws forward into the sand ridden ground so that her soft underbelly lay against the cold and damp earth beneath, her larger figure acting as a barrier against the cold that seemed to creep in from outside. You're welcome. The woman says eventually, looking at the curdled blood and half-eaten carcass that remained. You were hungry. Cirilla states plainly with a twitch of her only full ear.

What is your name? She asks as her tail twitches innocently, an instinct of protection and care subconsciously growing inside of her. I'm Cirilla. Cirilla Sigrún.

Had Aurelia known that the same thing that happened to her had happened to @Cirilla, she might have dropped her guard, might have felt the wave of girlish sympathy the best a cub could muster. But as the woman remained silent, the cub was content to fill her belly, to find rest in the safe haven she had been brought to, to delight in the comfort of its warmth and want for nothing, as all babes should. As Cirilla leans down, she blocks the gusts of cold wind blowing from outside, but her larger form casts a shadow over the pale girl, enveloping her in a comforting darkness. When the woman comments about her hunger, Aurelia feels an unfamiliar warmth sprawl onto her cheeks, suddenly keenly aware of the blood tinging her pale muzzle, of the massacred piece of prey right before her, torn apart by needle-thin teeth.

Aurelia, she replies, happy to move away from the topic of her ravenous appetite. Her name was the only thing she remembered, the last surrender through the haze of bleary and forgotten memories. It was hard for her to pronounce at this age, though, and Aurelia was keen on making it easier on herself. She had no sentimental ties to what she had forgotten. Reli. Cirilla, by comparison, was far more proud and grand. She not only had her name, but a family she belonged to, and one she was clearly proud of. Aurelia leans up into a sit, her paws neatly tucked before her as she stared toward the brownish woman in awe.

Art by Sentinel, table by cala

As Cirilla settles on the ground, acting as a wind break for the young child, she silently watches her eat. She was, despite her circumstances, strong, and had a good will about her. She would make a good lioness - a kind one - Cirilla imagined, and she couldn't help but feel a wave of protection come over her at the thought that seemed to tip toe into her mind.

This child needed a mother. A family.

Reli, Cirilla echoes, offering the girl a smile as she polishes off the food and sits eagerly in front of her. Would you like a family to call your own, Reli? Someone to look after you? She asks, curious to know if the answer @Aurelia would give was the one that Cirilla was expecting (and wanted).

Aurelia had no ties to anything, or anyone, that came before. She remembers nothing but waking up here, and as a result, remembers nobody but @Cirilla. Despite this, however, even Reli knew something was missing; detached, fragmented. There were distant memories like delightful dreams that stirred in the background, faces blurred and voices muffled as if she'd been held underwater. She knew that Cirilla's proposition meant something different than growing as young cubs often did, with parents that she had truly come from, but yet, there was no loyalty tying Aurelia to them.

Cirilla were the one who were here. The one who was feeding her, the one who was sheltering her.

Yes, she said almost immediately, her pale gaze lifting to meet the deep purple of Cirilla's. What all this acceptance entailed meant little to her in that moment; right now, her belly was fully, her eyes were heavy, and the gentle lulling of the waves just beyond were a sweet sort of lullaby. Sheepishly, she began to crawl toward Cirilla, hoping to curl around the older woman's front paws, nuzzle her pale little nose between her toes. Yes, please...

Art by Sentinel, table by cala

The wind bites against Cirilla's back as it remains exposed to the wind. It was bitter, the chill, but she did not mind - the lioness had grown up battling the harsh winter breeze that seemed to be spat into Amaryllis from the Cay. She had, for the most part, become numb to it. All that mattered was that @Aurelia was safe, and warm.

The child agrees almost immediately, and Cirilla offers her a warm smile. You'll be safe with me... I will protect you with my life. She whispers against the whistling wind behind her. But Cirilla was content, and she watched the girl crawl closer to her larger form. Cirilla finds herself offering the girl a paw, wrapping it around her smaller body and pulling the child into her chest so that she were warm and well protected from the bitter chill of the wind.

With a sigh of relief, Cirilla allowed herself to relax and, with her new daughter, allowed a light slumber to overcome her body. They were family now - she was a mother.

Exit via sleep? Unless you want to carry on!

^{ART BY ALE-TIE, CODE BY CALA}