The harshness of summer was in full swing, baking the exposed earth and sending creatures of all kinds scurrying to shaded retreats. Patchouli would follow suit, having spent the last few days alone in the company of the oldest trees. It was cooler here, maybe soft beds of moss lining the tree trunks and exposed roots.

An earlier bath in a nearby river had cooked her down, the sun at the height of its climb. With little else to do with her time, she made a point to groom out her fur and lightly scent it with a rubbing of fur in a small patch of mint leaves. To what point or purpose was there in making herself look nicer? She supposed it she was simply a creature of habit, having been raised to always make herself look presentable.

image by moogle/code by saph

He was loathe to leave the mire, what with the summer heat well upon them and new babes at home, but he felt the pressing need to stretch his legs. Alaric had been busy with pride business, but now he wanted to wander and track some kind of prey to bring home to his family. Defenseless blobs that they were the food would not be for his children, but for their mother, intent on keeping her strong and well fed. A starving mother could hardly grow strong children, after all.

It was with this in mind that he came to the forest, distracted from his mission by a scent that was both familiar and… not. It was a peculiar smell, but he was reminded of a pastel female that had once upon a time crossed his path. He directed mud-stained paws her way, stopping just short of the tiny figure and giving a chuff of greeting. Alaric remembered her, but would she remember him?

THE THUNDER OF THE DRUMS

table by sentinel / art

A lot had occurred in the span of time between her first encounter with this lion, up until this point. A lot for him leastwise, though for Patchouli things had moved at a considerably slower pace. Such was the tendency for those who lived absent ambition or thought towards their future. The watercolor female thought only of where she might sleep that was secure and sheltered, how much energy she would exert in scavenging for food, pending how hungry she was feeling. She was and remained underweight, but not to the point she was starving. The truth, however tragic some might find it, was that she hadn't spoken to anyone since Alaric. She saw occasional lions in passing, but she never approached them or made her presence known to those not paying attention to their surroundings enough to notice her.

Mismatched eyes would find the male, briefly touching upon his facial features before falling in habitual fashion. She would soon be focusing on his feet, which were smeared with mud. "Good afternoon, sir @Alaric." She greeted, bowing her head low and keeping it there for now. Had she forgotten him? How could she when she had spent so much time following their meeting fretting over her indecision. She had wondered if he might be angry with her for not taking up his offer to join him in the pride he had been residing in. Not accepting something freely offered from a male was sometimes seen as an act of defiance back home. She would note he didn't even smell of that place anymore though.

image by moogle/code by saph

she had intrigued him then and she intrigued him now. the way she fell before him struck a chord in the male, who held himself higher in an instinctive response. her submission pleased him, and a rumbling sound of approval rose from his throat. "@Patchouli," he greeted, and there is a hint of his interest in his voice. tiny and young, perhaps, but she knew her place in the world and that was more than he could say for most.

venomous gaze roved over her, noting the fact that she did not seem as though she had eaten enough, wondering where she had been since he had seen her last. "i have a pride now, my own pride." he wanted to appeal to her, wanted to lure her in so that she might join him of her own accord and not with his claim upon her. if she resisted... well, he was not opposed to forcing his paw.

where innocence burns in flames

i'm frozen to the bones

image by yumpy, code by corvus

Ears would perk as he spoke to her. She had gone for so long in silence that his voice sounded very foreign to her. It was even more of something akin to a fever dream when he spoke her name. She wouldn't have expected anyone to recall her name, least of all an older and more accomplished male such as this one. As he did so, she felt his gaze, a sensation like in the time before of he truly looking her over. It was an uncomfortable feeling, more because she was a recluse who made a point not to draw attention, yet now she stood in an awkward center stage.

Thankfully, @Alaric would break the quiet tension in her with a distraction. He would announce his new title, no longer a pride lion, but a king all his own. It would only make things more uncomfortable for her, as speaking to a king was hardly something that one in her position ever had the privilege of doing. "Congratulations you highness. I would... offer gifts for a feast in your honor were I equipped to do so." She would trail off some towards the end, feeling stupid. Why bring it up at all if she couldn't deliver on something? She might be able to do so if not for the selective traits she was born to, in this case, a lack of claws. Such were essential in the success of a hunt, at least as far as felines were concerned. He didn't know of her situation but she wasn't one to simply offer to list all her frailties to those she met.

image by moogle/code by saph

every time she speaks he is rendered all the more curious -- she is unlike any other creature he had met in his time, here. or anywhere, for that matter. prim and proper, a true princess in her right, and truthfully a far cry from any that had ever snagged his interest before. but she intrigues him and it is all he can do to hold back and move carefully, so as not to spook her.

"i need no feast," he rumbled, much as the thought may be appealing, "but i would like you to come join me. my pride is new and small, and..." he trailed off, hardly able to state that he needed her skills when he had little clue as to what she was skilled in.

he shrugged, then, "i can give you the same things i promised before. food and a safe place to rest your head. this world is not kind to those without a pride." he wasn't sure, really, what would interest her, so he put out all the little pieces that he had to offer.

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He would decline a feast, perhaps lacking an appetite for food at the moment. She could have offered a more meager meal, having celebrated her third birthday only hours ago. She had a larger meal then than was typical, though he might prefer something more gourmet than some stringy sunbaked hog, some bitter berries and some questionable greens that wouldn't even be invited in a basic salad mix. She did have flowers too, for decorative purposes, which he might think too feminine for him to wear. "A king is meant to be lavished with gifts and blessings. It would be shameful of me to offer you neither." She insisted, though quietly. There was one item he might like, which presently adorned her fur. Pulling it loose, she would offer it, afraid to look at him in cause he was appald by something so meaningless as a feather, even if it was one of brilliant color, compliments of a bee eater bird.

She would not respond to his other words immediately, silently panicked on the inside about it. Nothing was free in this life, and while he would list several benefits of joining his pride, she knew the cost of it was beyond her. "I fear... I would not be worthy of such grandeur sir @Alaric. I've little in the way of talent in which to repay your hospitality. I would not wish to take what I cannot rightly earn." She would visibly shrink at this, as if ashamed or perhaps afraid. She had done her best to explain her hesitation but worried he might be displeased, be it by her complete lack of value or what he might regard as another refusal.

image by moogle/code by saph

a king is meant to be lavished with gifts

ah, and how right she was! this was a girl that knew her place and of the proper way of the world -- in alaric's twisted point of view, anyway. how he longed to bring her home, even more so now, and he idly wondered what erna would think of such a soft creature. one who doted and bent the knee before him.

as for earning her place? well... alaric could think of more than a few ways. but he would move carefully with this one, and instead tip his head as if he is truly interested in what she has to say. "tell me, patchouli, what are your talents? have you learned any skills?" did he care? hardly. he would have her join him regardless of her answer. but... he humored her... and if he could convince her of her worth then he (and his pride) would be all the better for it.

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@Alaric would not take her offered gift immediately, but she would leave it there for him if he opted to. It gave her something to focus her gaze on as they conversed, a distraction to calm the nerves. There were more pressing matters to attend before he spoke on such small tokens, such as her joining his pride. If it was what he wanted, she couldn't tell him no, she could only explain to him why it might not benefit him to do so.

What were her specific talents? She hadn't been able to finish her training, leaving just shy of her second birthday, in which she ended up here in Amaryllis. Perhaps if she explained to him how things functioned back home it would help him to understand her better, make him expect less from her. "Myself and.. others like me, we were a small group of lionesses, bred to be soft, small and pleasing to look at. We aren't capable of hunting or fighting, most of us anyway. We are more.." How would she describe what she was? The words in her own ears were sometimes hard to hear, though she had learned to accept her place long ago. "We are what those with high titles would gather and keep. Having us always nearby was a way for them to show off their importance to other lions." The most beautiful were viewed more as exotic pets than anything, the envy of lesser lions who could only ever look at them. "We are taught in dance or song. We also make sure to create and maintain a lavish den for our providing lion. Assure the softest nest is made for them, that they are well-groomed and presentable. In exchange, we are protected and fed."

Kings there led a life of more leisure, it was their bloodline that granted their rank as opposed to fighting for it. The kings had a simple life, while lionesses like herself were born to live a life akin to a songbird in a gilded cage. She had been contented with that life, be perhaps it was a more difficult one for those who were older, why else would she be hastened away and forced to flee before she was grown?

image by moogle/code by saph

His gaze followed hers, resting briefly on the feather she had offered but making no immediate move to take it. It wasn’t something Alaric had ever considered, and he isn’t entirely sure the point of such a trinket. Considering that it was from her, though, he dons the charm and gestures to it with one large paw. “Will you help me?” Lowering his head so that she might place it in a suitable spot in his mane, knowing full well it wasn’t likely to stay long but willing to accept the gift if it helped win her over.

He listened carefully as she explained her upbringing, masking the surprise he initially felt and the desire that followed it. In effect she was raised to be the perfect wife, and while Alaric prided strength as much as beauty he. could not deny the appeal of what she had to offer. “My pride is lacking in the entertainment department,” he spoke carefully, not wanting to offend her, “and my den is hardly tidy. It seems to me as though we have a lot to offer each other.”

Alaric watched her face as he spoke, curious to see if he could glean how she really felt about this possible path. “If you enjoy singing and grooming, of course?” A gentle pry in to her thoughts if she would share them.

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