The small lad had heard of this place, of relatives that had ventured in this direction to make a home for themselves. The information was given freely from a cousin returned from the lands. He devoured it greedily, committed to memory for later use. A spit of land surrounded on all sides by a vast stretch of ocean, save for a narrow stretch of land that connected it with the wider world.

His father would caution patience, yet he refused to wait until adulthood to break from his family and find his own path. Despite his age and smaller stature, he was well equipped to fend for himself. While not the strongest, he was a very agile creature while hunting, also one clever in strategy. Even should all these things fail him, he could always play the waiting game with his food, following a single inflicted bite. Often the sickness that his body harbored, proved ceaseless and violent, bringing even large prey down after a time. Other times it only left them with a fleeting discomfort, much to his displeasure.

The night sky would be his backdrop as he slithered silently passed through the claiming grounds. He did not wish to be immediately thrust into a pride while still unfamiliar with the political dramas between them and neighbors. Slitted gaze would take in the nightscape with great enthusiasm, legs tired from days of travel given little notice in the moment of observation. Was this home? He could see himself living here, nay, thriving here. If ever there was a place to make a name for yourself and your kin, it was here.

image by moogle/code by saph

Hambone didn't care about the aura of the night, only the fate of those who dwelled within it. He'd detected the trail of a rogue lion that was too young for puberty: easy pickings, or an easy con. He'd see whether teeth or tongue were needed. Somehow he felt like teeth. Something about the scent made him uneasy. Maybe it was an errant child of his who needed squished under heel. He flexed and skulked, his mauve hue good camouflage against navy night.

His twin trophy eyes caught sight of the yearling eventually. Gold patch on plum, like a toxic cloud backlit against sunset. Yes, this could be one of his blood, though his mane was growing in quite patchily. A shame to his genetics. And so small... Hambone was small, but he made sure to bristle with muscle. "H-h-hail," he chuffed, a seamless throat sound under the segmented spit of his tongue. His eyes were more expressive than his half-paralyzed face, and they scrutinized @Recluse with suspicion. His lower jaw unhinged and he whistled another rush of scent across the scarred roof of his mouth.

While there was much potential in these new lands, Recluse had left behind some things he would sorely miss. He was royalty back home and was respected by those that served under his family. Respect and manners in these parts would be lackluster in comparison, enter the first example.

The lion that approached him had not said much nor done anything of note, yet Recluse already got a feeling about him. He might prove an unpleasant fellow, though on a physical level he was not so much of a threat. He wasn't much bigger than the plum teen, though more experienced in years which was something it would be foolish to underestimate.

Recluse would not respond to @Hambone immediately, though eyes would settle on him, sharp and calculating. He supposed he would keep it light, make it seem as if he didn't suspect anything off about this encounter. Greetings, to whom do I owe this pleasure? He asked, a small dip of the head given. This lion might not have class or manners, but Recluse had them both in vast supply.

image by moogle/code by saph

He did not receive an immediate response. Lions who had full use of their tongue were often caught short in the face of him. He assumed this yearling was, as usual, taken aback and studying him to know why Hambone spoke the way he did. Too polite to outright question why, however, and Hambone grinned back to expose a wreath of fangs. Taunting with the knowledge that he assumed @Recluse actually wanted to know. His tattered ears slackened back as well, as though he was yawning instead of smiling... overall, a patronizing suggestion of an expression.

Patron was appropriate, if this was his son.

"Ya... y-ou... know... you k-know f-f-f-father...?" half his lips scowled and he shook drool off his fangs. "...b-b-boy?" Hambone had seen a resemblance. He always knew and remembered the children he had chosen, the cubs who were special, but his bastards outnumbered them. Sometimes he came across them. Sometimes he introduced himself. Sometimes they forced his acquaintance. Pushy little brats, children were, ungrateful for the gift of life. Whoever this one's mother was, if he had bothered to get her name at all, she wasn't raising him right.

@Recluse

Recluse's expression was stoic, the faintest hint of curvature at the corners in a resting frown. This lion was more of an oddity then Recluse first realized, but he wasn't sure what the problem was. Perhaps he had damaged nerves in his face? Perhaps he was just simple in the head and Recluse was giving him too much credit to suggest he was playing some sort of mind game with him?

He might have felt insulted by the suggestion that he might be the offspring of this male, but if he did, he did not show it in his face. "If you are suggesting I might be one of your offshoots, know that I am fully aware who my father is. You certainly are not him." He said, eyes sweeping across him, unimpressed. His father was a king, eloquent, elegant and vicious. This lion gave off neither of the first two qualities.

@Hambone

image by moogle/code by saph

If this was his child, he certainly took after his mother. Hambone was neither snooty or aloof; the parts of his face that worked showed every expression fully, and his uncontrollable drooling accented his negative emotions more often than not. He either growled or rumbled merely to clear his throat. Probably both. "Noo - huh - shaaame... t-to be... m-m-mine." It was easy for him to interpret the clever mix of the yearling's words as an indirect insult at his own uncouth being. He hork-laughed again. Whether he was actually insulted, or was just making a ploy to see if he could ruffle the yearling... well, either way he was in the mood to fight or screw around. Was why he'd traced this antagonistic scent in the first place. "Y-yer... dad. dad-d-dy. 'E... sh-shmall?" He gestured at his own majestic bulk. Small in size but he had some freaking gains. Being partly dehydrated from the journey helped. Muscle muscle man. "C-can... h-h-h-h-elp." Out of the generosity of his heart, obviously not. But an extra small yearling was an obvious sales target and especially if he could get another bank roller on it.

@Recluse

Recluse would look on in vague amusement as the lion spoke, hardly phased by the returned insult. He enjoyed a game of mockery once in a while, provided his combatant had a talent for it. A shame? Truly it would be but not for the reasons @Hambone meant. Recluse was of a much more refined gene pool, while this lion seemed a mix of less appealing qualities. "He is perhaps taller than you are, if you hold height in high regard perhaps you are offended." He offered with a shrug. Personally, he had little interest in how big you were in body, it was the size of your ambition that determined your value. "In what manner could you help me? Perhaps you want to teach me how to smile as you do." He suggested, looking the lion over carefully. If he intended to attack him suddenly, he would see the shift in his muscles, would see them stiffen up in advance and be ready to move himself. If he actually intended to try and teach Recluse something, he would be interested to see what he had to teach.

image by moogle/code by saph

Dismissal, in that courtly tone, read the same as an insult to Hambone. He detested all those high and patronizing. In dark corners their pretty words would come off. This he knew. His ears pitched back along with the draw of his lips, showing a greater amount of smaller yet still sharp fangs receding along his gumline. A growl lay bidden in his throat but he was silent. He swallowed it almost. Cautious. The antagonizing lure of the male's scent had intrigued him, but also kept him from charging in. It was rather like the smell equivalent of a porcupine or pangolin.

"Ya... yer, yer k-kind... sh-shmile... good." His sentence was laced with menace, low rumbling that did not suffer the same hitched effect of his words. It would be nice to lay a smack on pretty boy's smirk. Once he figured him out a bit more. Still leery, but antagonistic, Hambone lurched suddenly to his right, not aiming to close distance but wanting to see how the yearling reacted to an attempt to circle around him.

@Recluse

This lion clearly had an itch he was wanting to scratch, a persistent need to claw and bite and throw his weight around, however little of it he had to throw. Recluse would indulge him if he was truly intent on violence, he could use the practice if he ever truly intended to be a true king in the near future. He would rather forgo such activity today though, having come a long distance in one day.

@Hambone was showing aggression in his stance, in his sudden movement. Recluse would stiffen but he would not flinch, slitted pupils piercing into the stranger. "Are you so eager to fight someone? I wont run from a challenge but you pursue one at your own risk. I imagine you will regret it come the morning." He spoke, tone absent much emotion, save dark humor. He might be sound of body, but the mind was considerably frailer. He didn't seem well as it was. "I would be curious to see how you might react to it." He didn't specify what 'it' was but he had an inkling that this lion knew there was something off about the smaller plum male. Was that the only reason he hadn't attacked him already? Hopefully the lion would just think better of it and go home.

image by moogle/code by saph