The Kitwana'antara can technically trace their origins back to hundreds of years previous. . . Or at least, they could had not much of their history been lost. The original pride was made of old blood, with old-standing traditions, rituals and religion. They fell under a different name ((one I haven't come up with yet. . <<; )) and were once as famous and well known as the Motoujamii or Pridelands of today. But as happens with success, many of the lions within the original pride grew proud and full of themselves. They turned away many outsiders, scorned blood not born upon the soil of THEIR earth, and looked upon all other life of Africa unworthy of their time.
So proud were the members of this pride that royalty and commoner alike began to forget their rogue roots and the ideals of their founding. Though they were skilled and their territory large and prosperous, their vanity and conceit of being luckier and eventually 'better' than those around them would fast become their down fall. So proud were the lions that they turned away even those in dire and desperate need of assistance or aid, be it neighboring prides or starving and sick rogues and cubs of unknown origins.
As the years and royal blood progressed, they closed their borders completely and shut all out. Inbreeding became a bit of the norm, especially with the royal family. . . They couldn't possibly believe that any genes were worthy outside their own. The general idea believed was with such a large and prosperous pride and so many members blood to mix, it couldn't possibly be a problem. The gods had found favor upon the pride; it was only proper that such blood stay strong and stay pure and undiluted by outsiders. Blind with arrogance, though it didn't happen over night, after decades of inbreeding, many of the pride became related and could trace their histories together.
Very rarely a new member or cub was accepted in, but it wasn't enough to counter the amount of inbreeding. The general belief was that by sharing a gene pool, they would grow stronger, share physical traits, and in turn be stronger as the entire pride could boast unity by blood. Strange belief, especially to outsiders who long since shunned the arrogant pride, but royalty would have it no other way.
For many year the great pride continued to prosper, and as far as anyone could guess, the gods would continue to smile down upon them. . . .
Unfortunately, the pride was merely setting the stage for failure.
. . . the First Fall. . . .
It was bound to happen.
Legend whispers that the pride began to slip in to delusional beliefs, comparing themselves to gods. This, of course, might be part of the reason the gods turned their backs to the proud clan. Others say that it was merely a matter of time, a spot of incredibly hard luck. Regardless, the general consensus is that the great pride was tested. . . . And did they every fail.
It happened during the time of the great leader, Saami. Males were typically the respected leaders, with their female counter parts doing little work and enjoying an easy lifestyle. A rogue approached the borders, starving and, without aid, would find himself close to death. The pride, unsurprisingly, turned him away, scorning his lowly state.
The rogue refused to leave. Begging, pleading for aid, he sat outside the borders. He was too weak to travel further, too sick to hunt or find aid elsewhere. . . . Was there no compassion? Would no one have mercy upon him?
On and on the strange rogue pleaded. Word reached Saami of this nuisance, and with his mate beside, they went to investigate the 'creature'. The king looked upon the old rogue and sneered. . . He was far too great to deal with or concern himself with the death of a lesser. Let him die, but may he do so mindfully and find a place to soil the earth away from pride territory.
The rogue continued to cry and beg and suffer, becoming a source of entertainment in his final days. Saami's mate, Eshe, felt a source of pity for the creature. . . . Rumor says she tried to beseech her mate, to find pity in his heart upon the creature, to feed him enough to send him away as his cries of pain and wheezing were disturbing. . . . Ah, but Eshe was reprimanded, reminded of her place beneath Saami's wisdom. The great king knew what was best, and it was with great pleasure he turned his back upon the rogue.
Needless to say, it wasn't long before the rogue died.
His corpse lay at the edges of the pride, vultures picked upon it dutifully, and for the most part life resumed with little change. But not a month after the rogues demise, an illness began to spread amongst the pride. Various members began coughing, growing weak and spitting up blood.
As happens, sickness periodically does spread through the pride, and Saami thought this as nothing but a minor setback. The pride would find health soon. . . . but the rate at which the disease spread was shocking. The lions mixed blood worked as a disadvantage, as the entire line was incredibly susceptible to the disease.
The great pride looked to the gods, remembering their place and pleading for assistance. If any god heard, they turned away. . . . The pride turn turned to Saami, demanding answers and pleading for him to find a cure. He sent out calls for help to the neighboring prides, begging for healers and shamans alike to come to their aid and promising great reward. . . .
But their years of scorning others caused many to also turn the other cheek and look away.
The foolish king and his members might learn a lesson from their arrogance. The higher up one sat, the harder the fall. . . .
The disease spread rapidly, desecrating the pride and slaughtering the majority of its members. Chaos ensued, some pride members fleeing out of hope of finding help elsewhere, while others turned and accused Saami. Oh, it was true the entire pride was at fault, but as the wise ruler, it was Saami who turned out the sick and scorned the dead.
This was that damned rogue, cursing the pride and infecting them all! If Saami had but aided him they wouldn't suffer so. . . . Turned out and rejected from his pride, it is unclear whether Saami died from illness or humiliation and bruised ego. Regardless, he suffered.
They all suffered.
By the end of it, the great pride was cut down to no more than three; Eshe, a young adolescent female, Urbi and one grizzled and older male lion, Babafemi. Miraculously, these were the only three to survive, two of them carriers of the disease, and Eshe's suffering minimal. Fleeing the lands, hoping to escape the worst of the plague, it was noted by neighbors that the great pride was officially exterminated.
. . . . The Rise of the Kitwana'antara. . . .
With the death of the _______ (insert original pride name here!), Eshe and her two faithful companions searched for safety and a new beginning. Having been scorned by neighboring prides, for a good while the three roamed as rogues, seeking out new lands to call their own. Eshe was still sick, and the journey rough. . .
But the gods had yet to bless the three with any sort of good favor. Eshe took on Babafemi as a mate, but the old male wasn't much of a diplomat or a leader. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was strong and supportive.
Urbi, growing in to a pretty thing, also found a mate and a fourth member joined their pride. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before her chosen mate began to show signs of disease. Urbi blamed Eshe, but there was little that could be done, little realizing that she herself infected her mate.
Tension grew in the small band of rogues and, to make matters worse, both Urbi and Eshe wound up pregnant.
It should have been a joyous occassion, but the blessing was bitter sweet. Plague seemed to follow them no matter how far they ran as both litters showing sign of infection shortly after their birth. Urbi continued to accuse Eshe that she was the source of their strife, of their disease and eventually the old queen was out cast.
The old queen died alone amongst the corpses and bones of her litter.
Urbi became the new queen. Her first litter died, and to preserve the lineage of the few 'healthy' members she took it upon herself to leave her sick mate behind as well. It was a cold choice to make, but she refused to let infection haunt her or any future family she chose to have.
It wasn't long after that Babafemi and Urbi finally found acceptance within a welcoming pride and community. Unfortunately for Urbi, it was only after their arrival that a familiar disease began to spread amongst the new lions. Appalled and confused, certain that all disease had been shed with the loss of her mate and Eshe, Urbi couldn't understand why the plague haunted them.
The pair fled.
On to another pride, and once again, sickness traveled with them no matter where they went. It didn't take long for word to spread of outsiders infecting prides. . . . Borders closed and both Urbi and Babafemi suffered. Guilt washed over the lioness, whom slowly began to realize that even though they showed no signs of disease, they were still infected. She had given up her loving mate, had cast out her queen, Eshe, and let her die alone. . . . .
And the small duo were still none the wiser. Accepting their plight, the lioness realized that they were cursed with disease. They had no one but each other to depend upon. . .
For years the pair wandered. Both Urbi and even the old Babafemi found rogue partners, but sickness followed in their wake. Non-lion species became a welcome sight, as the disease didn't seem to affect them. Allies were formed and friendships made. . . The vanity and pride of their roots were fast forgotten. Though it was hard dealing with a plague that the lions just couldn't shake, the small rogue band began to grow. They welcomed anyone who might stay, be they health or ill. Lion cubs were swiftly adopted, despite having to infect them, but it was the only way their numbers stood a chance of growing. In fact, hybrid cubs and cubs NOT of Urbi and Babafemi's lineage seemed to stand a greater chance of survival.
It took years to find a spot of land to call their own. Urbi was an elderly lioness, though some of her offspring did reach adulthood and had families all their own. Sick rogues and many non-lions also followed the small troupe, given protection by the lions for aid and assistance to their plight. Though neighboring lion prides quickly grew to mistrust the sick ones, they eventually settled and formed a new pride.
Taking up the name of the Kitwana'antara, Urbi's eldest and most respected daughter was granted title of queen.
Urbi died not quite year later, but her legacy would live on.
