[PRP] What's wrong with her? (Toril/Ulf/Brigh)

[Painted Moose]

Ulf twisted sharply as his ear was ripped back in such a rapid motion that it brought a feminine shriek out of his mouth. He tried to bat off his opponent, but despite his gender he was no match for the God spawn. Toril's size alone meant that she took top spot compared to a tiny shrimp of a male like him. When she had him tilted up at the perfect angle she spat in his ear, and let go to watch primly as Ulf tried to shake it out.

Every day progressed much the same as this one for the pair. Toril reigned supreme here, alone with the male cub, where she couldn't be compared to her six sisters. Around Ulf she could feel strong because he purposefully made himself weak to suit her needs. She knew it, he knew it; it was because his mama had told him boys should be nice to girls. Pfft. As if she needed the help.

"Toril, you can't go that way." Ulf whined, pulling his maw into a pout as the lighter cub started walking towards the outskirts of the territory. "If we get caught we're going to be in big trouble."

"Who're you more 'fraid of? Your mama gettin' you because you got caught, or me because you didn't follow me?" She held up a paw, grinning when he instinctively backed away. "Now come on, we're going on a viking."

Ulf grumbled again before he took off after her at a sprint. They were being watched, he knew that, which meant they wouldn't get far without being caught. Worry creased his brow, and drug down his ears. Didn't she care? There were laws and rules to follow! She wasn't a grown up yet, anyway, so what made Toril boss?

 

[hibi-tea]

Brigh sat patiently waiting for her Grandma by a particularly large rock, looking nervous and suspicious of everything that passed her. She knew very few in the main portion of the pride, and had it not been for her sickness of late she probably wouldn't step much foot within the pride itself till she was much older. Not to mention she was not fond of the way her Grandma looked every time they stepped foot within the pride itself.

"I hope Gramma is here soon," Brigh murmured to herself, her tiny, raspy voice sticking in her throat as she spoke. The visions she had, which for her lifespan were numerous, always ended with her becoming ill and it had done a number on her voice already. She only hoped that it would leave and not come back soon.  

[Painted Moose]

hibi-tea

"Hey, see that?" Ulf murmured in a voice that was far too obvious to be considered a true whisper. Toril hit him in the chest. "Omph!" Rubbing at his sore spot, he gave the female a glare, but noticed the way she had quieted. Between the two of them one of the cubs should have at least recognized the other.

They did not.

The larger female was the first to make a move. She came up to the other female, taking stock of her facial markings. They were pretty, but they didn't mask the scent of sickness clinging to the cub. It made Toril stand a good distance away. "Are you dyin' or somethin'?"

"Tori, that's rude." Ulf pointed out, peeping around her as if afraid to get to close to the other girl himself. What if she really was diseased? His mama would kill him if he got sick! "But...is there somethin' wrong with you? You don't look so good."

"He means you look like the walkin' dead."

"Toril!"

She snarled a warning back at her male friend, and turned her critical gaze back to the other cub.