This rp takes place directily at while the kids are away - WC 1228

---

”Kids.” Ciro grumbled, turning away from Njia as he headed inside the cavern. He was hoping to get a little more along time with the female, however, luck would not always be on his side. At least he was able to get another good romp around with her before they parted ways. He did not know if he’d ever see her again, but he knew his den would always be open if she did end up joining the ranks of the Stormborn.

The dark lion followed his ears inside the cave, golden eyes noting the familiar corridors. This cavern was not new to him. He had rested here on raids previously. Sometimes he would find the location filled with rogues wanting shelter, but most of the time it was abandoned. It did not mean his charges would not find anything interesting. Passerbys could leave old pelts, glittering jewels (Ciro had no use for these), or even bones (from lions or non-lions alike). Who knew what could be in here on any given day or down any of the winding corridors.

Today however, it seemed they were not alone. The loud squawking from a bird had caused the lion to speed up slightly. He was just thinking about how to befriend an avian that his female companion had done, and it was as if the Gods were answering his prayers.

Well… Maybe. It depends if the two knuckleheads did not kill it before he arrived.

Golden eyes widened slightly at the scene before him. Astrus was on her hind legs, front legs pushed against a small rocky shelf. Kristanf was perched on top of said shelf, a white falcon dangling from the wing in his maw. It was not a pretty sight. Small and large feathers were littering the ground, showing the struggle the bird had gone through before its capture.

“What are you two doing?” The voice emitted, eyes narrowing once more.

Surprised, the pale male almost dropped his catch. He jumped from his perch (the bird squeaking in the process), stalking up to the male.
“phhooodd” he said with his mouth full.

“Drop it.” There was no arguing with his tone. Ciro’s eyes held pity for the creature he normally wouldn’t if not for the past few days.
Kristanf did as he was told. The bird landed in a heap on the ground, slowly trying to curl itself around the injured wing. Her small form was shaking, pupils constricted in pain.

“I was going to share it.” Kristanf said.

“We didn’t have the meal you promised us last night,” Astrus started, accusingly. “Not that this would be much of a meal for one lion, let alone three.”

“We aren’t going to eat it.” Ciro cut through the siblings.

“What?” The other male asked, jaw dropping. “You know how hard it was to capture it?” Light eyes narrowed too.

Ciro shook his head. “I commend your stalking skills there, Kristanf. However, these creatures are more valuable alive than in your stomach.” The dark lion scolded. Astrus tilted her head.

“You want it to be like some kind of bond that other lions have, don’t you?” She asked. She wasn’t going to fight the reaver on whether or not the bird should be food or not – she’d find other sustenance later.

The dark lion shrugged. “I think that could be beneficial for our travels.” If the two decided to travel with the Reaver again, or chose their own band now once they were Reaver ranked.

“Or beneficial for my stomach.” Kristanf sneered, eyeing the bird. “Probably can’t fly anymore, so you really want it still?” He asked, hoping Ciro would say no.

Reaching down, the lion nudged the wing away from the bird, it snapping its beak at him. The dark male shied his face from the attack. “It still has spunk. I think with some time it the wing should heal, then it will be useful. Don’t bite me.” Ciro scolded the frightened bird, who glared at him.

“Did you guys find anything else?” The Reaver asked.

Astrus spoke this time. “Some musty pelts from a zebra, along with a few skulls. Nothing of great importance by the looks of it.” The female stated, tail curling around her hind leg.

“Those pelts could be useful. Go get them,” Ciro said.

Not wanting to argue, Astrus pushed her brother out of the small room, to the location of the goods they would be taking back with them.

Once out of the room, Ciro turned his attention back to the falcon. “I’m sorry.” He apologized. “Do you have a name?”

The bird eyed him. Of course she had a name, but she wasn’t going to give it to him. Trying to stand, the Falcon chirped, wing hanging limply to her side.
Maybe all birds did not talk? Was it just a vulture thing? Shaking his head, the lion watched the bird. “We can get that fixed for you.” The lion told the avian. “But you got to let me help you.” He stated. “You got to give me some credit, you could be digesting in Kristanf’s stomach right about now.”

The avian stared at him, puffing up. She took a step, chirping quietly. Her head tilted, taking in the words. Sure he was right. She did not have time to morph back into her God form before the lion caught her. She’d be reborn, and who knew when exactly that would happen for her.

Sighing, the bird shook her head. “I accept.” She said quietly.

“Oh. You do talk then.” A small smirk lifted to Ciro’s maw. “Do you have a name?” He repeated the question. The avian chose to ignore him.

“I accept on one condition.” She started. “Keep the brute away from me,” the good feathered wing pointed towards where the two had gone off to.

“Well, I can make no promises on keeping him away, but I can promise you he will not attempt to snack on you again.” The lion stated, following the feathers. The quiet sounds of footsteps started to return. He bowed down, letting the injured bird climb on top of him and nestle in the silver mane. “Do I need to ask your name a third time?”

The bird shuddered, wincing at the pain emitting from her wing. The blue marking on her chest glowed slightly, hiding in the silver hair. “You can call me Gwen.” She said, eyes glaring as the two other lions entered the room.

“Got it.” Ciro said, rising to his feet. “Good job you two. I think the Captain will be quite pleased with these finds.” The pelts could at least line a den. As for the skull? A nice helmet for a captain, or even the Warlord. “Let’s get going. If we make good time now, then we can rest a little more as we get closer to home.” He male said, walking out.

“You want us to carry this?” Kristanf asked incredulously. “Aw come on. Where’s a thrall when you need one.” He sighed as Astrus through the musty pelt over his back. The brother glared at his sister who just smirked.

“Maybe next time you’ll get one.” For her, she had no ambition on finding a thrall like her brother did.

“Yeah. Next time.” Kristanf said dejectedly, walking out after Ciro – his sister following behind.