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Tyr was moping near the waters edge as he was wont to do. He didn't want to be around anyone unless it was his new friend Halvar -- he certainly didn't want to be around his siblings because they made him rage. His brothers both had pretty natural pelts that they wore (although unwittingly) and yet here was Tyr sloshing around in his terrible pink be-hearted pelt. He didn't mind pink so much, his own hair had some pink in it, but this much pink? And the hearts? ...and it was so itchy and warm.

Half-heartedly he chewed on the leather bindings that kept the fur tied to his legs. He didn't have much progress in loosening the things up, and he and Halvar hadn't been able to get together to ponder which adult they could go to and plead with them to set Tyr free.

Tyr was deep in a pit of despair wallowing in self-pity when he heard a loud splash from nearby. Dragging his head into position so that he could see where the noise came from, he watched a cub (one that bore similar markings to his brother, though it didn't strike Tyr as anything odd) dip his head into the water as if it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Tyr wanted to do that.

Tyr wanted to do that bad.

A million curses on this stupid dog-fur that he was forced to wear!!

Tyr inhaled deeply, the action causing his lower lip to whiffle in and out with the shuddering breath. With great effort he drew himself up into a seated position, eyes mournfully meeting those of the other cub. "I'm... I'm Tyr," he said miserably. He really didn't want to socialize right now, not at all, but he didn't want to grow up lonesome and making friends was the only thing he had going for him in his young life. His young itchy life.

He really just wanted to weep with misery, he really did. Really.

But he didn't. He would be strong and steel his heart against the pink shame that rested along his back and head. And ankles.

Sigh.

"Not much," Tyr exhaled sadly, waiting for the questions to start. He knew they'd come -- they always did.

It was itchy. Unbearably itchy. Hellishly itchy. Woefully itchy.

It was so itchy that his... his itches were itchy.

"It's really itchy," Tyr grumbled, lifting a paw to thrash at the water he sat next to. "Really, really itchy. And so hot." He'd been panting earlier because of the heat. They might live high on a mountain but it wasn't high enough to ease the hot glare of the sun.

"My friend Halvar and me tried to get it off but my mom, she ties these strings too tight and we couldn't even chew them off, and we were gonna go find an adult to help us but we couldn't think of one and it just makes me so angry." Tyr didn't sound angry. He sounded defeated. He sounded miserable.

"My mom said they were presents and that we had to wear them all the time. I think she hates us... or me especially. I have to wear a pink one."

Tyr nodded somberly, agreeing to both the part about this being awful, and the part about his mother sounding evil. Tyr had pretty much convinced himself that his mother hated him - really, there could be no other explanation about this, no other reason that the little lion could fathom. It was the only thing he could come up with.

"We might ask Halvar's dad, or his dad's Thrall to do it. We just... have to be careful. Mom will be really upset if she sees me without my fur on. It's really important to her for some reason and I don't really know why." Maybe she was ashamed of her babies, Tyr had no idea. He couldn't figure it out. He'd tried.

"I don't want to get anyone in trouble. My mom is big and scary, and she might... hurt somebody."

Hey, he liked Eirik. Eirik seemed to try and look at the bright side. That was nice, it was nice to have a bud that he could talk to, a bud like Halvar. That was cool.

"I hope my hair doesn't get all stringy and matted," Tyr fussed. He did love his hair, the pretty fade in it from pink to yellow. He wouldn't admit that he loved his hair as that wasn't very manly, but he'd be heartbroken if his hair got all matted and nasty. This stupid fur covered up his pretty hair.

"I s'pose you're right, Eirik. It won't be like this forever... I don't think jackals grow this big right? Mom would have to start..." he didn't want to think about the fact that he was wearing the fur of a dead animal, he really didn't, and so a blatantly abrupt change of topic was due.

"Annit's hard to see out of this stupid thing, too."

Tyr grunted. He didn't much like to duel in all honesty. He liked to play with rocks and collect feathers and watch the clouds or try and catch fish with his bare paws. He wasn't very good at catching fish but it was fun to try, at least until his outfit got all rank and wet. After that it stopped being so much fun.

"You're right, Eirik. It does look stupid. It looks awful. It's ... it's pink," Tyr grumbled, "with hearts on it, too." The cub shook his head.

"I bet your mom would never do this kinda thing to you, huh, Eirik? I bet your dad would say 'No, Eirik's mom, I will not let you do this to my son!' My dad lets my mom do whatever she wants," he finished sullenly.

Tyr snort-giggled. At least Eirik was being honest and not trying to make him feel better about the situation. Yeah, he probably did look like a girl in this getup, but what could be done about the situation? Nothing, nothing at all. He slept in this fur, ate in this fur, played in this fur. He hadn't yet figured out a way to get out of it, much to his dismay, but maybe there would be hope in the future.

He had to grow up someday, right?

"Yeah, when I move into my own cave, that'll be great. I can do whatever I want!" Man, that sounded awesome!

Peering up at the sky, Tyr sighed softly. "I better get home soon, Eirik," he said sadly, morosely looking at his new friend. "My mom will get mad if I stay out too long. She's so weird," he said in exasperation, shaking his head.