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It was a gloomy day. The rainclouds overhead were thick, gray, and low to the earth. Now and then the sky would rumble and the fur on the back of every lion's neck would rise up. They felt the weather, they smelled it in the air, the electricity danced in their veins. For some, the rainy season was a nightmare. Flash floods, fires started from strikes of lightning, mud everywhere, and dark, gloomy days. The stormborn were true to their name- they delighted in it. The thunder was something that filled their chests with pride, the lightning might as well have shot from their own hearts, and the rain was just another obstacle on their training field.

Of the Stormborn, perhaps none delighted so much in the weather as Thor. Self-proclaimed son of the storms often sparred in the pouring rain. He roared loud enough to rival the thunder, and as a warrior he was hardly a slouch. With his skill, most just let him have whatever cute nickname he wanted, regardless of how silly it was considering the actual offspring of the thunder god existed within the lands.

He trudged forward and lifted his eyes as the sky rumbled and smiled, as if looking up to an old friend. "A GOOD DAY FOR A PATROL I WOULD THINK." he boomed, looking over to the newer recruit. A freeborn that had fought his way in just a year back, winning his one and only spar. "I HOPE YOU DO NOT MIND THE RAINS, THEY VISIT US OFTEN."


Vilkas snorted and rolled his eyes. He'd tried, unsuccessfully as many others had, to get the lion to control the volume of his voice. Thor, however, was proud of his booming voice and while he spoke eloquently, it was very difficult to miss him in a crowd. Perhaps that was entirely the point. He didn't fear an ambush and had no reason to fear giving away his location. The more that know where he was, the better. Vilkas, however, was more down to earth. He didn't mind the quiet, didn't mind listening to his own thoughts, but Thor's company was enjoyable enough. For all his tall tales, he was a decent sort.

"If I minded a little rain I would not have found myself by a lake." He pointed out, his voice accented with a sort of bounce to it that was growing more common within the pride.

"Strange, though...", He turned to watch the rolling mist from the border, just a ways below them. It looked like a hungry beast, sitting in wait at the base of the great stone where the two males stood. "The fog is thicker than normal..."

"THE SPIRITS DELIGHT IN THE RAINS. DID YOUR MOTHER NOT EVER TELL YOU OF THE STORIES?" Thor began down the rock, taking slow, confident steps. It was damp most days of the year and a careless lion could suffer a nasty fall. One had, actually. Poor Icarus.

"BEYOND THE VEIL OF MIST, THE SPIRITS OF AN UNFORTUNATE PRIDE LINGER. KILLED OFF BY ILLNESS AND RED PELTS FROM THE DESERT SANDS. THEY SEEK OFFERINGS, AND IF THEY ARE PLEASED, THEY LET US BE. I HAVE NOT YET HEARD OF ANYONE OFFERING THEIR YOUNG TO IT...BUT THAT'S HOW THE STORY GOES."

Vilkas lifted his head as something broke the silence. Not a rumble of thunder, not a crack of lightning, not a breeze but... a squeak? The lion, smaller than Thor but only by a bit, was far more observant. He was a hunter prior to his arrival at the pride, and a damn good one at that. He and his twin prided themselves in being able to follow a herd for weeks if need be. He knew the earth, he knew the wind, the sounds, the directions that the breezes could shift. He knew what sounds should be heard and what sounds were outside of the norm.

"Quiet." He barked to his companion. Thor raised a brow but complied, more curious than anything.

Looking ahead, Vilkas quickly closed the distance between the high rise of the rock and the ground level. He stepped forward, listening as another quiet squeak penetrated the fog. He moved in that direction, quickly but silently, his head down in case whatever it was...was not friendly. All this talk of spirits and tributes was getting to his psyche, regardless of how silly he personally found all of it.

In short time, he found the small newborn, crawling against the stone. He motioned for his companion to come closer, his eyes tight and his mouth tight in a grim wince. "Seems your spirits have sent a reject back..."

Thor stepped forward, his expression serious. After a moment, he saw what his companion was addressing and his eyes went wide. "THAT IS NOT ONE OF OURS. I KNOW WELL ENOUGH THE LITTERS THAT HAVE SPRUNG UPON US AS OF LATE... STRANGE. ANOTHER FEW CUBS WERE FOUND IN THE MIST NOT LONG AGO..."

He lowered his nose and nudged the tiny belly. It was far too young to be without a mother...

It was a boy. Okay at least that was out of the way.

He was small, weak, barely a few hours old perhaps. For once in his life, Thor looked almost helpless. He didn't know how to deal with cubs, much less cubs as small and helpless as this one. Without a mother's milk, he would die...and soon. It became evident that even the cub knew this as the little creature sucked on his nose.

"HE NEEDS SUSTENANCE." Thor announced, lifting his head carefully to look at Vilkas. "THE WARLORD WILL UNDERSTAND IF WE DO NOT PATROL TODAY. PERHAPS WE SHOULD TAKE HIM TO A NURSING FEMALE. DO YOU KNOW OF ANY?"

Vilkas made a face and looked over his shoulder. "The warlord may allow one of us to return, but not both. Someone should keep an eye out." He looked to the mist, his eyes filled with mistrust. Whatever was out there... it clearly wasn't very humane. Perhaps the rumors of spirits was true. Perhaps this cub was a child of the dead.

"Take him back, Thor. Find a female. Then tell the war lord what you found...but I'll warn you, most females won't take in another one. Once he's old enough, he may be pushed aside."

Thor frowned and took a deep breath. "WE WILL SEE. STAY THEN, I'M CERTAIN I CAN HANDLE MYSELF."

The male leaned down and carefully, gently, sought out the cub's tiny scruff and lifted him up away from the cold ground.

Vilkas took a step back as Thor lifted the tiny cub up and settled him gently in his jaws. The cub squirmed, his tiny face wrinkling up as a little pink tongue stuck itself out. It was almost comical, if the situation had been any less troubling.

"At least he has some spirit." The lion pointed out. "Off with you, Thor, the little one needs some food. See that he gets it. I would also make a suggestion-" he raised a claw, "Whomever you find to allow him to suckle will need to be assured that this is not her burden to take on. Two cubs entered the lands the other day, they came from the mists as well. Only one has found a home. The other has been left to his own devices."

Thor frowned. Another cub was just ... left alone? Two would be a little much, especially for a male who had no experience with cubs, but...maybe one would be okay. The others he had heard about, but both were weaned and had entered the lands in good enough health. This one was small, pitiful, and in a few hours he would have been dead.

"I WILL SEE TO HIM, VILKAS, DO NOT WORRY." He spoke around the tiny flap of skin in his mouth, careful not to drop the cub. Sadly, he only made himself look a little slow in the head in doing so. "HE WILL NOT GO WITHOUT SOME SORT OF GUIDING PAW."

"See that he doesn't." The other lion flicked his tail and turned back to the mist. "Don't waste time on me, I can handle a patrol."

The lion nodded, gathered the cub up a little more, and started back the way he'd come.

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