Morgana was taking some time away from her little group of wanderers to find them a new path to follow. The hills around this area told her they were getting close to all mountainous terrain, which might be too hard a climb on some of them. Uther would be all for it, constantly pushing them like they were his knights, to get them into fighting shape and restore some sort of honor he felt lacking. That was the God of Chivalry in him, though, Morgana supposed. She did not have any God blood in her, though, and did not agree with his constant pushing and bravery for the sake of it. They were out here to do good, yes, but not at the expense of their own lives and happiness. All she wanted was to find places for her little group to settle, to find them homes and prides if that was what they wanted, or to pick up new members for their own roaming group. It was meant to be a much simpler existence than the lives they led in the Tokakinji, though the war was finally over. She sighed, trying to shake those bad memories from her head.

It was still very hard to think about all the mistakes she had made, and how badly she’d been used by someone she trusted so blindly. Of course, maybe putting her faith in a Goddess whose domain was Villainy had always been a mistake, and she was just too determined to get what she wanted to back down.

Over the crest of a nearby hill, Rizardon’s mind was far from troubled. He was out from his pride simply for some fresh air. Enjoying the much warmer temperatures down here, though not as hot as in the open plains, Rizardon liked the lower hill lands that surrounded their pride’s mountain. He hummed to himself as he padded along, head high and song tuneless. He was not exactly a musical sort, more fit for brawling or, if his fluff was any indication, being some sort of snuggling teddy bear. He did not mind cuddles, of course, and was a leisurely type of lion when it came down to it. He loved to spar and fight, but never picked a battle that was unnecessary, and always did his best to make friends with those he came across. There was no point making enemies out of those that could potentially be allies or help him in some way in the future, right? And if he could help someone now, he’d do that, too. So when he saw the lioness walking across the plains, looking a little lost and distracted, his instinct to go toward her and help her was immediately in high gear.

“Hello there, madam!” he called, as politely as he could. He was not the sharpest claw on the paw, so to speak, so he had some trouble finding the best words for introductions, or for deeper conversations than how nice the weather was. But he thought that just added to his charm. At least, that was what he hoped.

Morgana looked up when she heard someone calling to her, seeing a very large lion walking toward her. He was one of the biggest, fluffiest things she had ever seen, and yet her immediate response was not her usual defensiveness. Oddly, he did not give off an ounce of hostility, his eyes bright and his smile plainly honest as he came to a stop a short, but safe, distance away from her. She offered him a soft, though a little awkward, smile in greeting.

“Hello, sir. Do you live around here? I’m afraid I’m not quite sure of my surroundings,” she almost sounded apologetic. It was a big change to how she used to conduct herself, all bravado all the time, and sometimes it was a little difficult for her to remind herself how different she needed to be. She was no longer the lioness that went around looking for trouble, and she needed to keep herself in some sort of order and control. Ultimately, she was modeling herself on her now lost mother, who died because of her during the civil war in her old home. She would never forgive herself for the loss, accidental though it was on her part, and wanted to honor her loving, calm, even tempered mother as best she could.

“I do! Well, up those mountain ranges over there, behind all those clouds. Where all the snow is? That white cap is my home, there! It’s nice to come down here, though, and get away from all that snow and ice sometimes, you know? They say I’ve got fire in my blood, since I don’t usually get cold, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see something other than white all the time! Oh, sorry, I haven’t talked to anyone in a little while. My name is Rizardon. It’s. Uhm. It’s a pleasure… uh… honor to meet you.” He bowed his head, picking up on her regal air and doing his best to respond appropriately. At least, as much as he thought was needed.

The effort made her smile, the tip of her ears feeling oddly warmer for a moment. She had not noticed how cool it had really gotten until that moment, and she shuddered. Rizardon noted it and realized it was a great time for him to do what he was best at: being a blanket. He moved forward suddenly, scaring the life out of Morgana with what could have been a charge. She stood stunned, though, with little time to react as he walked right up to her and leaned his fluffy body against hers. Immediately, she felt warmer, but was too busy staring at him in baffled wonder to really understand where it was coming from. Him, or her embarrassment.

“It’s cold around here, eh? And it can sneak up on you. But no worries, like I said! Fire in the blood. Not too bad, huh?”

“…no, not too bad,” Morgana said, scooting away from him. She offered him an apologetic look. “I’d better be getting back to my group…”

“Oh? Oh, okay! No worries. Hey, I’ll be around here tomorrow, if you are! I can show you some of the other hills, huh?” Apparently not noticing her embarrassment, he smiled warmly and she found herself nodding her head without any permission from her brain.

“That… sounds nice. I’ll meet you here.”


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