The day had started off quietly - the large red, intricately marked lion knew today would likely be the day he became a Father. A Father, by choice of his, but not by choice of the Mothers. So it was up in the air of how she'd treat the little ones she carried. Frankly he could care less, if he hadn't already begun to plan out what he'd do with these cubs he likely would have left them high and dry, to fend for themselves. Yet even with his plans, he felt a longing to be there, perhaps as due to not having parents around when he was young. He paused in thought about his dead Mother, such a tragedy. It was then he realized that perhaps the Mother of his own cubs might not survive, there was something sweet about such a thought. "If my Mother didn't deserve to live, than none deserve to live." His words were harsh and corrupt.

Soon, after some time had passed Angra decidedly made his way to the yellow female that would birth his cubs. As he approached he heard the not so shocking sounds of mewing, they had been born. Coming around a bush or two to where she had herself hidden he stared at the litter of cubs laying out before him - the scene was a bloody mess, plenty of gooey business he wanted nothing of and he made a crass comment to which the female didn't respond. It was in these moments he sat, dropping his rump with a great ease and grace that would impress any female. It was then that the littles ones began to move about, showing which were stronger than the others, in his eager eyes. It was a bewildering sight to see these little beings wriggle about.

He could kill them. The cruel thought drifted through his mind, the sea of yellows, greens and reds moved about. Moments after that thought he spotted something strange, a color he hadn't seen since he was a cub. The sea of yellow, greens, and reds parted to show him a baby blue cub with a purple instricate markings. If the big lion would let himself cry, he probably would have. In fact he almost did. The cub wriggled, moving just as quickly as the others, but in a gentle fashion - something so petite, yet strong. He smiled, actually smiled at the little cub and picked up it's wriggling form. The pelt reminded him of his Mother, the pale blue and purples. Those intricates swirls he adored so much swayed as the cub was picked up and peered at.

"My my, Mother would have loved you." His smile faded as a tortured grimace appeared. Part of him was disgusted by the pale colors, but deeo down he found he had discovered his favorite. This little one would hold his heart for as long as the pair of them lived. "I'm not sure I want the rest." By this point he realized he was talking to himself. The big lion peered, glaring, at the females still face - her chest heaved in a regular pattern signifying sleep, most likely. He gave a deep sigh, knowing he still needed her killed him a small amount, but even he understand the need of a mother in the early stages of life, perhaps he wouldn't have been so terrible if he had had a mothers love. Since he knew so little about that it was hard to judge, but he knew that a mother could provide food. Food that he wouldn't have to get himself.

Angra Mainyu set down the pale blue cub, the apple of his, and looked about at the others. One had begun to blindly approach him, nose twitching as it moved. He peered down at it, unable to hide his look of disgust. The pelt was ideal at least, vibrant red and the mark of a wing. Something he prided himself on having - he wasn't entirely sure why, but he hadn't seen anyone else adorned with such a marking and so he deemed it pleasing. The cub paced herself at his paws and let out a tiny growl. Angra stared, eyebrow raised in curiosity. "You have an attitude." He muttered, the look of disgust fading briefly, but not entirely fading. There was no reason to smile at these small bodies anymore. It was only the pale blue cub that held his heart in this case.

"What do you want?" He growled at the cub. Seeing it shy away a little he smiled, not a soft loving smile, but something to shrink away from. He was grinning in such a way as to suggest murder. It was entirely out of his style, he had murdered for less. "Stop your growling." He knocked away the attitude lit cub and watched as it tumbled away tail over head. It cried out softly, nothing to alarming, but something that struck his heart funny. Was he getting soft? "No." He firmed up and that was the deciding factor on if he would play a role in their young lives - he couldn't stand to participate in such an act as parenthood. Forcing himself away he stood, gave a small stretch of his paws and moved slowly. This, even for him, was a hard choice. He wanted those cubs, but not now, not during such a lifeless time. They'd be useless at this point, not until they were a touch older.

With the decision made he found the nearest watering hole and laid down, it wasn't to distant his 'family', he would want them eventually. Fortunately she wouldn't be able to move them, not without him likely noticing. This was the best plan, for what he had in mind, he needed her calm - relaxed in such a way that when he decided to take them he could without much of a struggle. She would begin to trust her surroundings, maybe even leave the cubs alone for a time. That would be his opportunity. Older, stronger and capable survivalists. Or that was his thought behind it. Until then he made plans on how to avoid her and his 'family'.