[Challenge] Hackin' and wackin' and smackin'

[Zingling]

They were finally back, though most were weary from their latest adventure in the rogue lands. Astrid had a lot to tell but he didn’t wish to really speak it currently. His nerves were shot and so he had politely excused himself from the welcoming home party and instead wandered towards the Oceanside for a bit of salty air. He was starting to earn his scars- his once unmarred body now becoming of map of stories, each scar offering a tale of its own.

Rolling tight shoulders, he felt an ache in his body- rain had started to fall causing his muscles to tense as tiny cold droplets showered upon him. The god of the storms seemed to be greeting him. Looking upward, mismatched eyes narrowed, his mane plastering itself to his brow, every now and again poking him in the eye as it rustled with the wind.

He wasn’t the lion he had been a few moons prior- His father had been right when he urged him to join a Viking with him. He had even met a friend, Casp, whom he appreciated the company of. His sister had offered herself up as a thrall to travel with him. She had been worried he wouldn’t come back alive without her company. The gods were at war and offered many paranormal activities as they collided with each other. And then there was Ably, gravely injured from his first Viking… He would have to find him eventually and pay his respects, even if he honestly disagreed with his overall nature.

Turning his back to the ocean, Astrid started back towards the center of the pride when a familiar face caught his eye- Was that the first lion he had ever fought as a reaver? What was his name…

“The storm is picking up!” He called to the familiar face- This was a fact and not a saying between brethren. The rainstorm truly was picking up at this time, sending cold droplets of rain scattering all over. Had he no fur it would no doubt sting upon impact, but thankfully that wasn’t the case… however his eyes had no shield and were at the mercy of the rainstorms fury.  

[I Lady Kiya I]

Wind was blowing all around Nyauhoggua. His mane flying wildly in the rain and wind as it did so, only bits were getting stranded on his face. He made no reaction at all to the on coming storm that was headed in. He enjoyed this sort of weather. It was what kept him feeling alive, what he was looking for in a home. The cold smell of salty seas that hit the rocks here and there along the coast.

Today was a good day to die. He told himself in his head as he padded along the rocky ground. He was looking for something to do, someone he could tag along and join a raid. He wanted to be come strong and important. Show the world he was worth a damn.

To his surprise, however, he saw a some what familiar face. Here he was, wondering around looking for something to do, and here he was faced with the lion he had yet to beat in a fight. Today might be that day.

Zingling