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 Posted: Tue Nov 16, 2010 8:56 am
Emeka nodded thoughtfully, thinking about Abdul scouting ahead on raids. Many of the days in these parts seemed cloudy or blusterous. He’d likely go unnoticed in the misty murk and make a fair scout despite his unusual size. Ahh, and he could watch any captured Thralls bring brought back quite excellently from above. “Well he’s self-sufficient and he tends to go off on his own whims every now and then, so it’s not too crowding.” He shrugged, but Skratta wasn’t the first negative opinion he’d heard about non-lion lackeys. It was a matter of opinion, he supposed.
He chuckled at the mention of cubs. “I bet you have. When I practiced fighting as a cub I came up with quite a few stories about how else I’d gotten scratched up.”
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Posted: Wed Nov 24, 2010 10:54 am
He nodded, watching the bird for a moment longer before his gaze returned to Emeka. He grinned a little at him, nodding in agreement. "And I," he said, a rumbling laugh building in his throat. "I used to tell quite a few stories to my father to hide my losses." It had ached the young Skratta to lose to his brothers, and saying his wounds came from accidents and not losses eased the cub's mind.
When he got older, Skratta realized how ridiculous that was. Losing wasn't bad. It was the best way to learn. He hadn't learned much, but he learned some. "It speaks to their creativity, the stories they tell. Some of them will make great Reavers in the future." And those who wouldn't, well... They'd find their way.
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