n0cturne
"Are not most dragons rumored to be fiery and grouchy? Why then, being that most lions are intelligent (though I am beginning to believe that rumor less and less), would you dare approach it?" Her orange eyes turned downwards, focusing on him. "Were you truly in that much of a daze to give you the false bravery to approach a reptile that would easily consume you whole?"
It was good that Issy had a tolerance for cubs. Ilanga despised the little fleas. They were nothing but demons wrapped in innocent pelts – deceiving creatures that did nothing but make a lioness grow large and tired. Not only that, but once a female had gone through the trouble of squeezing the multiple brats out, they latched their slimy little gums to her belly and threatened to suck her innards straight out. Ilanga had determined, months ago, that she would never have cubs of her own. This had occurred after she had witnessed an old mother, her belly swaying with unlost baby pounds, and bogged down with a trail of cubs. Not only that, but the lioness was absolutely mangy looking from the mass amounts of hunting she had to do to feed those whining mouths. No. That life was not for Ilanga.
"I wish you would fall asleep in the open. I doubt any harm would come to you, for I'm sure you taste as foul as your overly-sugared tongue makes you out to be," she chuckled, her eyes narrowed in amusement. "But if some such creature was in the mood for such a sugary "treat", it would serve me well, for it would mean I'd never come across your path ever again." She turned her head back towards the distance, shrugging her hackles just slightly. "But it makes no difference to me. Either way, I will be rid of you."
A spare glance was cast to the charcoal male, and her eyebrow quirked. "And what, pray tell, are you staring at?" The poor creature did not realize the dazzling display the clear day and sunlight created as it played along her varied-colored bodice.
It was good that Issy had a tolerance for cubs. Ilanga despised the little fleas. They were nothing but demons wrapped in innocent pelts – deceiving creatures that did nothing but make a lioness grow large and tired. Not only that, but once a female had gone through the trouble of squeezing the multiple brats out, they latched their slimy little gums to her belly and threatened to suck her innards straight out. Ilanga had determined, months ago, that she would never have cubs of her own. This had occurred after she had witnessed an old mother, her belly swaying with unlost baby pounds, and bogged down with a trail of cubs. Not only that, but the lioness was absolutely mangy looking from the mass amounts of hunting she had to do to feed those whining mouths. No. That life was not for Ilanga.
"I wish you would fall asleep in the open. I doubt any harm would come to you, for I'm sure you taste as foul as your overly-sugared tongue makes you out to be," she chuckled, her eyes narrowed in amusement. "But if some such creature was in the mood for such a sugary "treat", it would serve me well, for it would mean I'd never come across your path ever again." She turned her head back towards the distance, shrugging her hackles just slightly. "But it makes no difference to me. Either way, I will be rid of you."
A spare glance was cast to the charcoal male, and her eyebrow quirked. "And what, pray tell, are you staring at?" The poor creature did not realize the dazzling display the clear day and sunlight created as it played along her varied-colored bodice.
