[PRP] All da braids! (Alaric & Tindra)

[Princess_Feylin]

Morning came entirely too early for Lars' taste. At least this morning did. He had been out late the night before with his friend Snorri, doing...something. By the diffused light of day he couldn't recall what he and Snorri had been up to. It had involved one of the lionesses Snorri kept dangling on a string, maybe?

He rolled over and stretched, pulling at some scabbed-over scratches. Oh, that's right. He and Snorri had staged a fight over a girl who was proving difficult to sway. Lars had lost, but barely, as planned. Even though the whole thing had been choreographed the blows and bites had been real. Authenticity was required if Snorri was going to get intimate with the lioness at the end. She would be bound to notice if Snorri wasn't actually injured a bit, which would seriously damage both reavers' credibility.

Still, Lars felt pleased with himself for doing a good deed and set out from his den with a bit of bounce in his step until he remembered that he was supposed to be dejected over his loss. More acting. Snorri had better have had an excellent evening.

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When Tindra last saw Lars, he was lookin' mighty fine thanks to her skillful braidwork.

But now. NOW!

She had not been expecting to see the lion in such a state the day after fixing his look!

"Lars!" Tindra screeched, aghast. She had been out picking flowers, but she dropped them at once and hurried over to the Reaver. "Your mane!"

It would be foolish to ask what had happened to it. Obviously, he had been brawling. Reavers tended to do that. But she would have thought Lars would take a little better care of his mane. Fearless of the Reaver's potential wrath, Tindra frowned at him.

"I have to take the rest of that braid out immediately! Right now! Or your mane will be one big knot by nightfall! Just one big knot!"  

[Princess_Feylin]

An eerie screeching made Lars want to die as his ears flattened as close to his skull as his tousled mane would allow. It was not a sound often heard in the pride, but he'd been on more than enough vikings to recognize it: a hyena in distress. Of course, usually distressed hyenas did not screech his name in particular. It took him another moment to process the rest of the words through the screech.

"Too early for that," he murmured to the red-maned hyena. "My mane's not worth waking the whole pride over."

Though now that she had mentioned it, he imagined it must be pretty badly messed up after last night's events. He'd had her style it nicely especially for his planned fight with Snorri, so it would seem as though he was attempting to impress the girl, but he hadn't given it any more thought than that. Now he wondered how awful it was, to have provoked that ear-splitting reaction.

"I was on my way to breakfast, actually. I'll come see you later." The thrall was talented, no doubt, but presumptuous, and Lars was too tired to be nice to her.

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Princess_Feylin

Tindra could tell when she was getting brushed off, but she was not about to be shooed away when Lars's mane was in such a state. Later indeed! Later, his mane would be one giant frizzled poof of tangles and lion sweat and probably crumbs and sprigs of mint, if she knew anything about Reavers.

"I'll fix your mane while you eat," Tindra announced, falling into step with Lars. She couldn't flat out order the Reaver to sit still right where he was at (although she had been known to boss a lion or two in her time), but she was certainly going to attach herself to him. Lars liked his braids. He wouldn't want his mane ruined.

"It's very important to pull out tangles, you know. They just get worse. Worse and worse! Before you know it, your mane will be just one big tangled up fluff of mess, probably getting food stuck in it. It's even worse if you sleep on a tangle. Then it gets stuck that way, sometimes for days. Days and days. I knew a lion who slept on a tangled up braid for a week, and it got so bad I had to cut it out. I had to cut out the whole braid, I tell you, and by the time I cut it out it was as big as a lion cub, and that is a fact."  

[Princess_Feylin]

"Not necessary," Lars said softly, but he already knew it made no difference. The thrall would not be put off, and so he had best resign himself to the idea that he would at some point in the near future having his mane untangled and braided again to her satisfaction.

"I'm not going to get food stuck in my mane. How could anyone possibly get food stuck in his mane?" That bespoke a level of carelessness and filth that Lars would find unbearable. Lars preferred things neat and orderly as much as possible, which was part of why he allowed Tindra to tend his mane and keep it styled when he was in the stronghold.

"And I don't intend to go for days without doing anything about my mane. I just intend to go for breakfast." He really didn't fancy the idea of having the eyes of the pride on him while he had a thrall tend his mane as he ate. That seemed entirely too flowery to be acceptable.

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Tindra strutted along beside Lars, head held high, looking as officious as possible. The how of getting food stuck in one's mane was beyond her as well, but she had seen it happen. Several times, in fact. Some of the lions ... well. They left something to be desired as far as cleanliness went.

"After breakfast is too late," Tindra said firmly. "Too late! What if a rambunctious Reaver starts a food fight?" It had happened. "What if a thrall trips over your tail and spills eggs all over your mane?" It could happen. "What if someone starts brawling and gets their throat ripped out and bleeds to death all over your mane?" It probably wouldn't happen, but it might. "It would get so tangled you would probably have to shave your whole mane off and start fresh. It would be a disaster."

Tindra was a Cassandra of hair, a dark prophetess of the downfall of manes.

"And I hardly had time to talk with you the last time I did your mane. I want to hear all about your glorious battles. It must have been a glorious battle to ruin your mane so badly. And did you hear Captain Thorgrim's going to lead a viking? Soon, he said. I'm sure it's going to be wonderful. He promised me he would, you know. He said he's going to find the most handsome husband in the whole world for me. That's what he said. Are you going? I don't know who he's asked to go, but if you want to go, you might ask him, because you're so very strong and brave, I'm sure he would like you to go."  

[Princess_Feylin]

Lars looked at the hyena slantwise, trying to figure out how serious she was in making her dire predictions. As much as he was in favor of peaceful breakfasts consumed in relative silence, he couldn't help being amused by the disasters she foresaw as possibilities for breakfast this morning. Most of them he dismissed as being wholly unlikely. The Stormborn could be violent, even in the mornings, but mostly within the stronghold the violence was kept to certain sanctioned areas.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Of course she wasn't. This was her calling and she was good at it. Probably going around with his mane in whatever state it was in presently was damaging her reputation as a stylist.

He listened without interrupting as Tindra told him about Thorgrim's upcoming viking. It was a mystery to him why the captain would go viking just to find a thrall a husband, but Thorgrim did have his paw in a number of pies, so perhaps he was playing a deeper game in this. Lars would have to think about that.

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Princess_Feylin

"You can't just let tangles go," Tindra said. "There! The food!" They had reached an area where thralls had set out food for hungry breakfasting lions. Tindra ushered Lars over to a haunch of something-or-other and waited impatiently for him to sit down. She, of course, had her breakfast as soon as she woke up. If you left breakfast too late it threw your whole day off and made you look tired.

Once Lars had settled down Tindra swooped in on his mane like a vulture moving in on a carcass. She clenched her comb in her teeth and tugged at the snarls and tangles mercilessly. There was no time to waste. Tindra liked braiding much more than combing, because when braiding she could also be talking.

"There we go, I've got the worst of the tangles out. But it's still stiff, you know. That's what comes from sleeping on it. I'll just smooth everything out." Tindra used her dainty paws to smooth out Lars's mane, carefully sorting everything out. Lars had a very nice, luxurious mane. Usually a neat mane. Tsk tsk. Tindra settled into braiding. "So tell me about this glorious battle, Lars!"

There was no quicker way to settle a grumpy Reaver than to ask him to brag.  

[Princess_Feylin]

Lars submitted to being directed toward something he supposed would do for breakfast. Ordinarily he wasn't a breakfast person at all, which was why he preferred to eat alone and in silence when he did have it, but some things could not be helped or avoided. Fussy thralls being among them, apparently.

He appreciated that she was forced to be silent while combing his mane out, and perhaps he made the task a little more challenging than it actually needed to be by tearing into his breakfast with far more gusto than he would have done had Tindra not been there. If he made this part more work, it would take her longer and allow him more silent time. Alas, she was good at what she did and it did not take her long to have the tangles worked out. Maybe they hadn't been as bad as she described.

"Eating," he pointed out in order to avoid answering her question. Since the whole battle had been a bit of acting, put on to get his friend laid, he really preferred not to discuss it, lest his details later conflict with Snorri's.

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Princess_Feylin

So Lars was going to do the strong-and-silent thing over breakfast. Well, that was okay by Tindra. She had basically just been given free reign to let her mouth run. She went over his mane with the comb for a few moments, making absolutely sure it was tangle-free and ready for braiding while she organized her thoughts.

"So," said Tindra, patting at Lars's mane again and separating out a chunk of it to start braiding. "I told you about Captain Thorgrim's viking, right? I'm so excited, wouldn't you be? A husband for me. The male hyenas in this pride are just unsuitable for a decent lady, don't you think? And not good-looking. It's a shame, but I know Captain Thorgrim will find me the most handsome husband a lady could want. Only I'm a little concerned, because I was talking about it with Orja, you might not know him, he's a thrall of course so you might not know his mane, well, I was talking with Orja and he brought up fleas. And I know we've had a problem with fleas lately. Brought back from the Roguelands, they said. I hope Captain Thorgrim doesn't bring me back a husband with fleas. Are they just all over the Roguelands? Fleas, I mean, not husbands. I know you've been out there, so I thought you would know about the fleas. I shudder to think that I might get a handsome husband, only to find him covered in fleas! It would be disgraceful, and that's a fact. I've always been very careful to keep myself tidy, you know. Not like some of the scruffier people around here. Not Reavers of course, never would I say a bad word about a Reaver and you know that, Lars, but some of the thralls. Scruffy. No pride in themselves. I don't think Captain Thorgrim would find me a scruffy husband, he did say he would find me a handsome one, but I am concerned about the fleas, because they say sometimes you can't tell. About the fleas, that is. They say you just suddenly wake up -- poof, fleas. My friend Valena told me 'You lie down with wild dogs, you wake up with fleas'. Of course I don't want a wild dog husband, that would be silly, but I think the principle applies. So what do you think, Lars?"

She paused for breath.  

[Princess_Feylin]

How the hyena spoke for so long without pausing for breath was a mystery to Lars. If she had that kind of breath support and actually applied it to something useful, like fighting, she might even be formidable. But instead she used it to gossip, and that was probably for the best. No one needed any more sassy hyenas running around. Even the ones they had were too numerous.

She had mentioned something earlier about Thorgrim going viking to find her a husband and Lars had not known what to think of it, or if he had actually misheard something else, since it seemed unlikely a captain would go out viking just to find a husband for somebody else's thrall, even if that somebody else was his brother. But, no. He'd heard correctly. Thorgrim was going to find the hairdressing hyena a husband. Clearly he needed more things to occupy his time.

"Fleas are pretty awful," he agreed, rather than comment on the insanity that was a captain playing matchmaker for a thrall. He didn't trust himself not to say something on the subject that would get him a rat's nest in his mane.

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