An older, scarred lion trudged through a layer of soft ground as he made his rounds circling the family lands. Though his kin were rogues, their numbers were near enough to encompass a pride itself, though they had no name to fall under. Their rules were simple; Protect what is yours. Blood didn't mean anything, so long as your heart could recognize what was close.
Abrafo knew the leopardess at his side wasn't his grand-daugther by blood, but since she was the granddaughter of his mate she was just as much his as hers. In his own affectionate way he walked close to her, matching his longer, more purposeful stride to her shorter walk. He smiled to her, which as nothing more than a snarl to others who didn't know. "You've come a long way, Iratze. You've made a fine healer."
Bristling under the compliment she could only nod. There wasn't much Iratze was good for besides the study of herbs. She used that knowledge to help out when she could, and even recently into her adulthood she had learned to take an active role in treating wounds, but still...She was no Patriarch, like her grandpa, nor a silent thief, a huntress, nor a warrior. She was just...Iratze.
It brought out a depression funk in her. She had always been the runt; a runt of a runt that was as sick as the sun was bright. Though her body was not nearly as frail as it had been she had never become very large, or strong. She felt like a disappointment among her kin, and it stung.
"...Why did you bring me with you today? I patrol with Xabryel, like you do with Isith. Shouldn't that be the wa-?"
"It should, and would have been, had your patrol extended further into the world. You've barely stepped foot away from the denning area since you were a cub. It's time that changed."
Seaki
