Walking with a bit of a swing to her step, the dark-colored lioness who went by the name Gintare made her way through the lands between prides. She was not always familiar with the territories she walked, but in this case she was, and consciously shifted her gait to a shambling, almost stumbling method of forward motion. She let her head hang down and her tail practically drag in the dust.If there was one thing she did not want while traveling these lands, it was to attract the attention of any male. She knew from experience that the males in the nearest pride had a tendency to try to claim females as their own, taking them back to their pride to be subjugated and turned into baby-making, food-gathering thralls. It was a lifestyle she scorned and would rather die than enter into.
She had been fortunate in that her brush with captivity had been with a young lion, out on some quest which required him to return with a female - a banu - before he could be considered an adult in the eyes of the pride. He had wanted to claim her. They had both been younger, both adolescents, but when he explained his intent to her after a brief interlude of somewhat awkward and uncomfortable sex she had struck him across the muzzle with claws out and he had been cowed.
Just thinking of that weak idiot made Tare growl softly. She was very glad no cubs had quickened in her as a result of that meeting. The last thing she wanted, then and now, was a litter of cubs to hold her back and force her to stay in one place. Which was why she now affected such an unusual posture and mien. It was best, in these lands, not to look the least bit desirable. She had learned that lesson well, though she couldn't help but court the danger.
The males of this pride, though annoyingly superior and dominant, did tend to know what they were doing with the bits under their tail, as long as they could be made to understand that she wouldn't be coming back to the pride with them. She kept her amber eyes in constant motion, which served the dual purpose of making her look a little crazy, but also helping her spot any males before they spotted her.
For a moment she thought she might have seen something, a very light colored lion with a vibrant red mane, but when she dropped to the ground, hoping to take refuge in simply not casting a shadow or creating a silhouette to backlight her in the setting sun, she realized he didn't see her. His attention was elsewhere, which suited her well. It was a silly thing, but Tare had always felt that light colored lions simply didn't have it in them to be as strong as a person needed to be in the world, and yet tended to think themselves everyone else's savior.
The prejudice came from her youth, when she remembered a young lion with pale blue fur who had wanted to take her home with him and protect her. She wasn't having any of it. The fact that she was a very young adolescent alone didn't mean she couldn't care for herself. Tare was very self-reliant. Her mother had told her to always be that way before leaving her, and the words had stayed with her for the rest of her life.
The too-helpful blue male had wanted to protect her and make it so she wouldn't need to be brave and strong for herself. She had hissed and spat at him and made it clear that the only way she would go with him would be if he knocked her out and dragged her with him. He had decided to leave her be. Come to think of it, the male from the Ukuucha'Wafalme had been light-colored, too. There were a lot of weak lions with pale coats. Weak of body, mind, and spirit. She was having none of it.
Once the danger in the form of the red-maned lion had passed, Gintare stood up without bothering to shake off the dust and continued on her stumbling way, mentally tracking her progress across the land. Technically she knew she was going around the pride's borders, but that had never stopped a male of the pride from trying to seize a lone female before. She had traversed this way many times, enjoying the thrill and danger. A part of her wondered if she would someday meet a lion she couldn't fend off, and what that would be like. She'd probably kill him in his sleep.
The thought did encourage her to pick up her pace, however, and in a short period of time Tare had mostly crossed the dangerous part of her route. She was both relieved and disappointed not to have encountered any of the lions of the pride. Every once in a while it was not a lion she encountered, but a group of banu hunting. She avoided them even more assiduously than she did the males. There was nothing she wanted with other females. Particularly not those who were willing slaves, bound by love to their tyrannous mates or their children.
Perhaps she would head south after this. Away from the dusty, sandy lands and into the more fertile savanna. She was tired of hunting for hours with little more than a scrawny rabbit or lizard to show for it. Hunger was no fun, and thirst was worse. She hated drinking muddy water just because it was the only water available. In the south, she knew, game was more plentiful, as was water. Besides, the prides to the south were often more tolerant of itinerant females. It would be good to have proper shade to sleep in, too.
Her decision made, Tare shook herself off and returned to her usual gait, walking so that the sun was to her right. Tomorrow or the next day she would find a proper watering hole and take a quick dip.
