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The den was so full of people! All the time, Mirsajadi found himself surrounded by other lions, almost all of them striped. He really couldn't keep track of them all, or even begin to tell them apart most of the time. Well, that wasn't quite true. He had a brother who was spotted instead of striped, and he was pretty easy to tell from the others. And Mirsajadi was slowly coming to realize that most of the people who were brown or gold striped tended to be only those from his litter, and therefore as small as he was, like his spotted brother. The others, the ones who were greenish, they were bigger, which apparently meant older, and they looked more like the other really big, maneless lion in the den. He wasn't sure of her name yet, but he thought it was something like Cuckoo or Yucko or whatever. She wasn't his mother. His mother was his mother, and she was brown striped like he was. And very warm. He liked that she was very warm all the time, and full of food.

Some aspects of being a vizier's son were less pleasant than others, Ilyas reflected as he walked from his father's den to the den of the other vizier. Most of the time he couldn't seem to hold the other vizier's name in his head. He just remembered that his father never had anything kind to say about him, and that he was not a good lion by Faiz's standards, which also happened to be Ilyas' standards at this point in his life. Nevertheless, it was polite and good for Ilyas to go and offer his congratulations to the black vizier - Tariq'ra'd, he reminded himself firmly - and his banu, Orah. He had no difficulty remembering the name of the banu, but it was much shorter. Most of the names in Ilyas' family were shorter, and he was going to blame his current inability to hold longer names in his head on that, rather than on some mental deficiency. He knew for a fact that he had no mental deficiency of any sort. Still, he wished he didn't have to play nice with a bunch of cubs.

One of his siblings - Mirsajadi didn't see which one - kicked him in the side of the head, eliciting a snap and a growl from the ruby-eyed cub. He wasn't the most fierce of cubs, but he wasn't willing to let himself be kicked without some sort of retaliation. He just didn't know who he ought to be retaliating against. He hadn't seen who kicked him, and just kicking into the furry tangle of limbs and tails which were his siblings didn't seem like the wisest course of action. There were entirely too many of them for him to take them all on all by himself. So growling and snapping would have to do, and in the meantime he would simply remove himself to a place where he could receive no further damage from his careless brothers and sister. With an effort he squirmed free of the others and made his way away from them on tottery legs. He could walk, and he was pretty good at it, but he wasn't fast or graceful yet. He simply yearned for speed and grace like nothing else.

For whatever reason the walk to Tariq'ra'd's den seemed ungodly long to Ilyas that morning. Perhaps it was because he had only recently eaten breakfast and was so full that his body seemed to have entered something resembling a torpor. Not that he knew what the word torpor meant, but if he had known, it would have been the word he chose to describe his present state of being. He was torpid. But it also put him in a better mood, his full belly, so he thought he could handle playing nice with the cubs of a nasty vizier for an hour or so. Besides, they were just cubs. They couldn't possibly be nasty, too, could they? He clung to this hope as he drew closer and closer to the den. When he was at last in sight of the place he paused and sighed before performing the equivalent of knocking and waiting to be allowed in. Inside he explained his purpose to one of the cubs who'd let him in and then proceeded further in, until he encountered a single, very young cub making his way outside.

Once Mirsajadi had gotten the hang of the walking thing - and it was something he had to remind himself of every time he attempted it - he found that he really rather enjoyed it. It was amazing to have this kind of independence. Not that it he realized it was independence and freedom he was enjoying, more than the walking, but for the time being he knew he was just very pleased with himself for having figured it out yet again. No one was as clever as he was. Except maybe his father. His father was amazing and very, very smart. Mirsajadi wanted to grow up to be just like him. He wondered if his father would be impressed if he managed to sneak away from his mother's watchful eyes and greet him at the entrance like the bigger lions did. Probably it would. so when he saw one of the bigger lions moving toward the entrance he began to stride purposefully in that direction. All was going very well until he found himself looking at someone who was not his father. He stared.

Ilyas stared down at the striped cub making his unsteady way in the opposite direction to the one in which Ilyas himself was headed. On one paw, it was a very strong indicator that he was headed in the correct direction. On the other paw, Ilyas was fairly certain the cub wasn't supposed to be away from the others. Putting on a smile which he hoped was friendly, the blue-eyed pesar crouched down so that he was closer to the ruby-eyed pesar's level and then said as nicely as he could manage while still observing all the formalities, "Hello. I'm Pesar Ilyas, son of Vizier Faiz. What's your name?" He had been told by someone, though he could not remember who, that in Tariq'ra'd's family, good manners and proper behavior were very important. He assumed, though he wasn't sure, that this cub would know the correct forms of address to follow, even if he didn't quite know what they meant yet, or why they were important. It seemed to Ilyas a very strange way to grow up.

For another moment Mirsajadi continued to stare before he worked out that this was someone who did not live in the den with him and his mother and father and the other lions. This was someone else who did not know who he was. In fact, he was asking who he was. Mirsajadi actually knew how to answer that question, which made him very happy. Almost as happy as it had made him to be walking and to have a goal in mind for his walk. Maybe just as happy. It was a good thing to know, and his mother had taught him and his siblings how to answer that sort of question. He was proud to show off his knowledge, sure that his father would be pleased when he found out how clever his son had been. Puffing up a bit around the chest, Mirsajadi said very carefully. "Hello. I'm Pesar Mirsajadi, son of Vizier Tariq'ra'd and Banu Orah. It's nice to meet you." He understood what all of it meant, more or less, but he didn't know what else to say now.

At first when the small cub had not said anything after several moments Ilyas was afraid that the cubs were too young to speak at all, or maybe even to comprehend. But that didn't seem quite right. After all, the cub was walking, which tended to indicate, Ilyas thought, the ability to speak and understand, too. When at last the younger pesar opened his mouth and began what was very obviously a recitation learned by rote, Ilyas had to suppress a smile. Just as he'd suspected. This really was a weird family. Vizier Tariq'ra'd must be a very odd father. Then, as if his thoughts had summoned him, Ilyas heard the sounds of cubs welcoming their father home and he froze. He'd heard so much about the other vizier, he had decided that he never, ever wanted to meet him, and he didn't think he'd be happy to find some random cub in his home. With a quick nod to Mirsajadi Ilyas pressed himself against the wall and made every effort to be invisible as he escaped.

Mirsajadi watched with his head tilted to one side as the older lion dipped his head in what Mirsajadi knew was a nod, which meant yes, even though no question had been asked. And then, even more confusingly, the blue-eyed lion just turned around and left, walking funny as he did it, with his side against the wall and his head lowered toward the ground, as if he didn't want to be seen. Mirsajadi couldn't understand that, personally. He wanted very much for his father to see him, and since his father had apparently just come home, Mirsajadi put the strange visitor from his mind and began to toddle determinedly toward the entrance to the den. It was lighter in that direction, which he found fascinating, and it was also very busy and full of other, bigger lions. But then he saw his father above all of them and he wanted to get his father's attention and show him how clever he'd been, but he was too small and his father walked past without seeming to see him at all.

In the relative safety of the sunlight outside of the vizier's den Ilyas paused momentarily to catch his breath. He hadn't realized how scary the large black lion was until he'd heard his cubs calling for his attention and then seen his silhouette looming and blocking the sunlight in the den. For that moment he had been filled with horror, even fear, and all he could think of was to get away. Now it was better, and he was ashamed of his behavior, but he was too proud to go back and admit to his folly and flight. Instead he hoped no one would remember he had been there and slunk away, deciding that he could claim to have done his due diligence. After all, he knew the name of at least one of the cubs in the litter and could tell that to his mother and father if they asked. Maybe they wouldn't even ask. That would be wonderful. Of course, he'd need to get to know those cubs someday because of who his father was, but it could wait for another day. Definitely.