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Five sons. Five. Sons! It was a wealth of good fortune Ilyas had hardly dared to hope for when he learned that his beybanu was carrying his cubs. He had simply been overjoyed when it became apparent, and had not given a thought to how many cubs he and Afsar might have, or what their genders might be. His only thought was how happy he was to have been able to put cubs into his love and thereby secure not only his lineage, but demonstrate their bond. He had even managed to ensure that she would be the first lioness to bear his children.

And now he had five sons. He simply could not get over that bounty. Every time he thought about it - which was frequently, given how much space five cubs took up in the den - a smile crossed his face and spoiled any attempt he might have been making at somberness or sobriety. Not that he had made many such attempts recently. Both Afsar and Elsa knew how happy he was with his lot and they seemed to share in his delight.

Right now, though, they were sharing other things - a moment of repose while Ilyas watched the cubs. Five was a lot to keep up with, after all.

Ram, or Ramliya, or A'asifa Ramliya, depending on how long he wanted to take saying his own name, was stalking prey. It was one of his favorite games, even though he knew that in real life it was the banu of the pride who did most of the hunting and capturing of food. Mostly he enjoyed the game because it meant he got to pounce on people when they were unsuspecting. It was fun to hear them squeak in surprise. And sometimes, particularly when he pounced his brothers, they could get into a good tussle. Ram liked those, too.

He watched Harith's tail tuft out of the corner of his eyes, doing his very best to appear nonchalant and like he wasn't preparing to spring at any moment to land on his brother. No, of course not. He was just crouching there, doing nothing. It was all completely innocent, of course. Probably he was fooling no one, but it wasn't important to him to fool people. He didn't think Harith was paying attention anyway, so he didn't have to fool him.

There was Father, though. How would he react? Ram's gaze darted over to Ilyas and he decided his father wouldn't mind. Maybe he'd even be impressed by his son's prowess.

The dark pad noticed that one of his sons seemed to be paying an inordinate amount of attention to the tail of another of his cubs and it crossed his mind that he might point the danger out to Harith. After all, it wasn't really very fair that he be taken completely unaware by Ram when he decided to make his attack. On the other paw, Ilyas wasn't the sort to coddle his sons, no matter how proud he was of them, or how much he loved them. They would not grow stronger or more canny if he warned them of every danger before they spotted them for themselves.

He did catch Ram's eyes, though, holding his gaze for a moment of silent acknowledgment. He was not telling his son, even tacitly, not to make his attack. All he was doing was letting the tawny striped pesar that he knew what he was doing. There might be a hint of chastisement for not being sufficiently sneaky and stealthy in the gaze. Even so, it was obvious, or should have been obvious, that Ilyas was not going to stop his son, or get involved more than he had done already. This was something for them to work out.

In his own youth Ilyas and his younger brother had quarreled a great deal. There had been a reason, and a good one, but eventually it came to the point where intervention had been required, for their competition had turned into a rivalry. Ilyas thought he had come out a better lion for it, but he did not want his cubs to feel the same animosity toward each other that he felt toward his brother. Not if he could help it. So he watched carefully.

His father's gaze made Ram freeze. He had not been moving a great deal anyway, being engaged in the act of trying to gather all his strength into his muscles in preparation for springing, but now he froze. He met his father's blue-eyed stare and held it without defiance. He didn't think there was anything for him to defy in the gaze. He was actually trying to make sure his father was watching, and ready to be impressed by how wonderful he was about to be.

His muscles began to quiver and he knew he couldn't hold himself tense like that any longer, and so Ram looked away from Ilyas and turned his attention back to Harith's oh-so-tempting tail, which seemed to be beckoning him to come closer. He would come closer. Indeed, he would leap forward and be very close, probably closer than Harith would have liked. And his father would be impressed and praise him.

He sprang forward, his paws outstretched in front of him but his claws retracted. He didn't want to dismember his sibling, after all. Just pin his tail and make it clear that he was the best of the litter. It wasn't easy to prove that sort of thing in a litter of five healthy young pesars and Ram was very aware of the pressure that put on him to be extraordinary.

Harith seemed fully absorbed in the task of cleaning his paws, Ilyas observed. Ilyas, himself, didn't care to have dirt and mud caked into his fur, but he couldn't remember caring too terribly much about it as a cub. But then, there was probably a lot about his cubhood that he didn't remember, or didn't remember accurately. No doubt the interest in cleanliness came from one of Ilyas' banu. Probably Elsa, he thought, since Afsar had always been something of a tomboy herself.

He nearly laughed aloud when Harith's efforts went to the little tuft of mane at the top of his head, since it came at the same moment as Ramliya's pounce. It seemed that poor Harith was unlikely to have much success in his grooming routine, which was a bit of a shame, Ilyas supposed, but at the same time it was better for him to get experience in tussling with his brothers, Ilyas felt. He wasn't as much of a prig as some viziers' sons he knew, but Ilyas was conscious of how his family presented itself, and it was important to him that his sons come across as strong and masculine. Cleanliness and good-grooming were banu matters.

It pleased Ilyas, therefore, to see Harith turn around and make ready to give back as good as he got. Ilyas didn't actually have any favorites among his sons. There were five of them, after all, and they were too young for their personalities to have developed fully. He would not know until later which he got along best with, and which would always be challenging him and his authority. So he had no difficulty cheering them on equally in his head. He kept his approval to himself, however, because even if he did someday develop a favorite, he didn't wish to create rivalries among his offspring.

Ram was pleased with the unexpected side effect of pinning his brother's tail to the ground: it meant that Harith couldn't immediately retaliate for being pounced on. Not that the respite lasted for long, since they were both cubs and possessed a nearly preternatural flexibility which was made effortless by their minds' ignorance of the physical impossibility of their actions. So he was neither surprised nor disappointed when Harith attempted to dislodge him. In truth, he would have been disappointed if Harith hadn't tried something of the sort.

"You look ridiculous!" Ram exclaimed as he noted his brother's mussed hair. The tongue stuck out just made it worse. "Your face looks even worse than usual."

Well, he was a young boy. Insulting siblings' looks was all part and parcel of the whole "being related" thing. Creative insults were lots of fun to come up with, in Ram's opinion, and he almost never got to use them when their mother or Banu Elsa was watching him and his siblings. They always got on him about good manners, but Ram didn't think their father would care too much. Especially if he restricted himself to mild ones. After all, he wasn't trying to scar anyone's psyche (and probably couldn't if he tried).

Ilyas might have raised his eyebrows in an amused expression, had he been human. Hearing his sons bicker in a friendly manner gladdened him. He thought it was good that they were able to solve their conflicts between themselves, and without requiring adult intervention. Of course, this was not a major conflict, but so far nothing unforgivable had been said or done, and Ilyas couldn't help being pleased about that. It would have broken his heard if his new family destroyed itself so soon after its inception.

Therefore, while another parent might have interceded and reminded the boys that it wasn't nice or polite to insult each other or call each other names, Ilyas allowed their posturing to continue, as well as their play-fighting. Hunting was the work of banu in the Ukuucha'Wafalme, but they were not warriors. The role of defender was a masculine one, and so it was well that his sons were naturally inclined to explore it. It would serve them well when they went out to find their banu in the rogue lands, too, possibly. He had not had to fight during his time there, but others had, he knew.

He looked away almost deliberately, allowing the cubs to continue what they were doing without fear of parental disapproval.

Ram wasn't the least bothered by Harith's insult. For one thing, it would have taken a lot to convince the young pesar that he was not a perfect specimen of all that a pesar should be, and Harith's insult was hardly of a quality to give him pause or reason for doubt. He responded with a cocksure grin which made it clear how little he was bothered by Harith's remark about puddles and tried to come up with something clever to say as a retort.

"I'll show you puddles. I'll dunk you in one!"

He shifted to look around for a handy puddle with which he could carry out his threat, thoughtlessly removing about a third of his weight from his brother as he searched. It was not a long search, since there were no puddles within line of sight, but Harith might have had time to wiggle free.

The unmistakable sound of a cub's face coming into contact with the ground at a greater velocity than a cub's face ought to ever meet the ground made Ilyas' head whip around. His blue eyes immediately came to focus on Harith, looking him over critically for signs of blood or tears or anything like that. He was proud to note that there seemed to be no sign of either, despite the unsettling sound he'd heard. Just the same, a reminder might be in order. He knew Afsar would be unhappy with him if she came home to find the cubs all bruised and broken.

"No deaths, please," he said mildly. "Or maimings, or even scarring. I would like to return you all to your mother with all your parts intact."

As warnings went, it was certainly nowhere near as severe as he might have given, but he wasn't like that crazy lion Tariq'ra'd, who was apparently a terror to everyone around him, including his family. Ilyas strove to be more like his father, who he believed to be a far better example of fatherhood, though he had recently found cause to question that upon learning that Faiz had agreed to let one of Tariq'ra'd's sons take Arezoo as his beybanu. Ilyas wasn't sure the title of beybanu would save her from abuse if anyone in that crazy family lost it around her.

"And, for that matter," he added, "you should leave the puddles out of it. I doubt your mother or Elsa will enjoy having to clean puddle water off of you."

Ram had been about to take advantage of his brother's lost balance, seeing it as the only sensible thing to do, given the situation, but then his father's head whipped around and the young pesar got the distinct impression that it would not be a good idea to pursue that advantage, no matter how tempting it was. Besides, he told himself to salve his frustrated instinct to pounce, it wasn't very honorable to attack someone when they were down. Even if they were being mildly insulting. It wasn't as though Ram hadn't invited it.

"All right," he said dutifully. "No broken bones or anything like that."

That was all the attention he was prepared to pay his father, too, since Harith had proven he was clearly well enough to speak, despite the hard knock he'd given himself, which meant he was well enough to fight, too. However, it seemed their father wasn't done limiting their fun. Ram received his latest restriction with a long-suffering sigh.

"Geez. I'm just going to go take a nap, then. That way I won't get hurt or dirty." He stalked off into the den, making sure anyone who happened to be watching could tell how disgusted he was with the whole affair.