[SRP] One of us. One of us. (Aesir, Ru & Kazul)

[Princess_Feylin]

Aesir

Not particularly busy, Aesir had been sparring with a Reaver approximately his own size and age, but nowhere near his ability. It was a disappointment to him, really. A Reaver with as much muscle and experience as Aesir had ought to have been able to give the Warlord a good fight, but this one seemed unable to do that. It had put the Warlord in a somewhat foul mood, and so when one of Gunnar's viking-born sons came to fetch him with the news that a lion had just won his challenge, Aesir had allowed himself an irritated snarl. Were none of the Stormborn capable of a good fight anymore?

He nodded curtly to Lucivar - he thought that was the cub's name - and went to meet the newest Freeborn. He hoped as he walked that at least the lion would prove to be large and fierce, or else Lucivar deserved to be the object of some scorn and derision. He was a Stormborn, even if he was viking-born, and that meant he ought to have won his battle. If he hadn't thought he would be able to do that, Aesir would not have suggested that his name be inserted in the rotation for guard duty.

Kazul

Kazul liked to watch her father fight. She thought it was just amazing, the way he moved and how powerful all his strikes were, even when he was deliberately softening his blows, as with sparring. Not that he and his opponents often did that. She had quickly grown used to the sight of her father's blood, and had even seen him lose a fight now and then, but by and large she remained convinced that her father was the pride's finest fighter and she was very proud that he was also her father.

It was a relief to her, though, when Lucivar came and interrupted her father's sparring, because she could tell that he was losing his patience with his partner, who was very obviously not skilled enough to challenge him. His blows were falling harder and his claws were mostly unsheathed. His opponent would have gotten hurt if Lucivar hadn't come along bringing a tale of his own defeat. That actually amused her, given how hard she knew the older lion trained to be a great fighter. She followed her father because she wanted to see the lion who had beaten Lucivar.

Ruzanski

Ruzanski waited, his wounds throbbing. He had been told that he ought to see the Warlord before he saw the healers, which was fine with him. He'd never needed a healer before and he didn't think he really needed one now, even if he was bleeding a great deal and was in lots of pain. Pain would pass and his wounds would either kill him or they wouldn't.

The Warlord, he understood, was the leader of the pride, and so he must make a good impression on him. He wished he knew how to go about doing that, because he honestly didn't know what would be valued by the leader of the Stormborn. Courage, fighting ability, and what else? How was he even supposed to greet him? He mentally cursed his mother for instilling so many sets of manners in him that he was nearly crippled with indecision as to which to use.

As he waited a large, dark figure wearing furs and other items approached. He carried himself with so much innate self-confidence and arrogance that Ru had no doubt he was watching the approach of the Warlord. He made himself stand still and tall, even though his shoulders screamed protest, and raised his green eyes to meet the Warlord's amber ones.

 

[Princess_Feylin]

Aesir

An adolescent. A small adolescent. That was the lion Lucivar had lost to? There passed a moment where it would have been difficult to tell whether the Warlord was angry or amused by this discovery. Hadn't the young Freeborn said something about the fight being a draw in the end? That was somewhat less unfortunate, Aesir supposed. And maybe the adolescent he was looking at was more impressive than the impression given by his size alone.

When he was closer, able to make out more specific details, Aesir saw that the adolescent's dark coat was wet with blood which came from wounds on his shoulders and bled down his forelimbs almost to his paws. There were a few shallower gashes along his sides, too. Despite this, he carried himself upright and his eyes were bold when he looked on his Warlord. Aesir could not disapprove of that.

"I'm told you fought and earned the right to call yourself a Stormborn," Aesir began. "An impressive feat, even against a youthful opponent."

Aesir had won his challenge as an adolescent, too, and it had been against an adult Reaver, but this wasn't the time to mention it. He wasn't competing against this lion for anything. Not yet anyway. Perhaps when he grew a little more he might be able to be a decent sparring partner at least.

Kazul

Like her father, Kazul was amused to see that the newest Stormborn was an adolescent smaller than Lucivar, though larger than herself. He looked like he had been bleeding considerably more than Lucivar was, but perhaps his wounds were less severe than they looked. Whether that was the case or not, she couldn't help being concerned for him because they did look nasty and painful. She found herself impressed by how he seemed to ignore them to look her father in the eye.

She couldn't tell what color his eyes were, and she supposed it didn't matter one way or the other, but she was curious. Satisfying her curiosity would mean that she would have to come down from the perch she'd scrambled onto as she followed her da, and she liked the view from her perch. She could see everything, if not in perfect detail, and almost no one looked up, so no one would notice her up there.

Her father's mood seemed to have improved. She guessed he was as amused by Lucivar's challenger as she was, and that was what had made him more pleasant as he spoke to the new lion. She wished he'd ask for his name already though. One of the disadvantages to being a voyeuse was that she couldn't dictate the way conversation went and had to rely on others to produce unprompted the bits of information she wanted to hear.

Ruzanski

Ru could hardly believe how large the lion before him was. He'd never seen a lion that size in his life, even as he and Lucivar had made their way through the pride, none of the other lions seemed so large. Perhaps it was the pelt he wore over his shoulders though, creating an illusion of size. That and his nearly overwhelming aura. Ru felt an inclination to play games with the older, larger lion, to push him and antagonize him. He quashed it firmly.

"We fought to a draw," Ru said. He didn't know what the Warlord had been told, but in case this was some sort of test of his honesty, he wasn't going to chance it with a lie by omission. Besides, he was generally an honest lion anyway who preferred to be upfront about things rather than play stupid games of coyness. "Lucivar was not an easy opponent."

He fell silent then. He didn't know what else he was expected to say and was trying to take his cue from the Warlord. From the corner of his eyes he was aware that people were watching this meeting, either obviously or surreptitiously, but the one who most caught his attention was a green-coated juvenile perched on a rock formation that might have been part of someone's den. He didn't turn to look at her, but he was more aware of her than he was of any of the rest of their audience for some reason.

 

[Princess_Feylin]

Aesir

Honest, Aesir observed to himself, but not much of a storyteller. Lucivar had been full of details that the Warlord had more or less tuned out because they weren't important. He'd probably hear them later anyway, once someone saw fit to tell the new Freeborn that most lions told the story of their áskorun with pride and a flourish. They were usually asked to recount it at the first feast they attended, and often it was a joint effort between them and the lion they had beaten, which gave them sort of on-the-spot training in storytelling as a Stormborn.

"He's trained most of his life to make sure of that. It looks like he'll have to work harder." Someone who didn't know him probably wouldn't realize that his words were actually spoken with humor and amusement, and didn't actually imply any sort of insult toward the young lion standing before him.

"And what about you? Who are you and where have you come to us from?" He was a little bit curious about this, since there were not too many adolescents who challenged for Freeborn status successfully, and even fewer who managed it on their first attempt, which he was given to understand this was. Perhaps he had been born to a warrior family and they had trained him since his youth.

Kazul

Ah, Stormlords' balls, Kazul thought. Enough of the silly distributing of credit. Everyone knew the Stormborn were mighty fighters and obviously this new Freeborn had some skill, too, or he wouldn't be standing here, bleeding onto his paws. When would they get to the interesting parts, where she would find out who he was and where he came from.

Kazul was curious about the world outside of the pride, something that her friendship with her viking-born half-brother Odd had begun, coming to the pride from outside it as he had with talk of spirits that were different from the spirits her ma had taught her about. Her curiosity was one of the reasons she wanted to be a Reaver when she grew up. It was one of the only ways a Stormborn left the stronghold.

Ah, finally! Her father asked the questions she wanted answers to. She leaned forward, inching perilously close to the edge of her perch but feeling no concern that she would fall. She never fell, and she wanted to hear everything he said. The way he spoke was different and interesting, and she thought she rather liked his accent.

Ruzanski

Ru grinned at the Warlord's assessment of Lucivar's skills. He would have been inclined to agree with him, actually. In battle it didn't matter what excuses you gave. If you weren't good enough, you were cut down. Not that there'd been much cutting down in this instance, but in general that was how things worked. He knew he also had to train harder, too. He was looking forward to that.

"My name is Ruzanski," he said. "I've lived as a rogue for most of my life, looking after my family until recently."

He did not go into details about why he was no longer looking after his family. Even now it was still raw and painful to think of how he had failed his sisters. But he was working to avenge them. He had been ever since they were murdered, and this was an enormously important step in the right direction.

He spared a quick glance toward the younger lion whose movement toward the edge of her vantage point had once more caught his attention. He wondered who she was, and why she was taking so much interest in the proceedings. Well, everyone present seemed to be taking some sort of interest, but they were less obvious about it. Probably she wouldn't have considered her actions obvious, though. He doubted many would have noticed her there at all.

 

[Princess_Feylin]

Aesir

"Be welcome, Ruzanski," Aesir said. There were probably more formal ritualized words he could speak, but he wasn't actually a hugely formal sort of Warlord, and while he took a certain pleasure in using uniquely Stormborn expressions he didn't see the point in drawing out some sort of welcome ritual when the lion in front of him was bleeding and had to be in more pain than he was letting on. To his credit, he wasn't letting on very much at all, which meant he was definitely in more pain than he appeared to be.

He followed the Freeborn's gaze, looking up and back over his shoulder to see one of his trueborn cubs perched atop someone's den, watching and listening. She did that a lot, his dragon child. It was easy to forget she was even there sometimes, when she went still and quiet. Or when she did things like perch above everyone's head. It wasn't a leonine trait to look up. What enemies were there that came from above?

"Kazul, come down here," he called. "Meet our newest Freeborn properly."

He looked back and Ru and explained that she was one of his daughters while she made her way to them. He was proud of the ease with which she moved and the grace in her carriage. It was something she must have learned from her mother, since he had more of a tendency to swagger. When she was older, he had no doubt she'd be a heart-breaker, and the prospect amused him. She was fierce enough to give any boy a good fight if he tried anything.

Kazul

Ruzanski was his name. That name sounded almost like it belonged in the Stormborn already. Had he been viking-born like her half-siblings? Probably not. He was too small, and how would his mother have known to give him a proper Stormborn name anyway? It must have simply been coincidence, him being a rogue and all. Nevertheless it intrigued her, for Kazul was naturally interested in names and things like this were definitely unusual enough to capture her interest.

There was something her da didn't remark on, but Kazul would have in his position. He had said he had looked after his family until recently, which implied something had changed. She wondered what that was. Of course, the term Freeborn meant that a lion was sort of reborn into the pride, and their past only mattered if they wanted it to, but that didn't stop her from being curious about it. She didn't doubt there was a story there.

Being spotted suddenly and called down to meet Ruzanski startled Kazul, who was accustomed to passing unseen most of the time unless she went out of her way to be outstanding. She made a inquiring face at her da, but she slipped from her perch and made her way to his side, refusing to look undignified by hurrying. She was glad he'd called her over though. Now she would get a good look at him. Even as she walked she attempted to that, though surreptitiously.

When she reached her father's side she stopped and then made her study of him obvious. She could smell his blood all too easily, and it was a little distracting, but she was also aware of how well-formed he actually was, and then she was taken aback by the color and intensity of his eyes as he looked at her. He had actually seen her. That was...unexpected.

Ruzanski

"Thank you, sir," Ru replied. He wasn't sure if he'd used the correct form of address, but it seemed a safe enough title to give the Warlord. He supposed he might also have just called him Warlord, but that felt a little awkward. Warlord was a position one held, and so it would be like calling a king "king" instead of "your majesty."

Both he and the Warlord watched the young lioness make her way confidently down from her perch and then position herself at her father's side. She moved with the same sort of carriage that had come so easily to Ru's mother, even though she was younger than Ru himself. There were undeniable physical similarities between the two Stormborn. The wing markings, the striping on her tail and face and limbs, the color of their eyes. No one would ever thing she was someone else's daughter after seeing the Warlord.

Like her father, she exuded an aura of confidence and pride in herself that bordered on arrogance, but unlike her father she angled her face a little away from his to look at him. He wondered if there was a reason she wouldn't look him directly in the face, or if she was simply shy. Still, her appraisal of him was obvious in her look, even if she didn't meet his eyes or look directly at him.

 

[Princess_Feylin]

Aesir

He called him sir. Well, so did other lions in the pride, though the title didn't sit well with Aesir. He preferred to be called Warlord or simply by his name. Sir seemed to him a little excessive, like someone trying to win him over by being too polite. Aesir shrugged mentally. He was new. He would learn.

"Kazul, this is Ruzanski, a new Freeborn." Aesir said to his daughter after giving her time to take in the young adolescent he'd just introduced.

He didn't wonder what she made of the dark-coated lion. He had no doubt she'd express her opinions later that evening when the family gathered together in the den. He had formed his own opinion of the green-eyed Freeborn, and they were not unfavorable. His pride and his determination were obvious and were marks in his favor.

"I want you to take him to the healers before he leaves a permanent stain on the ground here."

Kazul

Kazul smirked when the new lion called her father sir. It was a title he didn't care for because it made him uncomfortable, and yet he still had to bear it because it was neither incorrect nor disrespectful. Her father was her favorite lion and she loved him unconditionally, but she couldn't help but be amused by his discomfort now and again.

"Ruzanski," she said, tasting the name before echoing her father's words from earlier. "Be welcome."

She could feel both her father's attention and Ruzanski's on her, but she wasn't bothered by it. She spent a lot of time being overlooked, and so when she was the center of attention she enjoyed it. And more imprtantly the attention on her was from her da and also from this new Freeborn who was undeniably good-looking. She was just reaching an age where she truly began to notice things like that.

"All right, da," she said, grinning up at him. Then she turned back to Ruzanski and jerked her head in the direction of the healers. "This way."

Ruzanski

"Thank you," he said again, this time to Kazul, who still didn't look straight at him, but smirked and grinned as if at her own private joke.

He was relieved, a little, that the audience appeared to be over, and he would be able to have his wounds tended. It would be pretty wonderful not to have to tend his own injuries, given his limited knowledge of the subject, most of which had been acquired through trial and error. He just had to get there, and the girl Kazul would lead him.

As he nodded once more to the Warlord and set off in Kazul's wake he wondered if she would say anything or if she was simply going to lead him to their destination and leave him there. He wasn't going to be the first to initiate conversation, however, and if she wished the walk to take place in silence he would let her have her silence.

Instead of talking he watched and looked around the pride. The lions here were larger, they spoke with a bit of a growl always that seemed to have nothing to do with their mood. Many of them bore scars like the ones he would carry from the fight which had made him one of their number. They were warriors, and he would learn from them and make a life among them, and one day he would die fighting beside them.