Ulrika. Was. Pissed.
Not only had she been discovered in her little special meadow, but she had been found by the most annoying, stupid male that she'd ever met in her life. Bah. After she'd left him in the meadow, she'd torn back to the pride. If he'd followed her, she hadn't caught sight of him yet, nor had she heard anything about a daft lion lurking out around the boundaries of the pride.
At first she'd planned on forcing (read: sweetly convincing) her half-brother Tyr into going out to the meadow so that he could frighten the stupid male away. After much contemplating, she'd decided that she would send daddy dearest out to defend her honor. Well, scare him off, really. She had no interest in keeping a male at this moment in her life, and certainly not a stupid, fluff-brained male that she didn't even know -- he wasn't even Stormborn!!
She found her father sunning himself in a secluded corner. She shook her head fondly as she approached. Much as she loved her father, Taraxa was getting older and softer. In his glory days he'd been something of a ladies' man (as made obvious by his many, many children), and now he was lazy and more than slightly ... heftier. Still, Ulrika loved her papa and would do anything for the lion.
"Papa," she whispered, not wanting to wake him too quickly. Once before she'd done such a thing and he'd taken a few moments to calm down.
"Papa," this time more forcefully.
"Hmmmrrghhmm?" He smacked his lips together, blinking his eyes blearily.
"Papa. Wake up. This is serious."
"Ulrika," he beamed at his daughter. She was such a beautiful lioness. All of his children had turned out quite pleasing to the eyes. "Daughter, what troubles you?" He couldn't wait to hear. Sigh.
"Papa, today I was out gathering supplies and I was happened upon by an intruder." That sounded decently spoken, maybe it would make him furious.
No such luck. "Ulrika, did you take a guard with you? One of the Reavers?" His tone inferred that he knew she did not, but he would shame her by asking. She knew better, she did. As a Priestess of the Stormborn, it was important for her to be protected. As Taraxa's daughter, he demanded it.
"No," she said, recalcitrant. Those dual-hued eyes of hers narrowed at her father.
He hated it when she did that. He did it right back.
"Daughter, my sweet Ulrika," he began. That was as far as he got until he was rudely interrupted.
"Won't you defend my honor?!" Her voice was shrill, unnaturally so, but she couldn't help it. Being the pampered doll that she was, never in her life had another lion spoken to her so frankly. What bothered her more was the fact that she could not erase the dark-haired male from her mind. Those vibrant green eyes, the unabashed way that he'd admired her form... she had been thrilled by it, though she would never admit such a thing to anyone else.
Taraxa looked stunned for a moment, falling into silence. Her honor? His brows twitched. Had she been... had she been compromised?!
"D-defend your honor?!" Taraxa fairly spat the words. "Did he sully you?! DID HE... DID HE FORCE HIMSELF?!"
Ulrika narrowed her eyes again. Her papa, as much as she loved him, was so stupid sometimes. She shook her head.
"That isn't the point I'm trying to make, papa! I was approached by a stranger," she paused for effect, "in our territory," she groused, fudging the truth -- technically she'd been outside of the pride's borders, but her father didn't need to know that. She wasn't even sure what she was trying to accomplish by forcing her father to go out there in search of the male. Ulrika scowled. Darkly.
This was so annoying. Her FATHER was so annoying sometimes. He was getting older, maybe that's what caused his absentmindedness at times, Ulrika didn't know. What she did know was that she'd been out gathering supplies when she'd been approached by a stranger who did not belong in the pride (or that close to their territory for that matter), and her fluff-brained father wasn't taking the initiative to do ANYTHING about it!
"Maybe if I go talk to Gunnar about it," she paused, knowing how her father would take her next words, "HE WOULD DO SOMETHING!!!"
Taraxa loved being a father. He really did. Honor, glory, ...and constant headaches. His daughters were constantly exchanging bitter words with one another, his son, Tyr ... was such a sissy. Taraxa would never admit to such a thing, but the truth of the matter was that Tyr couldn't harm a fly. Ingmar was as blasted pink as his mother, and all of his offspring had gotten a little bit sassier ever since their aunt had shown up. In fact, it was thanks to Tazira that Taraxa had realized that Nymph's litter had been his cubs.
Shaking the errant thoughts from his mind, Taraxa gave a defeated sigh and slouched his shoulders.
"Fine."
"Fine what?"
"Fine, I'll go... defend your honor." The last was said with reluctance, as if he'd rather spend the hours here in his little sunbeam waiting for supper to come around. His body was getting lax and he was packing on weight, but he was still as strong and active as he had been when he was a youth.
Or so he told himself.
"Don't sound so excited about it," Ulrika groused in dire tones, "as my loving father you should be outraged that I was put in such a position."
"Daughter," Taraxa said with as much patience as he could muster, "if you had only taken a guard out with you... I know Halvar would have gone willingly." He grinned. "I think the boy is fond of you, girl."
Ulrika scoffed quietly. Of course he was fond of her. She was lovely and talented, was she not?
"I'll see you when you get back, father dearest."
Taraxa gave a hearty sigh as he rose to his paws. Oh, the things he did for the sake of his family.
(wc: 1031)
