Katyria was adjusting to life in the ever flourishing pride lands. It was peaceful. Nothing like the cut-throat ways of the Outlands. At times Katyria would mock the Pridelanders in her mind for their trust and almost care-free ways, but then she remembered she was one of them now. In name. Not yet in spirit. Would she ever be?
Her mother had once lived in these lands, but it hadn't been from her that she'd learned of it. In fact, her mother and father never seemed to have much to do with her, or her siblings. At least, not as far as Katyria could remember. Perhaps that made her a bit more bitter than others.
It seemed like a fertile time in the pride. Perhaps it was all the cubs running around that made her think about her mother and her own childhood. She envied those cubs and their loving families. She wanted so much to be a part of one just like that when she was their age. No doubt they took what they had for granted. No doubt they would never know what it felt like to lack the love and support of a good mother and father.
She wanted to be a mother someday. She wanted to give her future children all the love that her mother never gave her. But then again, what did she know of being a mother? So she'd watch from afar the way the mothers treated their young cubs, trying to learn.
It made Katyria feel like a young, curious, juvenile again - watching and learning because no one was there to properly teach her. No one to mentor her... There was a mix of nostalgia, warmth, and envy in the former Outlander who's blue eyes watched a litter of young ones come and pounce their mother who in turn left a gentle lick on their foreheads or cheek. The cubs would squeal and go 'eew' but the mother just chuckled and got up, beckoning to her cubs to follow.
Katyria's ears, once perked, fell, and she laid her chin on the rock on which she was perched and sighed. There they went.
Not wanting to be a total creeper, Katyria didn't follow. No doubt it was feeding time for the cubs. A private matter, she felt. Then they would all settle in for bath and naps.
Katyria had already learned a lot from her observations, but there was one key thing missing. She had no mate. She'd sought the occasional male companionship while a rogue. Nothing had come of it. At least, not that had made its self known. When did you know when you were pregnant? Katyria should probably have asked one of the mothers, but she wanted to avoid any fanfare from the doting lionesses that might have then assumed that she thought that she might be pregnant.
Perhaps it was for the better. What pride lander would she her - a thin, dark, malnutritioned former Outlander and think of her as mate and mother material?
Katyria cursed these burning maternal instincts that reacted to all the wondrous birth around her. She cursed it hard. For despite it all, she doubted she would ever get to bask in such a wonder for herself.
