Sitiri was running around without her usual companion with her. She was looking for some berries, as she had an idea to add them to their next hunting kill and make it taste even better. She had accidentally eaten a sweet berry recently, and she had loved it so much she wanted to find that bush while Oz was busy elsewhere so she could surprise him with it.
She found she was very keen on surprising him, and hopefully in a way that made him happy.
Maybe she felt like she owed him. He was such a nice guy, and he had been helping her learn more about hunting and just surviving on her own. She had the gusto, but not the skills. Now she felt she was gaining both in spades, and it was because he took the time with her. Though she had not met too many other lions, she imagined he was one in a million. The least she could do was get him some berries to make his food sweeter.
She did not even know if he would like it but she was certainly hoping.
Humming to herself, she did not see the large, impossibly large in fact, male lion until he rose up in front of her and fixed her with such a strong, serious glare it brought her to a sudden, jerking dead stop. She dug grooves into the dirt with the force of her skidding, looking up at the lion with wide, surprised eyes. She crouched down but held her ground, growling at him on instinct. And regretting it immediately. The lion just watched her, though, and did not lift a paw against her though he had the right to, certainly.
“Where am I,” he asked with a low, rumbling baritone that sent a shiver down Sitiri’s spine. She was not sure she liked such a tone, though it was silky and authoritative. There was a deep well of power in it, trembling as if barely constrained. What sort of power, however, good or bad was lost on Sitiri. She lacked the knowledge and experience required to be able to judge other lions. Especially one like this, who seemed eternal and ancient all at once, like a King without a throne or a villain from a legend.
Not a hero. She did not get Hero from him.
“I… I don’t…”
“There is no ruler of these lands?”
The large lion watched her with a detached air, barely interested in her existence, much less her presence before him. She was crouching down on the floor, staring up at him, shaking. She had no idea what she had stumbled into, or who he was, but she did not want to find out. Which was fine, as he was not going to share his intentions.
She shook her head meekly.
His reaction betrayed nothing. She had no idea if that had been the right answer or the wrong one. He simply nodded his head and turned his back to her. She saw the marking on his hide. Blue and strange looking, shaped like another predator she had only heard of in stories, a bear. She stared at it before he turned too far for her to see it any more, decorating his thigh as it was, and she looked back up to watch him as he began to walk away.
“Wait!”
She ran after him, mastering her courage.
“I’m gathering berries. Have you seen any? The sweet ones.”
The large male looked at the young female without expression, though his slightly arched eyebrow denoted some interest now. At least he was looking at her like she was there. He shook his head slowly, stopping and letting her cross in front of him.
“I have not. Perhaps you will find them in that patch of trees,” he nodded his large head toward the trees in question, his mane moving like silk in the wind. He had an air of royalty about him, but perhaps not the kind that people liked. A tyrant, she had heard that word once or twice in her life. He would make a good tyrant. Or a bad one? And she was assuming he had not already gone that route. Her head was beginning to spin, with all the stories and histories she was making up about him.
He watched her and a small smirk crossed his features despite himself.
“You are young. Where is your parent, little one?” he asked, and she realized there was no condescension in his tone. She still buckled under the weight of his voice, but she smiled at him feebly and shook her head.
“I’ve been on my own for a while now. I look younger than I am. I’m an adult, like you.”
“Not like me,” he said gravely, his expression falling a bit. He watched her for a long moment, then turned and began to walk toward the trees. She bounced after him, padding next to him but at a safe distance. She still found she did not trust him and did not want to be too near, even if he was talking to her now. He walked her to the trees and bushes nearby, glancing at them curiously, then looking at her. She took up the search, realizing he was helping her find her berries. Kind of. Well, he was more supervising her search, it seemed.
But at least he was not trying to hurt her or something.
“Do you like berries? I thought of adding them to some meat when we make a kill, and it might make it taste nicer? If you want, you can take some. Oh here they are! You were right, they were right here! Thank you so much, mister-“ She poked her head out of the bush again, twigs sticking in her hair, berries smudging her fur. She looked around and realized she was alone. The large lion had gone while she had been distracted, it seemed, and she was alone now. Maybe he had brought her over here to do just that, to get away from her without abruptly walking off or telling her to leave him alone. But why would he do that? He did not seem like the kind of lion who cared about being rude to some stranger.
She frowned, then turned to collect her berries. She would tell Oz all about it.
(Word Count: 1,069 in Word)
