

It had been mere months since the un-Firekin had roamed across the savanna. Hearing whispers of a distant mountaintop pride, ripe for the picking had sent him scurrying off to join. He'd partnered for a time with the would-be-queen, and the plans for their bid for power had been laid before they even came to the winding mountain pass that had forever cut him off from the lands he'd known all his life. Or so he'd thought.
Before their move could be made, a great earthquake had shook the land. One side of the mountain that made up the bowl their pride had inhabited had crumbled. Many lions had been killed in the avalance of stone and snow, and those remaining had been scattered and stranded on the drifts. He had shortly found himself down the mountain, and alone. Bereft of his partner in crime, and unsure even that she lived, he began to plan anew.
When he spoke true to himself, he knew that the land of snow and stone and ice had not been for him. His parents, when he had been with them, had told him of his noble origins in the deserts of Africa. He was a Firekin, if not in name, in blood, and born of two exiles from the so-named pride. Deception had not come hard to him, and he had felt no guilt at the time. There was nothing wrong with pushing the weaker of his kind aside to gain his own power. Still, he did not think he would try such a thing again. It had been too much trouble, and resulted in nothing (though he could never know if it would have worked had the earthquake not destroyed the pride.)
For now he was simply glad to be back in the wide open plains where he belonged. His young spirit bolstered, and with a little whoop, he let his guard drop, taking off at a run, just to feel the earth under his paws and the wind in his mane. It was a glorious feeling, to be told. He breathed deep, filling his lungs as he surged through the long grass, startling birds and beasts alike as he went by in a flash of orange and white.
One beast however did not run from him, but rather, when she leapt up, she fell in beside him. Sleek and blue, she was a sharp counterpart to his bulky frame. She came up behind him, then alongside, and surged ahead with speed only common to a cheetah. Though the lion had never truly considered the other feline species, he admittedly was impressed with that kind of raw haste. He sucked in a breath and roared, the sound filling the air. It was a noise of pure joy in the exercise of running, and he was pleased to hear the cheetah respond with a yowling snarl of its own.
For a time the pair ran together, always the lion chasing the cheetah. For short bursts the blue cat would surge ahead so far and fast that 'Bega again and again thought it meant to leave him behind. Always though the distance between would shrink as the speed demon tired and slower to match his pace. On one such occasion an idea came to the lion's mind, and with a burst of speed he leapt, flying through the air, and tackled the cheetah playfully, if none too gently.
"Got you at last!" He pretended to snarl, standing over his 'prey'. "You're a pretty fast guy, I'll give you that! But thin as a rail. And I'm sure your mother told you what happens to cheetahs that get caught by hungry lions!" He did a fair job of sounding fierce and like he meant it, and he cuffed the cowering figure over onto their back with a laugh. "Hey now! I'm just kiddi-OOF!"
A swift cuff to the face caught him off guard. Sure, it hadn't been nearly hard enough to knock him off the cheetah, or even hurt, but he hadn't expected it. "What's the deal?" He snarled, glaring down at him...er...her. Whoops.
"You make it a habit of tackling strange ladies into the dirt and putting your paws all over them, hmm?" Her voice was surprisingly quiet, and somehow he got the feeling that this sort of sternness from her was unusual. Still standing over her, his look of shock shifted to a smirk. He bent down, his face just inches from hers. Plainly uncertain what to think, she pressed back into the long grass. How long had it been since he'd felt female company? His queen-to-be had refused to let him until the throne was theirs. He'd never even considered a cheetah before, let alone tried one...
"And what if I do...?" His smirk became a grin, teeth glinting. Still, he would not force the female. He was better than that. After a long moment that must have made hear heart race faster than her paws had moments before, he stepped off of her, allowing her to rise and s hake the dirt from her fur. She fixed him with a glare, but didn't go running. Deciding then that he would seduce the cheetah, he circled her, looking her over from tip to tail. So small. So thin. Nothing like a lioness. He was large even for lion standards, and dwarfed her easily. Something about the contrast of her sleek thin limbs and his strong thick ones made his already racing blood burn hotter. It had been so long since he'd had a female...
“Such a delicate, dainty, lovely thing you are,” He purred. “Do forgive my rudeness. At first I thought you were a male, but then your beauty overwhelmed me. I can't say what came over me...Surely you can forgive me that, yes?” He leaned in close, fixing her blue eyes with his. His smile was disarming, and he sensed the moment she started to believe him and relax. Yes...she was his already, she just didn't know it. “Let me catch you dinner to make it up to you? It's the least I can do...?” His pause made plain that he wanted her name. Though not out of chivalry, as he hoped to convince her...more so that he would have a name for his conquest, once made.
The cheetah, even younger than he, was swiftly wooed by his change of attitude. Her interactions with lions had been few, and most had chased her off their land, snarling threats. This lion was still unnerving...but charming too, in a way. “Theluli,” She finally admitted.
With a smirk, Bega nodded. That'd do. For a start.
(Words: 1117)