The time had finally come and Brandr was ready to retake his reaver status. That darned homlgang had lost him nearly two years worth of reaving and the dark lion was more than ready to start making up for it. He'd found a captain preparing to take a band out on a small raid, and so Brandr had joined them without much hesitation. Having already been a reaver before, he knew what to expect on a raid and wasn't at all disturbed when the band split up to cover more ground. They were looking for thralls, of course, and Brandr was determined to find one to bring back to the pride. A successful raid was much better than a failed one, after all.
Life was good for the fat, sunbathing leopard. He'd just finished a tasty meal up his favorite tree, and was now catching a mid-day nap on one of his favorite rocks, warmed by the rays of the savannah sun. It was a pleasant life he led, and the leopard was content with it. Though, not much happened to him, he'd certainly being hearing rumors of increasing Stormborn in the area. Hmm. Perhaps a relocation was in order?It was a small band, four members strong including the captain. Once Brandr had thought of becoming a captain himself, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. Now, well he wasn't sure. He was happy to be out a-viking again, and was pleased to be regain his reaver title, but captain was something else all together. His thoughts were interrupted by the scent of a fresh kill, and the large male paused in his step, sweeping his gaze to the horizon. Where there was a fresh kill, there was likely a hunter still lounging about. If he was lucky they would be female.
The wind shifted, a strange scent entered the area, and the leopard merely flicked an ear at it. He wasn't bothering anyone, he'd eaten what he wanted from his kill, and had no intention of starting trouble. Lazily he turned his head in the direction of said scent, resting his chin on his paws as the dark form of a lion appeared. The rumors of Stormborn once again drifted into his mind, but the leopard was oh so comfortable, and not exactly in a mood to run. "Greetings", he called mildly, his tail tapping once against the warm stone he sat upon. No, he did not think he would be running.
Brandr saw the smaller cat resting upon its rock, and also recognized it saw him as well. No need for sneaking then, though his muscles tensed in preparation in case it decided to run upon his approach. The welcome brought a smile on to his maw, the large, brawny lion easily out sizing the leopard. "It's a good day to die", was the reaver's automatic response as he grew closer. His muscles had relaxed by now, as it did not seem like this lesser cat was willing to run, or for that matter put up much of a fight. Perhaps his luck really did change for the best, after all.
The leopard's ears pricked forward at the strange greeting in return, pale eyes curiously watching the stranger. "What a strange way to say hello", he commented with a yawn. Stormborn were suppose to have strange customs such as that. Hmm, curious. Now, he wasn't exactly keen on getting captured, but it seemed his poor judgment had already allowed the lion to come far too close already. Any chance he had of fleeing was indeed fleeting with every step the lion took. "I am not in a fighting mood", the leopard spoke with a sigh, nor did he think he could get away in time to make a run for it. Figures.
"Then don't struggle", was Brandr's advice, smooth and somewhat smug. The last few strides got him to the leopard's rock, where he promptly reached over to grip the smaller thing by the nape of neck and drag it down to the ground at his paws. Upon releasing his grip Brandr continued. "You are now property of the Stormborn, and will serve as a thrall to the pride. Any resistance will be met with harsh punishment, do you understand?" Some of them did not, so his claws slid out from their sheathes, digging into the dirt just in front of the leopards face.
Rather than fight back the leopard allowed himself to be dragged from his rock and set upon the ground. It was not gentle, and he had little doubt the lion could do him harm if he so wished to. It was irritating, to be honest, but he should have run while he had the chance. Now, there was no possible way to escape unscathed and he was stuck. "Yeah, I got ya", was his reply, a wild flash of amusement coloring his tone. He did not like the look of those claws, and would not be entertaining any ideas of fighting back.
At least this one had some sense. Brandr did not mind fighting, in fact it was some of the best fun he'd ever had, but there was little challenge in beating a sub-species almost half his size. "We're to meet up with my band, you'll either follow or I'll drag you there myself", Brandr warned, the tiniest hint of a growl escaping his throat. This one was cooperative, for the time being, but it would not do to show a thrall any sort of compassion. It gave them ideas, and Brandr was ready to return victorious to his band and his pride. "Move", was his final command, and again he growled in warning.
He did what he was told, not much liking the idea of being dragged anywhere. Much like before, the leopard kept himself mild and unthreatening, squashing any idea that popped into his head to either run or fight. He'd not be getting away with either, as the time for running was long past and there was no way he'd be able to fight off such a larger opponent. Resigned to his fate, he moved forward, noting how closely the Stormborn followed behind him. He might have groaned in protest if he did not think it would earn him a strike from those claws, so he stayed quiet. Compliant, really, hoping it would make it that much easier on himself.
(Word Count: 1071)