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Sandur's sister Kivi had advised him to cultivate some interests that might be more appealing to a proper Stormborn lioness, and while he had been hearing the same thing from just about everyone his entire life, he had never heard anything of the sort from Kivi, who was just about the most loving and accepting lioness Sandur knew. If she thought he was wasting his time with his collections and his studies, he had a hard time convincing himself that it didn't matter. Kivi's opinion mattered.

That was why Sandur had been pushing a rock that just brushed his stomach across the sand of the beach, back and forth, back and forth. He figured the rock was a good enough size that it would help him build muscle to move it, and the sand would make it more challenging by accumulating on the far side as he moved it, as well as having the rock sink. It was a lot harder than he'd imagined it would be when he came up with the idea, though, and Sandur was in need of a break.

For the past two days Näkki had been watching a lion who had old blood markings push a rock across the beach, making wide, somewhat wavering lines where the rock had been. It was, she gathered, some sort of training, although she would have been hard-pressed to say exactly what he thought he was training for. Perhaps he was just trying to build his strength. Or maybe he had lost a bet and was stuck doing the most stunningly boring thing the winner could come up with.

She had been trying to figure out how to approach the lion as he worked and couldn't come up with anything good that wouldn't make her look like a horrible person for not offering to help him (because there was no way she was going to make an offer like that - he might take her up on it, and then she would have to do something resembling work). When Näkki saw him stop and move a short distance away from his rock like he was going to take a break, she saw her chance and moved in, walking down the beach with her most sultry strut.

Sandur caught a glimpse of dark fur coming onto the beach and cringed mentally. He hoped with all of his might that no one had actually observed him pushing a rock about like some half-crazed thrall. He was doing it to build muscle, which was a perfectly respectable excuse that had the benefit of being true, but it didn't change the fact that the thought of someone seeing him do it was enough to make him want to die. Particularly since he was huffing and puffing like he was imitating the season's winds.

"It is a good day to die," he greeted the lioness, doing his best not to gasp as he struck a pose that he fancied made him seem strong and heroic, despite the quivery feeling in his legs and the soreness in his neck. Lions really aren't built for pushing, after all, and he'd been at it for several days.

"I didn't see you before, I'm afraid. Have you been here long?" Please say no. Please say no.

"No, not terribly," Näkki lied. "But from the look of the sand, you have been at this for some time. What are you doing, anyway?"

She was a little disappointed when she heard the lion's voice. He sounded soft-spoken. Soft-spoken lions in this pride didn't tend to be reavers, although some of the captains were pretty well-spoken she had learned, but from his physique Näkki sincerely doubted that she was looking at a captain here. Too bad.

Either way, he obviously had old blood, based on the markings on his back and the color of his mane, and although it probably came from Taraxa's family, she could live with that for the time being. He could be a stepping stone for her. Even though Taraxa and that horrid cow he called his mate were pridal jokes, the reaver's family was very old and there were bound to be distinguished lions in its history.

Well, it wasn't as if he hadn't known that question was coming. Sandur shifted to a more comfortable pose that was still heroic and manly, determined not to let his exhaustion show, particularly not in front of a female. He didn't know this lioness, and she didn't seem to know him, which meant that he could make a good impression on her, even though she wasn't exactly what he would call his "type."

"Well, I was developing my muscles by shifting the rock about. You see, the sand makes it more difficult to move, because the rock will sink and the sand will accumulate, so I'll be pushing not just the weight of the rock, but the weight of the rock and the weight of the sand."

He spoke slowly, in deliberate imitation of the confident near-drawl he heard reavers use when they boasted of their feats of strength and their prowess in battle. It didn't occur to him that he actually spoke like that quite naturally when he was talking about his collections.

Näkki made herself smile. She supposed that made sense, but it still looked moronic. No wonder he did it on this gods-forsaken stretch of beach, where no one could see him.

"That's very clever of you. You must be a very good reaver, with brains and brawn working for you." She did her best to look ingratiating and alluring as she made him an offer, saying, "But, you're probably working much too hard. I could rub you down, work some of the stress from your muscles."

She lowered her eyelids and looked up at him through the slightly longer hairs that passed for eyelashes among lions. Näkki was convinced that this made her look more sexy, and she was also convinced that she gave excellent massages. If she could convince this lion to succumb to one, it would be all to easy to seduce him, and then she would finally be on her way up the pridal ladder.

Sandur took a deep breath, barely able to believe what he was hearing. A lioness was actually admiring him and offering to rub his muscles. That was not something he would have envisioned happening at this point in his life. Maybe later, when he found a girl who appreciated him for who he was, but not now, so soon after his favorite sister had told him he would never catch a girl unless he cultivated some manly pursuits.

"I, well, I thought of it myself, but I'm glad to know it doesn't sound like a completely stupid idea. I know it looks pretty ridiculous, but it is hard work." He knew he should probably stop talking. It was when he talked that the ladies began to back away, he'd observed.

With that in mind, Sandur forced himself to smile and roll his shoulders. "I think that would feel nice. The massage, that is."

Näkki smiled. That was easy enough. She really shouldn't have been surprised, and she wasn't exactly. After all, who turned down a free massage offered by a lioness as lovely as Näkki? No one in their right mind, that's who.

"I'll need you to lay down on the sand...up here where it's softer and warmer," she directed. While he obeyed her and she positioned him to her satisfaction Näkki tried to decide if she would have sex with him today or at a later date. Maybe it would be best to wait and see how the massage turned out.

"My name's Näkki," she said as she moved into position. "What's your name, reaver?"

Näkki thought she might endear herself more easily to him if she called his name in the throes of passion later on.

"I'm Sandur," he told her, making the snap decision not to correct the lioness about his rank within the pride. She seemed to like the idea that he was a reaver, and who was he to disabuse her of the notion?

Instead he relaxed into the lioness's massage. Her ministrations were rough, but they didn't make him feel worse, and it was nice to have someone touching him like that. It made him feel all kinds of good, particularly since he was pretty sure that she was leaning closer than she really needed to, and touching him more intimately than was strictly required. Did she...like him?

"Näkki, would you like to see my den after this?" he asked, feeling a little awkward. He had no idea how to proposition a lioness, but he felt proud of himself for making the attempt.

Where Sandur couldn't see her, Näkki smiled. She was so good at this. A proposal already. Oh, not a proposal of marriage, which was her ultimate goal, but a step in the right direction. Näkki thought she had chosen well with this reaver, even if he was a little unusual.

"Mm...I would like that, Sandur," she purred, moving so that she could rub her cheek along his flank. She did not inhale his scent, preferring not to. He would smell like sand and saltwater and sweat, which was not a combination of smells she found particularly appealing.

"We're done here, I think, so if you'd like to lead the way back to your den..." She trailed off and took a moment to figure out something sexy to say next. "Where I look forward to putting myself beneath your paws."