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Being the only boy among a bunch of girls was exhausting, so Freyr volunteered to run errands and deliver messages whenever the need arose, or even made up excuses to go looking for people, like his father, even though Galning actually spent a great deal of time with Freyr and his sisters. Any excuse to get away from females that filled the den.

He wasn't a very good messenger, in fact. When he was out and about in the pride Freyr got into everything and dallied and took absolutely forever to return home. Sometimes he even forgot the purpose of his trip altogether. His mother never got angry at him for it though, at least not much. She probably understood his need to get away sometimes.

Today was one of those days where he had forgotten his purpose and instead become distracted watching the reavers on the sands. That was one of the most distracting things for the young cub.

Shallan had been on the sands practically since the sun came up, watching as reavers trickled in and paired up to practice their fighting skills. Her mother had not wanted her to go there too young, but enough pestering had finally gotten Shallan her way. She was allowed to go and watch, after promising on her name that she would not get in the way or fight with anyone.

"Ja, ja, ja," she had assured her mother as she skittered out of the den, paying absolutely no mind to the promises she was making it didn't matter.

And the sands were as glorious as Shallan had hoped they would be. All of those reavers in the peak of fitness, moving with such confidence. The shapes they made were just beautiful. She wanted to drink in the sight and never, ever look away. If only there was some way she could preserve the view.

Her sharp eyes picked out a smaller figure amongst the older lions and curiosity pricked at her heels. She had to investigate.

Freyr was completely distracted watching the reavers, and thus he failed to notice the red-haired lioness approaching him until she came upon him and greeted him with a chipper, "It is a good day to die!"

He didn't even think about his response, replying with rote agreement without taking his eyes off the fighting in front of him. His father was a mighty warrior, and he was proud of that, but Freyr intended to be greater than his father. He wanted to learn all there was of fighting and then become the youngest warlord ever. According to Freyr's plan, his reign would last for many years and be known as a golden era for the pride.

"So what do you think?" he asked. His eyes were still fixed on the fight. Two lions whose coats were shades of grey and brown tore into each other with half-bared claws, throwing up sprays of sand as they pivoted and whirled around one another. It was glorious.

Shallan was not quite as transfixed by the fight as the cub she had approached, but she had been brought up to be polite, and that meant looking at someone when you spoke to them, so she had to keep looking away from the nearest fighting pair. It was a mighty sacrifice, because that pair was absolutely stunning to watch.

"I think a lot of things," she quipped automatically. It was a habit of hers that would probably get her into a lot of trouble down the line, saying the first moderately clever thing that came to mind.

"If you're asking me what I think about the fight though...I think it's glorious."

Maybe it was a bit much to say that it was glorious, but that was really how she felt about it. Along with being a little too witty for her own good, Shallan was honest. It almost pained her to be dishonest, even merely lying by omission.

The use of the exact word he'd been thinking caught Freyr's attention and he dragged his eyes away from the reavers to finally steal a look at the person talking to him. His mouth curled into a smile as he recognized in her rapt expression a fascination much like his own. He was too young to think it might be because she found the older lions attractive, let alone guess that she had any sort of artistic attraction to them. He merely projected his own reasoning onto her actions.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," he confessed. Somehow thinking a word like glorious didn't seem so silly if he wasn't the only one thinking it.

Having gotten a look at the cub beside him and decided that she was all right, Freyr turned his attention back to the fight at hand. He did elect to continue the conversation, however, which was a mark of his good will. "My name's Freyr Galningson."

Shallan grinned broadly, liking the idea that they had both thought the same thing. It served to demonstrate that she was right, and Shallan loved to be right. It was part of why she was so argumentative. The other part being that she was simply contrary by nature.

"Shallan Kaitrusdottir," she replied. It was the first time she had ever introduced herself using her father's name, and it made her feel very grown-up to have done so. "I am glad to know you."

"Is your father teaching you to fight?" she asked, looking at the fighters once more and admiring the shapes their bodies made and the way they fit against one another like violent puzzle pieces.

So far the cubs had not made eye contact while speaking, although each had looked at the other at least once. Shallan was more curious about Freyr than he was about her, but mainly her attention was arrested by the reavers training.

"Mmhmm," he agreed, devoting most of his attention to Snorri and Alaric, whose fight was becoming more fierce, moving toward a climax which would quickly determine the victor. He didn't want to miss that.

"You have to watch this," he urged his companion. "It's going to be absolutely amazing."

This was not the first time he had seen these two lions fighting. They fought like they had known each other of old, turning the conflict into something akin to a dance. Their battle ebbed and flowed with a rhythm he could sense, though not quite enough to allow him to know what would come next. Experience would give him that ability though.

His heart beat quickly as he said, mostly to himself, "That's going to be me, someday."

Shallan watched with unconcealed fascination as Freyr's claws slid out and his muscles flexed in sympathetic reaction to one of the reavers' attacks. He wasn't even aware that he was doing it, she realized with a shock. This was a lion who would grow up to be a warrior like the ones they were watching now. She would enjoy watching that, she thought.

But then he directed her to watch the warriors once more and she looked back in plenty of time to see the climactic clash he had subconsciously predicted. It was every bit as amazing as he had promised it would be and she was glad she had seen it.

They watched in silence until the fight concluded and the two reavers cleared the sands to make way for other warriors. Then Shallan turned to Freyr and asked, "Do you come here every day to watch them fight?"

Freyr watched the gladiators depart and regretted that he couldn't chase after them and tell them how amazing he thought they were, but that would make him even later returning home than he already was. He had been able to ignore that while the fight was actually going on, but now that it was over he couldn't make himself forget any longer that he should have been home ages ago.

"Not every day. Sometimes. Only when I can find an excuse to get out of the den, really," he told Shallan. "Actually, I really shouldn't even be here now, but when I saw Snorri and Alaric were on the sands I couldn't resist watching them."

"Hey, maybe we'll see each other again here." He grinned and there was a flash of the charm that would make him devastating later on in his life. Right now he was completely unconscious of it, and that was attractive enough, but once he learned to weaponize it, the pride's ladies were doomed.

"Don't die in bed!"

Several clever retorts crowded to Shallan's tongue, but she had time to speak none of them, for Freyr didn't pause as he switched from answering her question to explaining that he couldn't stay any longer and bid her goodbye before dashing off.

Shallan watched him leave, her eyes drinking in the way he looked on the move for a few moments before going back to watching the lions who had replaced Snorri and Alaric on the sands. It seemed to her that they were quite good, too.

It didn't take long for her to become thoroughly engrossed in the reavers' sparring to the exclusion of all other things, including time. When she became aware of time's passage once again, glancing at the sky initially because rain had plunked onto her nose, she realized that she should have been home nearly an hour ago. Her mother was going to be so mad!