The Aikanaro'hini were no more.
Tirnen was of mixed feelings about this. On one paw, being a member of a pride had distinct advantages, not the least of which was the simple fact that there was safety and power in numbers, and not just in regards to defense from threats. That he couldn't have cared less about, but when it came to hunting? That had been so very much easier in a group. Still dangerous, with the hooves and horns of desperate prey taken into account, but definitely easier and more exciting. Chasing and bringing down large beasts was a thrill, and one he found hismelf missing. Even had it not been so difficult or dangerous as to be near-impossible, as a lone lion there was no need for him to even attempt to hunt large game. It was infinitely more practical to go after smaller creatures, like hares or klipspringers, and it wasn't nearly as dramatic an affair. They were also faster and more nimble, and more often than not outran or outmaneuvered him. After a week on his own, he was as hungry as he had been after his name quest, and he didn't like it. Not at all!
On the other paw, he did not miss the company of his fellow 'demons.' As a young lion, he had been happy to buy into the belief that there was a supernatural being living inside him, dark and powerful. A captivating fantasy, to be sure, one he had hoped to fulfill by undertaking his trial and finding his true name. Undertake his trial he had, find his inner demon...not so much. The week of alone time and 'soul-searching,' however, had given him plenty of time to think. Over the course of the first few days, he had obsessed over the prospect of finding his demon and its name. His name. But...nothing. There had been only silence, only himself. On the fourth day, he despaired. He would not know his name, and he would die for it! On the fifth day, after the despair had subsided, he began to think. And the more he thought, the more he doubted that he had any name to find at all. Any demon.
He had no demon. At first, panic took hold again; he was defective, unworthy, and he would still die. But then the thought that he had no demon led into the thought that maybe, just maybe, neither did anyone else. He had always considered himself a clever lion, but he could see now that he had been foolish. He had believed a lie for no reason other than that he had wanted to. Gullible. Stupid. He had no time to be embarrassed by himself, though, as this realization came with a new problem: he still had to finish his trial. He had to reach the center of the volcano, stand before the leaders and the priests, and reveal the 'true name' of his 'inner demon.' His nonexistent inner demon. It wasn't as though he could just stand in front of them, call them stupid and/or delusional, and expect to not be pitched into the lava. Without a demon to declare himself the vessel of, he was as good as dead. Right, maybe, but still dead.
He had had to lie. He had stood in front of the pride's leaders and priests, and lied. And he had lied very well, and gotten away with it - and kept on getting away with that lie, and others, right through the faltering pride's death throes and eventual dispersal. Ultimately, inconvenience that it was, he was glad that it was over; he'd been getting tired of that particular lie, bored with life as a pretend demon. It was no demon that made him a liar: he had done that. 'Demons' were a petty, childish excuse to be 'bad,' and he was old enough not to have to make excuses for himself. He was a liar, and selfish, and cruel at times, because that was who he was. To blame one's nature on a make-believe supernatural force was just a convenient, lazy, too-easy cop-out. It was pathetic, in his not-so-humble opinion, and he was glad to be rid of lions he assured himself had been inferior beings. They were foolish, and he - he was enlightened! He was better off without them.
In the rare moments that he was lonely, usually just on the edge of sleep, that was what he told himself. It did make him feel better, although it didn't make the hunger gnawing at his belly go away. Sadly, no amount of arrogance could cure that particular problem, and he was tired of fruitlessly chasing little hares. Losing to such a tiny, lesser little creature when he was a mighty lion was infuriating! He was just going to have to behave like the dishonest, dishonorable 'demon' that he was, and steal from the more successful or fortunate. He would avoid other lions, who would be an even or nearly even match for him (and more likely to be part of a group, in which case he would be hopelessly outnumbered), if possible, and seek out cheetahs and leopards and steal their hard-earned kills from them. He should be able to intimidate them easily enough, if they had any sense at all; no cheetah or leopard was a match for a lion, and most would see the wisdom in giving up a meal rather than their life. And if they did not, well, then he would kill them, and the world would have one less fool in it, and he would have that much more to eat.
The thought made Tirnen - or maybe he would call himself Andhaka now, and truly flaunt his disdain for superstition by giving his 'true name' to any and all - smile. Eventually, he would have to find a better solution to his predicament if he wanted to live a long life (which he did!), but for now, scavenging and intimidating his way through the rogue territories would have to do.
Andhaka was nothing if not clever, and he would figure something out sooner or later.