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Posted: Fri Feb 20, 2015 2:41 am
Lucivar carried the cub over the threshold and into his home, the pink and white ball of fur swinging from his jaws. He had been very careful picking the cub up, never having had to transport one before. But he had seen many a mother use the same grip and had been careful to keep his fangs back, only griping just enough to keep the boy from falling. Finally home he set the cub down gratefully, pleased to have gotten the boy back safe and sound. At least physically. He wasn’t sure how the cub was doing mentally, but that would be his job from now on, to teach him how to be a proper stormborn. Later, they would work on his physical strength, but for now, Lucivar guessed it would all be mental.
Stepping back he stared down at the bundle of fluff. So tiny and helpless. Kind of how Lucivar himself felt… he knew what he was going to do with the boy, how they would train. But right now…? Having set the cub down on the heap of furs that was Lucivar’s bedding, the Captain himself settled down on the stone next to him, so he could study the boy more closely. “Are you hungry?” He asked.
The den itself was nice, as far as rocky caves went. It was large inside with a small, sheltered entrance. The floor was scattered with thickly furred pelts and a heap of them stuffed with moss formed the bed upon which Olaf sat. Strange items adorned the rocky walls, placed into nooks and on jutting shelves. The prizes from the captain’s past Vikings. Bits of glittering gold and silver jewellery. Shimmering gem rocks in vibrant colours. Unusually shaped wood, either natural or carved, gathered most likely from crafters. A few skulls and bones were also on display, mixed in with the rest. There were even a few pelts carefully hung, their fur thick and smooth and decorated with many bright paints and dyes. None were feline though, just like the hides on the floor, they had been prey animals before their death.
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Posted: Wed Feb 25, 2015 4:26 pm
He was afraid. What cub wouldn't be? He'd been sent from his brothers and sister, away from his mother... Away from his family. The lions that had been gathered at the send-off of his littermates and himself to become the Thralls of families had made it clear that Thralls were seen, not heard, unless spoken to.
Susu had made sure to try and impart that upon them, too, though one of his brothers had proven to be a problematic one, in the Priestess' eyes. Olaf himself was meek.
His mother had told him that the mark on his flanks was a glorious one, one that meant great things in his future. He saw it as nothing more than a marking, something to make him easier to identify. It meant nothing to the cub.
Olaf now looked around, taking the den in. It was nothing like what he expected a Captain to have. Bodil hadn't spoken much of her father when the cub had been around her, or when she'd been around the cub, so this was all a surprise to him. His gaze turned down, as he kneeded his claws lightly into the fur. This was... Nice... They slept on the rocky ground in the Priestess' denhold.
His eyes snapped up, ears folding back momentarily, as Lucivar spoke, but the words were not orders as he'd been told to expect. It was... A question... It took him a moment to realize what had been asked of him, and he shook his head. "N-no, sir, I'm not hungry right now..." It wasn't a lie. The cubs had been permitted a meal before being doled out, a last bonding moment with Amaranth before they parted ways, and an assurance that they wouldn't cry of hunger as soon as they got to their new home dens.
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Posted: Fri Feb 27, 2015 3:22 am
Lucivar studied the cub for a long moment, watching him fidget and kneed at the bedding. Nodding at the hesitantly offered reply he was suddenly struck with the knowledge that there was a cub in his den. The thin, high voice almost lost in the space that had been his home since he himself had left his parents, long ago now. Tilting his head he studied the boy. Now what? He supposed there was a correct order to these things, but what it may have been he hadn’t the slightest clue. Briefly he thought of his parents thralls Ferawyn or Mopani. They might have had some useful advice to offer, but he was entirely without either of them and so both he and the cub would have to make the best of it.
Well, didn’t they say ‘start as you mean to go on’?
“First some ground rules.” He shifted, folding one large, scared paw against his chest. “You will not leave the den without either my company, or my order. Though I will not be sending you out alone just yet.” He waited for a nod or an agreement before continuing. “While here and when you are not learning, you may use your time as you wish, so long as it is not in a destructive manner.” Not that he thought the cub would have much free time. He intended to keep Olaf busy enough. “You will undertake lessons both in my company, and on your own if I am called away.” He added by way of explanation. After all it was only fair to alert the cub as to what he would be doing.
Pausing for a moment he watched the boy. It would certainly be different, having him around… Lucivar thought that he would quite like the change to his routine.
“I am likely to often be busy myself, so if you need anything you are to come and tell me.” After a moment of consideration he added. “I expect obedience, but you are here to learn. If you disagree with me, or have your own ideas, we will discuss them. Do not be too afraid to speak up.” He hadn’t ever considered himself scary, not to his own pride members, but the cub was looking a little pale and he thought it best to reassure Olaf that he wasn’t going to get bitten for small mistakes, or for thinking for himself. After all, Lucivar had no use for a meek thrall that could only take orders. He needed someone he could trust to act on his behalf, to take the initiative and predict what Lucivar may require. Certainly, if all went as he hoped, Olaf would be more reaver than thrall. He briefly thought of the thrall Ragnvard owned, a waif like female so beaten down he doubted she had any spirit left at all.
Pulling his mind back to the present he studied the boy again, patiently waiting for Olaf’s response.
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