[ PRP ] Rolling Thunder | Alabaster & Stormwind |

[Thalion]

It had been days since his departure from Lewenharto's cave. Tobias had made himself scarce within the pride, lurking far from the main denning site and emerging in the rare twilight hours just before dawn. He managed to hunt a few hares for himself and had carefully cleaned every little bone from its fragile body to offer to the Magpie in exchange for some additional information- or the promise of a favor. The hare's pelt, sadly, had been beyond saving. It had been ugly anyway, at least in his opinion. The best leather and pelt came from much larger, more durable creatures. What use a hare could have in its pelt was beyond him. They were small, thin-skinned, and horribly fragile.

His denning site, if one could call it that, was up in the tangled, stripped branches of a gnarled tree hanging just feet from the edge of a sandy cliff overlooking the pride territory. Here, he could lounge in the sand-polished branches, hidden by the thin but rough leaves, and sheltered by the crudely twisted twigs that he had formed to make a nest of sorts. It wasn't much, but it was away from the commotion down below. There he could observe the pride.

Of course- he couldn't hear them. The drum beats and the occasional collective voices drifted above the waves but he didn't need all that. Most communication never rolled off of a tongue. Their bodies screamed, their posturing chattered, and their subtle gestures whispered their secrets. It was a tapestry of characters, that was for certain. They were so like his old troupe...but so different at the same time.

His maw twisted. A place for outcasts and rejects... the old alchemist seemed to have his head in the clouds.

Andranis

 

[Andranis]

After a lifetime living like a rogue, even in the brief time they'd been in the Ukuucha, the pale lion reveled in being in a pride. Of course, after a lifetime living like a rogue with few for company, he was also far more accustomed to not being so... CROWDED. Emera, having hailed from a small pride, had her own times of needing to get away from the noise, but nowhere near as much as Wamblee did. Katiti had assimilated to the cacophony with the most ease, hailing from the bustling Pridelands. There it was hard to NOT bump into a lion... And here, even with the thick jungle, it wasn't much different.

The pale lion slid amid the plants, not minding that his coat stood out and made him visible for all to see. It wasn't his way, after all, to hide in the undergrowth. Let others see him. In the night, he sometimes looked like a ghost, spooking undesirables away. Now, though, it was mainly acting as a beacon to let others know he was approaching if they were looking for those approaching.

Which speaking of... He almost missed the collection of twigs up in the tree, and by extension the lion in it. The pink-marked lion stopped, looking up and taking a step back to better regard it. Huh... "Interesting den there, Stormwind... Is it any good at keeping you dry if it rains?" He was, of course, running on the notion that the smaller lion would have noticed him coming when he was still farther below than the tree's roots.

Thalion