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No one had told her having cubs was going to be so uncomfortable. Saran was sure she was carrying six or maybe even seven cubs with the size she got, and it certainly didn't make things any better that they were migrating during the worst part of her pregnancy. She bore her burden silently, though, not wanting to complain and be seen as ungrateful for such a large litter. She hoped that they all would be born strong and fit - usually with litters this large there was at least one runt that didn't fare too well. They were still a good distance from their new homelands and she didn't want to have to worry about any stragglers.

She was surprised, therefore, when the time came to have her cubs that there were only three. Each cub was easily the size of two, though, which explained her confusion. The birth itself had been relatively easy, and the now proud mother relaxed in the small den she had found with her snoozing brood. Two females and one male, all three of them massive and with wonderful markings. Saran quietly thanked their rogue father for his wonderful genes - he had been massive himself and her plan to have large cubs had obviously been successful.

Leaning down, she groomed the back of the one male in the group, whom she had named Daksruae. Males were usually raised by the father once they were old enough to no longer depend on their mothers, but as the father of this litter wouldn't be present, Saran was a bit concerned as to whom to trust to raise the boy right. She certainly couldn't trust her brother with the task - Nokhoi was proving to be a bigger disappointment than she had teased him about in their youth.

Daksruae yawned softly and rolled to his side as his mother's tongue bathed him. He swatted a paw at her nose, batting it playfully as he opened an eye. He had just done so for the first time yesterday - the first of his siblings - and the tiniest of mews left his muzzle as his mother chuckled above him.

Saran watched as Daksruae rolled around, trying to get to his feet. He was still unsteady on his paws, but so far he was the first of his siblings to try to leave the den. She would have her paws full with this one as he grew, to be sure, but she was glad her children were already showing signs of being fearless and taking charge. The cub managed to get himself onto his paws and was staggering around the den when a voice from outside made them both turn to look.

"Mother," Saran said with a relieved tone. She hadn't eaten since she had gone into the cave a few days prior and her stomach was snarling at her. She rose to her paws and carefully stepped over the two sleeping cubs, leaving Daksruae to try to follow her.

As she left the den she pressed her head against Sarangerel's in thanks. "Thank you. I haven't had the mind to even ask for food lately." She reached down without hesitation to grab the prey, but a tiny mew from the den made her drop it and turn. Daksruae had made his way into the mouth of the little cave and was blinking furiously in the sunlight.

"Well, come on then," she said, wanting to see just how far he'd come out. At her prompting, Dak took a few more stumbling steps out into the sunlight, peeering up at the two lionesses.

"Mother...your grandson, Daksruae," she said, a proud tone to her voice. "And two females still sleeping and still unnamed within." Surely her mother would notice his size and the fact that there were only two other cubs in the den.

Saran lifted her head and puffed up her chest a bit as her mother voiced her approval. Dak stared up at his grandmother as she got closer and gave a tiny 'roar' that, once again, was merely a high pitched squeak. He stumbled forward and bumped against Sarangerel's paws, chewing on a toe happily.

"A few days prior. When we first found this place I decided it would be best to find a suitable den, and when I did, they decided they wanted to see it, too," she said with an amused snort. Reaching down, she lightly pushed Dak's rump so he settled atop his grandmother's paws, his tiny legs and tail flailing to find purchase.

"He was the last born but the first to open his eyes. Once the girls open theirs I shall give them names as well. Would you like to see them?" she added, knowing full well that while males were good to have, females were the true prizes.

"Indeed. They're all quite large. Remember when I said there must be six or seven?" she said with a laugh. "Just three...but each are so large already." She led the way back into the den, trusting Dak would either follow or Sarangerel would carry him in.

Once inside she sat proudly behind the two cubs, one with coloration quite similar to mother and grandmother with beautiful markings on her paws. The other blended in almost perfectly in the dark den, her markings less plentiful but a beautiful golden color.

Dak, sensing his mother had left, bumped against Sarangerel's legs as he scooted off her paws. He pounced rather ungracefully into the shade once more, leading the older lioness into the den.

Dak tumbled over his siblings who pushed him out of the pile in their sleep. He gave a distressed mew as he ended up on his back, his paws flailing in the air. Eventually he turned himself over and waddled back to Saran, flopping against his mother in a rather put-out sort of way.

"Oh yes, I already do," Saran said as she lightly patted her son's rump to console him a bit. "Just waiting to see what they're like once they're up and about. Hopefully by tomorrow," she added, leaning in to give each daughter's back a stroke with her tongue. They didn't budge much from their slumber but made a few content noises.

Not liking to be outshone by his siblings, Dak pounced forward and gave a tiny mew once more before dashing (shakily) over to Saragerel again. He jumped on her paws, tiny tail lashing back and forth. Once again his sights were set on chewing, this time on the straps around Sarangerel's paw.

Dak looked up at Sarangerel as she spoke to him, the strap still between his teeth although he had stopped chewing to stare in awe. She looked so much like his mother that for a moment he was confused and glanced over at Saran as she moved closer. He wasn't too sure what a Warlord was just yet, but the tone with which his grandmother spoke let him know it was something good.

He released the straps as he shifted a bit, butting his head against Sarangerel's legs to get her to play. His sisters were being boring so it was now her job to entertain him.

"Thank you," Saran said as she passed by the two, giving her son's little mane a fond ruffle. It sent him into a mewling fit as he tried to roar again, swatting at the much larger paw with his own. "He's going to be trouble sooner or later," she said with a little chuckle. "But I think you're right. He'll certainly become a great Warlord." Pressing against her mother's side as she walked out of the den, her chest remained full as the noises of her cubs followed her to her meal. They'd all become great members in this pride, she was sure. She'd raise them properly as her mother had raised her.

FIN