Andhiya'o. Though she'd long since abandoned the home and traditions she'd been born to, she had chosen to keep just one upon gaining entrance to the Stormborn, and had changed her name. She'd never much liked 'Yu,' and in all honesty couldn't even remember what her mother had told her it meant. Probably something boring and dignified, knowing her mother, maybe duty or some such thing. Chemankari had always taken herself far too seriously, and her stories about the Jini-misemi and their family's heritage had gone on and on and on...more often than not, they'd put the spotted youth to sleep, or driven her to sneak off and find something more exciting to do. It felt like she'd spent her whole life looking for something more exciting to do, from shirking lessons as a cub to marching off on her pilgrimage before anyone actually had a chance to get around to telling her to go. She was almost surprised her mother hadn't come chasing after her to drag her back and make her wait for the appointed time. What did it even matter, anyway? She had always dreamed of leaving and never returning, so it wasn't like she needed to worry about getting into trouble (not that she ever did).
No, she knew from the outset that she was never going to return to the mountain, and after mucking about in the roguelands looking for adventure (and making trouble), she had followed word of a pride that offered a much more thrilling life than the one she'd come from. Life as a rogue was fine and all, but there were also long stretches of boredom between moments of excitement, so she'd followed the stories about the Stormborn and challenged her way in. She'd whipped a scarred-up Reaver's a** to get in, and the thought still made her chuckle every time it crossed her mind; not just because winning against the tough old lion had thrilled her so, but because the fight had been fun, a brawl interspersed with crude banter. That was the sort of thing she'd come for, what she wanted more of. Andhiya'o always wanted more.
And that constant hunger for more was why she was here, back out in the unclaimed lands, but not as a rogue. Nah, she'd found where she belonged and had no intentions of leaving, but life as a Freeborn just wasn't quite enough. She wanted real fights, real glory, plunder and thralls! She had briefly considered the prospect of having an army of thralls to do her bidding, but the more she thought about the mechanics of it, she expected that maintaining such a thing would be too much like work. One poor sod to order around would be fine for starters, then she could go from there. Of course, as usual, she was getting ahead of herself. She wasn't even a Reaver yet! But she would be when this was done! She'd found a band willing to let her come along - ha, they should be downright eager to have her with them! - and ventured out with them on this, her very first Viking.
Things had been going swimmingly thus far, they'd even had a fantastic little scrap and come away with some excellent trinkets, but not enough for everyone - and certainly not enough for her. Being the newest of the bunch, since there wasn't enough to go around, well, that meant none for her. But if she could get something on her own, something all hers, there'd be no splitting! So during a rest, while some sat and argued and swapped stories and others chose to go about their own business, Andhiya'o decided it was time to go about some business of her own. She was going to get herself her first thrall! You couldn't split those.
The trick was going to be finding one in the few-hour window of time she had. (Would they leave her behind if she was late? She wouldn't put it past them!) The other trick was finding a good one, not some silly little jackal. No, nothing but a lion would do. There was a definite appeal to the idea of a big, strapping male, and impressive conquest, but a pretty little lioness could be entertaining, something to make the males jealous.
As it happened, what she found was neither of those things. It was impressive, in an impressively ugly and terrifying sort of way. After following a telltale trail - one that smelled of lion and old blood - she came upon a dark lioness, tall and lanky, leanly muscled and wrapped in dirty scraps of cloth, with markings reminiscent of blood and bone. It was not what she had had in mind, but...it would do, she decided. It was also getting late, so now was not the time to be picky. Eagerly, too eager for preparation or caution, she pounced at the filthy lioness.
Unfortunately for her, the lioness was waiting for her, all too aware that she had been followed, and had made a game of it for herself. She was out of the way in the blink of an eye, moving with enviable speed and efficiency, and turned to strike at her would-be captor, claws unsheathing from her bone-marked paw and raking the young lioness' hide. "You move like an elephant!" she cackled, altogether too pleased to be under attack. "I heard you coming a mile away."
Shocked that her surprise attack was no surprise (although she was certainly surprised), Andhiya'o had no time to defend herself from the claws that bit into her shoulder. She let out an indignant - and undignified - yelp, and leapt at what had turned from quarry to opponent, striking out with her own claws but catching only fabric as the lioness danced out of the way with another infuriating laugh.
"Too loud, too slow, too stupid!" The much larger female struck again, shoving bodily into the spotted lioness and snapping at her with yellowed fangs.
Andhiya'o stumbled, but narrowly managed to avoid being bitten and made her own attempt at getting a mouthful of her opponent, ripping away a piece of dirty old cloth before scuttling out of the way of too-sharp claws again and realizing abruptly and belatedly that she was in way over her head. Though she was always one to assume victory, for once in her life, staring down a lioness who looked like death incarnate, sense prevailed. She turned and fled, running like her life depended on it, because she was certain that it did. A part of her expected to be chased, to feel the kiss of claws again, but that part of her was wrong. Instead of pursuit, she heard laughter, manic and mocking, and it rang in her ears and followed her long after it had faded from the air.
Finally, after what seemed like an age, she slowed her frantic pace and assessed her surroundings. Her run hadn't been entirely blind, and she was headed in the general direction of the rest of the band. The band. s**t. She was going to need a story, and it was going to have to be a lot better than 'got my a** kicked and ran like hell.' She glanced at her bleeding shoulder, which was sure to scar. If these were going to be her first scars, there was going to be a damn good story to go with them.
Even if that story was a lie.
