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Mira had always been an early riser, but a heavy sleeper, a combination that worked surprisingly well for her. It allowed her to get a great deal of rest, which was important for looking one's best, but also to wake up in time to perform her entire grooming routine before anyone else was awake, which meant that (as far as anybody knew) she was just naturally that good-looking and put-together.

And that supposition would not have been far from the truth. Casimira was a beautiful lioness, and the extreme care she took to preserve and enhance her beauty made her practically radiant. She was actually radiant in certain lights, due to her gleaming white coat, which she endeavored to keep spotless, even when eating and hunting. Not that she did much hunting. Mira was fairly good at getting others to hunt for her, and not above scavenging if there was no one around to witness it.

At the moment, it was fifteen minutes into her afternoon beauty rest, and Casimira was deeply asleep.

The afternoon sun was nearing its zenith and Frjokorn really wanted little more than to sleep, but he and his best friend were instead following the trail of a lioness they had yet to see, but who smelled absolutely amazing. They had been tracking her for the better part of the day, since coming across her trail the evening before with the rest of the band, but electing to wait until daylight to begin the actual hunt.

"What do you think she'll look like?" Frjo asked Midas. Without waiting for a response he continued, "If she's even halfway pretty, do you mind if I take her for a personal thrall? I'm tired of dealing with all the freeborn lionesses who think they're so important now that we have a female warlord."

And that was the truth. Personaly, Frjo didn't much care whether the warlord had balls or teats, but it was beyond infuriating how many lionesses seemed to think they ought to be reavers and captains now, and how many captains seemed willing to give them a chance to do so, seemingly just to curry favor with the new warlord, despite the lionesses' complete lack of skill.

Midas had been listening to Frjo voice the same complaints for the whole viking, and he was really kind of sick of listening to him. In fact, he had more or less tuned his friend out. It wasn't that he disagreed with any particular point. Like Frjo, he was generally indifferent to a warrior's gender, so long as they were good at what they did, but a lot of the new female reavers didn't seem at all prepared for what the lifestyle required. Even so, he was getting sick of hearing about it.

"Shut up," he said bluntly. "We're close enough that she'll definitely hear your yapping, and then we'll end up having to go back to the rest of the band tomorrow, which means half watches."

It was a relief when Frjo did as Midas had suggested and fell silent, because only ten minutes later the pair came upon a slumbering white lioness whose coat appeared to glow in the noonday sun. Midas thought she looked like a goddess, with her gleaming coat and perfect figure, and he almost said as much, but Frjo was already speaking.

"What?!" Frjo whirled around, his lips curled back from sharp fangs in a furious snarl at his friend, although the accompanying growl was completely drowned out by the deafening volume of Midas's roar.

He glanced back at the lioness in time to see her hindquarters disappearing into the tall grass. Given their relative sizes and likely strengths, Frjo was confident he could catch her easily, even though he'd lost the element of surprise. In fact, in a different situation he would have enjoyed running her down and then teaching her the error of her ways, but now was not the time.

Growling retribution toward Midas, he spun back around and gathered his hind legs under him to lunge after the fleeing white figure, but he had no sooner left the ground in a powerful forward leap then an enormous, muscle-bound mass landed on top of him, crushing him to the ground and driving the air from his body in a painful huff.

With the last of his breath, Frjo panted, "What the ********, Midas?"

Mira was a well-formed lioness, but more because she was careful about how much she consumed, rather than because she exercised. It was simply not in her to run at full speed for long stretches of time, and due to the suddenness of her flight and the haste with which she had arrived at her top speed, she had no reserves of energy to fall back on once her initial adrenaline rush petered out.

It seemed, however, that she was not being immediately pursued, and so she dropped into a plodding almost-trot which was absolutely graceless, and which would have been a source of irritation to her at another time, given her obsession with always looking her best, but at the moment was the most she could still manage as far as escape velocity.

She didn't know why, exactly, she had felt it crucial to flee the yellow-pawed lion, but she had done so, and now she hoped she had made the right decision. There was no way she would be at her most attractive if he came across her at this point, and that could work against her if she needed to attempt to win him over.

Letting Frjokorn up had produced predictable results. His friend had snarled and slashed at him, but Midas had dodged the physical attack and ignored the verbal vitriol. It wasn't as if he didn't deserve both. Interfering with a reaver's attack was pretty damn stupid. Still, he had known they couldn't hold a productive conversation while he pinned Frjokorn to the ground.

Their talk did not go particularly well. Frjo had basically dismissed Midas's words, uninterested in the technicalities that Midas hadn't agreed to Frjo's claim on the lioness, and now indignant at the way Midas had prevented him from making the capture. It was obvious almost from the start that Midas was not going to be able to reason with Frjo, but a part of him hoped that if he could keep his friend talking long enough, it would give the lioness time to escape. He would rather she get away altogether than let Frjo turn her into a personal thrall.

Unfortunately, Frjo eventually lost interest in talking and said, "Fine. She's had enough of a head start. Whichever of us reaches her first, gets to keep her." Then, before Midas could agree or disagree, Frjo had pushed past him.

Although Frjokorn might not recognize this version of Midas, Midas knew this version of Frjokorn, and he knew that he had sufficiently forestalled any further violence on his friend's part. At least enough that Midas could finally turn away from him and look at the lioness. Doing so proved something of a mistake, as he could not tear his gaze away from her once he was at last allowed to drink in his fill of her beauty, if it was even possible to be satiated with any amount of that.

"I would not make you a thrall," Midas said, speaking to the elegant lioness. She had a splash of midnight purple across her left eye akin to the golden mark he bore in the same place. "To do so would be a crime. But I would take you to wife, if you'll have me."

He wasn't sure if what he felt swelling in his breast was love, but it was powerful, and with it came the overwhelming urge to protect this astonishing creature, and cherish her. Indeed, if anyone was going to be enthralled here, it would undoubtedly be him, he realized without any distress.

Mira was able to figure out some of what was going on between the two lions fairly easily. They both wanted her. The one with the lighter brown coat and darker yellow mane wanted her body, and seemed brutish enough to have his way with her regardless of any protest she might make. The one with the darker brown coat and lighter yellow mane wanted...something else.

She had seen love-struck lions before, and she wasn't sure that was what she was dealing with here, but she felt that between the two of them, she would be best off taking the offer made by the lion with a splash of gold across his face. Perhaps the similar marking was a sign that they were meant to be bound to one another, she thought ruefully.

"I will consent to be your bride," Mira said, hoping that she was not making a mistake that she would have cause to regret. His devotion was evident and gratifying, although really no more than she was due, but that could also be dangerous if it turned to obsession, as Mira had learned.

"Please take me home," she said regally. She didn't ask either lion's name. She was sure she'd learn both, in time. Especially if they truly were brothers.

Frjo's fury gave way to baffled astonishment at the words coming out of his friend's mouth. At first, it was like Frjo had actually been struck dumb by the absurdity of the situation. People simply did not do things like this. This wasn't how the world worked. He had been raised in a priestess's household. He knew these things.

And yet the pair more or less pledged their troth on a moment's acquaintance, not even knowing one another's names.

"This is insane," Frjokorn informed the pair, who now seemed to have forgotten his presence completely, which was mildly insulting, except that Frjo had concluded that this whole series of events was probably the beginning of a slow descent into madness on his part, or else a dream, and there was little more he could do than go along with it for the time being.

"You're insane," he called after the two of them as they began walking, presumably toward the pride. "Shall I just tell the captain you've gone crazy and went home sick?"

He gave up. No one was listening to him. With a sigh he turned and headed back toward the band. This was going to be a weird explanation.