They were purple. Aeglaeca sniffed at the sweet smelling blossoms he'd found growing in a patch of sunlight high up in one of the jungle's gargantuan trees. They were attached a sickly looking yellow sort of vine, the kind that would remind any creature of a lunch that particularly disagreed with them. Or a hairball, his mind supplied along with the disgusting memory of the first one he'd retched up a few days earlier. He dry-gagged at the memory and, before he could truly make a mess, he snatched the flowers from their lifeline in a single breath and ran down the tree limb away from the root. The stems didn't taste as bad as a carnivore might have thought; rather sweet and oddly cold, but not bad. Perhaps there was a reason other creatures chose to eat these rather than hot flesh, but Aeglaeca's taste for blood ran too deep for him to consider attempting to digest this lot. Besides, he reminded himself, these were for mother.In the few weeks since their birth the "freak" cub was adjusting to the living world as fast as all beat cubs did. Already his days as a helpless mewling infant were forgotten, and while he was a far cry from defending himself, he'd proven to be one of the strongest--if not the strongest of their litter. He'd overheard that it was always that way with litters, one sibling was stronger than the rest, and one was always weaker. No matter what the reality was, or how young his mind to decide such things, Aeglaeca wanted to be the strongest. Being strong might please his mother.
It had become readily apparent that the bitter, biting leopardess was less than pleased with the "freaks" she had born. Indeed, it might have been said that she hated them for all that she nursed and bathed them--what little affection she gave was pressed by the aunt who'd refused to leave their family's side. Aeglaeca, of course, knew not what to call his mother's affections other than love, and so was not bothered by her treatment of them. Instead, he was bothered by the attention she gave two of the others.
That part his young mind quite ready to understand--despite his strength he couldn't hold her attention. He had attempted begging and mewling at her like his siblings had, but that hadn't worked. This time, he thought to bring her flowers from somewhere up high--to prove that he was strong enough to climb the tallest trees rather than stay in the den she'd built for them. Aeglaeca paused upon one of the trees, and gave a glance at the ground down below. It was a dizzying height, but the cub narrowed his eyes and the spinning stilled. He was not afraid.
Carefully he slipped down the gradually sloping limb to where he might leap across to the next. Down and down he went, building up speed as he grew more confident. Close to the ground, a wet patch of moss slid under his paw and the cub found himself thrown to the ground from a greater height than he'd meant. Eyes wide, he twisted his body out of pure instinct... and surprised himself by landing upright and without harm--if his legs did hurt very slightly at the impact.
Aeglaeca blinked slowly, unconscious of how his fur now stood on end, and looked back up to the limbs where he'd taken the flowers from. His gift for mother was perfect, and he hadn't had an accident..... The cub puffed his chest up a little, standing straighter in pride as he turned to strut back towards the family's den.
