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Name: Dada'Ntombe (Curly-haired lady) Gender: Female Species: Lion Lineart Edits: Fur: A full mane, thick and vibrant enough to rival that of any male, making her look rather..well...masculine. Adding to that, she has a small curl of hair on her chin, and the tufts of fur on her elbows are more defined and bushy. ((Color: 4c2228 )) Jewelry: She has a feather or two tied into her mane, and a small bangle with a third feather at the end of her tail, just before the tuft of hair there. Body: The usual lines, just a shade thicker, more blocky, more masculine. Markings and tattoos will be defined later. ((Color: eee2c2, markings in a3463f)) Expression: Determined
Prompt Reply: “But…but that’s a male! C’mon now, it’s a joke, right?” The grayish lion laughed, prancing backwards from the scene before him. He looked to his left, to the pair of lions standing there, expecting to find them grinning and chuckling back. “Really…it’s a joke…isn’t it?” His laugher slowly subsided as he realized no one was smiling.
Behind him a small sob was choked off. Confused, he looked back. It had been a female-sounding cry…but all he saw were other lions, thick manes all around. Why would someone be crying if it had all been a joke? He’d been supposed to come to meet a lioness who was to be his mate, and instead he’d been offered another male, a fine tawny specimine. His friends knew he’d been excited to meet the lioness, maybe jealous, and so they’d concocted this scheme, right? “I mean…you can’t expect me to mate this…this male! I mean look! His mane’s thicker than mine!”
The tawny lion in question had been quivering until that point, but at the gray lion’s last jab it let out a pained wail, turning on the spot and running off as fast as it could. Confused, the gray looked back and forth between the others. Anger. Frustration. Sorrow. That was all he read in their faces. “Come…we will leave.” One of the larger males said, ushering him away quickly.
Far away, back near the heart of the pride’s territory, Dada'Ntombe was huddled under a small tree at the edge of the watering hole. Tears bubbled from her eyes in streams, dripping into the water below, casting ripples across the surface and distorting the reflection. A small bird twittered away in the branches above her, oblivious to the pain the young lioness was in.
“Why…Why do they all laugh? Laugh or joke or run away…” She sobbed piteously. “Am…am I that ugly? No male wants me…” She sniffed hard, slowing the tears long enough for the ripples to clear. There in the water was reflected back the image of a fine young male lion, full in his prime by the sheen and thickness of his mane and his fine tan fur. A jaunty tuft sprang from his chin even, giving him a somewhat roguish appearance, despite the sorrow in his eyes.
With a snarl of sorrow turned to rage she slapped the water and wheeled away. Every day she cursed her appearance, but never more than now. The gray male she’d been so fond of, had liked so much from what her parents had told her of him, had finally agreed to be her mate. And then…and then when he’d seen her he'd laughed. Called her a male. He'd thought it was some sick, twisted joke. Is that what I am? Some god's twisted idea of fun?
He was the third male to turn her down upon meeting her. By pride laws, she was now to be considered officially unsuitable for mating. The original idea was that there would have to be a very good reason for a mate to be rejected three times, some disfigurement or distemper that should be kept from the next generation. Of course no one had imagined the consequences in a situation like this, but laws were laws. And the pride was strict in obeying and enforcing them. Come nightfall she would be driven out, cast from the pride. If she could not help to make the future, she would not be helped in the present.
Breathing deep to hide her distress, Dada'Ntombe set off to find her few close friends, her family, and bid them farewell. If she waited she would be driven out, but she did not want to give many of the pride, who long had mocked and teased her for her mane, that pleasure. No, she would make her peace and leave. It was said that her parents' line had come from far to the west. She would leave the pride and head that way. Maybe she could find a new home, a place where even lionesses had manes.
Deep inside she knew there was no such place. She was a freak, a blemish on their perfect pride. On any pride. But to let herself admit that…it would be akin to suicide. Her grief and self loathing would crush her spirit into nothing, leave her starving, too weak to hunt and unwilling to besides. That was why she had to believe. She would believe in such a place…And if there wasn’t one, she would make one. She would carve out a corner of the unclaimed lands across the vast continent, where anyone could live at peace. Females with manes, or hybrids, or maybe even, she mused, males that looked like females. If only.
ShinosBee · Sat Aug 30, 2008 @ 12:55am · 0 Comments |
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