[Past-dated rp, back when the gypsy reign was still in effect.]
The walk back was tense, though Marzel sensed that that only held true for him. The plants were thick around them and there was no distinct path in sight, but his new acquaintances had no issues determining where they were going. The two males walked calmly on either side of him, seemingly not paying any attention to him whatsoever, though Marzel was sure they took note of every breath he took. Likewise, he studied his captors as they strolled through the dense foliage - focusing most intently on that captivating female. Her markings were the most intricate he had seen on any creature in all his travels, and her colors were just radiant - the way her patterning paled, it seemed as though her pelt had just lost its saturation. And the stark contrast between the reds of her pelt and the blues of her mane and tail.
He had already surmised that she was the eldest among the three, though most likely only by a few seasons. From the conversation that took place, he gathered that she was also the senior guard in the trio, and the two younger males were seemingly still in training - or just fresh out of it and still getting pointers. Marzel was painfully aware that the way the three spoke to each other was casual and easy, even teasing each other and joking at times, as if they weren't escorting a freshly caught prisoner back to their camp.
I'm not even enough of a threat to stop them from goofing off.
The jungle started to thin out ever so slightly and the scent of the sea and many lions grew heavy in Marzel's nostrils, causing his ears to flatten back against his head as he started to worry. They were coming upon the main pride, and there was no turning back now - not that he ever really had that option. His tail began flicking with agitated nerves as the female dismissed her comrades, with thanks for a job well done and orders to report to the King before going off duty. They smiled at Marzel, one tossing him a wink that made his stomach tense and roll over, before loping off to the left and disappearing into the verdure.
The ground abruptly ended as the two came upon the pride's cove. Upon reaching the edge, Marzel noted that the cliffs - while high - were cut through with several levels that formed easily manageable cliffs for all those that were not careless. The trees continued on at the base of the bluff, with several dotting the wall itself. Marzel's warden led him along the right-most edge of the pride, keeping close to the cliffs, and he looked around at the pride's goings-on as he followed, relishing in the feeling of the ground beneath his paws as it turned from lush grass and wildflower patches to bright white sand. He had never been on a beach before, and he was hopeful he would get the chance to properly stretch his toes and claws out in the sand.
"Well, stranger, we're almost there. I am called Blood in the Water; Blood for short. What's your name?"
A name like that doesn't make her any less frightening."My name is Marzel," he answered shortly. No point in lying. He wondered if Blood would actually deign to speak with him, and after a pause, he ventured, "Do you all have such frightening names?"
A short bark of laughter, a showing of teeth that could only be described as a thrillingly terrifying smile. "No, not all of us. When we are old enough, we all choose a second name for ourselves that we use with strangers. Especially outsiders. They can be anything. In fact, our Patron General is called Flower Lord."
Gathering that "patron" was the title this pride gave to their guard rank, Marzel found it amusing that their head warrior had such a soft name, but he stifled the urge to smirk. He guessed that it would be unwise to mock any lion that could manage to be the captain of this guard, regardless of their "flowery" name.
"So how did you choose your name?" he queried, calmer now as he realized that Blood would not hurt him without provocation.
"Before my naming ceremony, I was down by the ocean thinking about what I wanted to be called. I saw a seabird floating listlessly out on the water and watched it for a few moments when suddenly it was gone, nothing left but a few feathers and a spreading pool of blood. A shark had taken it from underneath. I had already unofficially begun my patron training, and in that instant, I hoped I could become skilled enough as a patron to pick off intruders like that shark picked off its prey. Quickly, cleanly, without being detected, and leaving barely a trace..." A wistful look had crossed Blood's face as she described her memory of the shark, and she paused at the end of her story before flashing her wicked smile and stating coyly, "Also, it kind of fits with my pelt colors."
Marzel was completely drawn in by the recounting, so much so that the small joke at the end made him start. He chuckled, but before he could respond, Blood stopped short.
"Well, Marzel, I hope you've prepared yourself because we're here."
He had decidedly not prepared himself. At all. The two had arrived at a den masked with strong-smelling, flowering ferns, and Blood instructed him to wait outside while she went in to speak with its inhabitant. Marzel couldn't fathom who Blood had taken him to meet. He would have assumed the pride's leader if the other two patrons had not taken off in a different direction when told to report to the King. He found himself drawing the scents around him over his tongue in an effort to see if he could smell who was in the den, and was about to chastise himself for being so silly - how in the world would he know the scent of a lion he'd never met? - but was astonished to find that, underneath Blood's scent and the heady smell of the ferns, there was something familiar. He just couldn't place it with that damned plant clogging his senses. Marzel waited with bated breath as the sound of voices and soft pawsteps neared the entrance to the den, and the ferns were brushed aside as first Blood exited the burrow, and then...
"Zuni?"