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 Posted: Thu Feb 27, 2014 8:46 am
((HESTA WAS BORN INTO THE PRIDE SHE IS MOPANI'S DAUGHTER WITH TYR FFFFFF))Quote:  There was much that could be said about Reaver Taraxa's family. He was growing old, and fat, and lazy. His sister had taken a female thrall to wife. His son had fathered a litter with his aunt's wife. There was much drama to be had within that family, and oftentimes they were the butt of many jokes. Their family had been members since the pride had come to be, and because of that they were respected enough. Hesta hated it. Hesta loved her family, but she hated the stigma. It brought her great strife, and she did her best to distance herself from the others. Because of this, the instant she was old enough, Hesta took it upon herself to move the ******** out of her mother's den. She was currently struggling to move a large mountain of furs she'd pilfered. Quote:  Skansom knew Taraxa's family well, and usually he did his best to stay away from the crazy bunch. They were loud and obnoxious and a little off; they were nice enough, though, and so when Skansom saw Hesta struggling to move a mountainous pile of furs, he only hesitated for a second before approaching the lioness. "Can I be of assistance, Hesta? It might be easier if two of us pulled it; or, really, you called for a thrall to do such labor for you. That's what they're here for, you know." His voice was soft and friendly, and harbored no spite.
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Posted: Thu Feb 27, 2014 8:57 am
Quote: Hesta hadn't seen Skansom approach, and she let out a little grunt of surprise at the sound of his voice. She scowled softly, debating her options. Skan was one of the nicer lions she knew, and his offer of help (while not unwelcome) came as a little bit of a shock to her. He seemed the sort to avoid her family at all costs, and while Hesta couldn't begrudge him that, it kind of pissed her off at the same time. Flicking an ear, Hesta dipped her head with a forced grace that she'd probably practiced far too often. "I would appreciate your help, Skansom." Quote: Skan stepped forward and pushed against the pile of furs with his shoulder. A few slipped off the top, and Skan frowned lightly. "You're moving, I take it?" He shoved again, and only a few more slipped off of the pile. "To your own den?" Skan decided that delicacy was not going to accomplish anything, and he rammed his side into the immovable mountain of furs. The top half slid onto the ground, and he immediately began reforming a smaller, more manageable stack of furs. He wanted to comment on the impossible amount of furs, but refrained. She was already looking at him a little cross-eyed, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going on in that head of hers.
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Posted: Thu Feb 27, 2014 9:04 am
Quote: "Yes, I'm moving. To my own den. I'm old enough, you know, and ready to find a job or something." Hesta had no idea what sort of job she wanted to have, but she liked pretty, graceful lionesses like Dalla and Myka, and she was keen to be as pretty and graceful as them. Because being pretty and graceful was important. "These are my furs," Hesta continued, almost daring Skansom to question the blasphemous amount she'd been dragging along. "All of them. I need them. For my new den. It's not far from here." She didn't sound very reassuring, even to her own ears. Quote: "Great," Skansom gritted out from behind a mouthful of furs. At least they seemed clean. He'd have been furious if they'd been filthy. Well, maybe not furious. More like resigned. Skansom didn't really get furious. "Why do you need so many?" He regretted the words the instant they fell from his mouth, and he quickly averted his gaze. "I mean, they're.. you. Never mind." It wasn't any of his business, but friendly conversation was kind of awkward in situations like these. "Where is your new home?" The sooner he could be done playing thrall to Taraxa's niece, the better.
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Posted: Thu Feb 27, 2014 9:10 am
Quote: Hesta almost snapped at the lion, but then she paused and asked herself a question. What would Dalla do? Dalla would not snap. She would not grouch and grumble. She would dip her head gracefully and gesture with a petite paw. She would speak soft words with a gentle timbre, and she would assuredly not find herself offended by the prying questions. Hesta lifted up a broad paw and pointed awkwardly towards her new home. It was a fair distance away, but not so far as to be a trek. "FOR SLEEPING, THERE," she almost snarled, the volume of her voice a near yell. Clearing her throat, Hesta sniffed. Quote: Skansom's eyes widened slightly, and he lifted up the bottom fur so that he could drag it along. It wasn't so far, and if he was determined he could accomplish it in two trips. Really, it was the gentlemanly thing to do, and Skan was not a barbaric sort. Skada called him a soft-hearted male, and perhaps he was. Or perhaps he was just stupid, and that was how he found himself in situations like this. Unpleasant ones, with a strange lioness who appeared to be having some sort of fit as she followed along behind him at a snail's pace.
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Posted: Thu Feb 27, 2014 9:15 am
Quote: "You are so very gracious, Skansom," Hesta whispered in a soft voice as she followed behind him, walking very straight and proud. She attempted to school her expression into something placid and regal, but only came off looking as though her stomach pained her greatly. "I will have a trinket made for you," she continued, lifting her voice just slightly. She didn't think he'd heard her prior comment, because he hadn't stopped to thank her profusely. "A necklace perhaps," Hesta's voice rose again, and she had to walk faster to keep up with Skan. "Don't hurt yourself, Skansom. Watch that rock." Quote: Skan stumbled slightly and turned to glance behind him. The den loomed closer, and he hurried clumsily so that he could drop the furs just inside the mouth of the den. Once finished, he turned to Hesta. "Stay here, I'll be right back with the others." He paused long enough to make sure she wasn't following him. Once assured that she wasn't, Skan trotted back to the other furs. They were dragged to the den with a quickness, and once he arrived he piled them up next to the previously deposited furs. "I've got to go, Hesta. There's, uh. Something. I have to do." He couldn't run away fast enough, and missed seeing Hesta give a strange, limp-wristed wave as he left.
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There was much that could be said about Reaver Taraxa's family. He was growing old, and fat, and lazy. His sister had taken a female thrall to wife. His son had fathered a litter with his aunt's wife.