Voiboi
Back to the oasis to lick his wounds. Voiboi couldn't help being in a foul mood at this point. To all appearances it had seemed like he would be successful in capturing that dark lion with the red mane, but then he'd squirmed away and fled. That the other lion had escaped was bad enough, but the fact that he, Voiboi, was not permitted to pursue him, even though he was wounded and would undoubtedly be easily found and brought down, was more annoying. The captain would be getting an earful over this, no question about it.Half a day of alternating between baking under the sun and soaking in the water of the oasis did little to improve the reaver's mood. If anything, it just made it worse. He speculated that the others in his band had all met with significantly more success, and that they would laugh if they found out about this episode. Voiboi didn't mind making people laugh, but he wanted them laughing with him, and not at him.
Maybe the Stormlords would send another lion his way. This one female and pretty.
Vasall
He missed his friend Dierk. True, Dierk was only a wild dog, but the two of them had enjoyed many of the same things, and they had been good friends. They had also found it privately amusing how similar their markings were, and used to joke that they were brothers from different mothers. What that said about their supposedly shared father's taste in women was not flattering, but it was funny.But Dierk had been called back to his home pride. Pack. Whatever. It was a strange pack, and trying to figure out how it worked was just much too much effort. Apparently it was an all male pack, and you could be of any species and be part of it, but you had to be male. And they were all boy lovers. Older or stronger ones were paired to younger or less experienced ones and they trained as warriors.
Dierk had offered to bring his friend home with him and show him around, but that wasn't really the lion's scene. He wasn't a violent creature by nature, except when it came to bringing down prey, naturally. Generally speaking, he found there were few things worth fighting over.
Voiboi
It was not a pretty female, as it turned out. The Stormlords were clearly no better pleased by this plan of Tallskog's than Voiboi was, though why they should take their displeasure out on Voiboi instead of Tallskog, who deserved it, was a mystery to the butter-colored reaver. It didn't really matter, he supposed, as he stalked the brown lion approaching the oasis.From his gait, the lion was too confident to be lost. He knew about the oasis, then, and had come to it on purpose. Probably he wasn't part of a pride, in that case, since a pride would have just settled by the oasis. Voiboi was determined that this time he would not allow his quarry to escape. Last time he had held back, not wanting to maim a new thrall unnecessarily, but he would not be so restrained in this case.
As the newcomer reached the edge of the water Voiboi gathered his hind paws beneath him, his muscles coiling in preparation before he plunged forward in attack.
Vasall
Unsuspecting, the lion lowered his white chin to the water and began to drink. The water was not cool, but it was clear and clean and that was good enough. Really, he had never understood why some people insisted that their water be cold along with uncontaminated. He'd even known a few people - lions who had no pride for the most part - who insisted that their water be in motion. They said it was more likely to be clean that way, but mostly it just meant that they batted at it to make ripples before they would drink. It was kind of stupid.No, as long as the water was potable, this lion was not picky about much else. It came from living in a pride with too many lions and not quite enough resources to go around. Picky eating was discouraged. He remembered how his father had raged at him when he turned up his nose at a hare that had turned. One of his littermates had been worse, and she'd gotten a hiding for her delicate sensibilities. Thinking of her made him sad, since she had left the pride some seasons ago to get away from their father's brutality, she said.
He was completely, stupidly oblivious to his surroundings.
Voiboi
Voiboi attacked. He jerked forward, his body moving gracelessly at first, but acquiring a powerful precision after a few strides. It was not a stealthy attack, given the way his paws pounded on the ground, but it was fast. Unless the lion at the water had freakishly fast reflexes, there was almost no possibility that he would be able to do more than lift his head in alarm.Voiboi watched, in fact, as his quarry did exactly that. Then he was too close to see much, being nearly on top of the darker lion. As he had done with the red-maned b*****d, Voiboi took advantage of his superior size and weight to pin his opponent to the ground. This time, though he had the water of the oasis to put to work toward his advantage, and he did. Using both of his front paws and the weight of his head, neck, and chest, Voiboi forced the other lion's head down and into the water.
It would be interesting to see how this tactic worked out, he had decided.
Vasall
It was true that he had heard the heavy footfalls, but he had not realized that he would be coming under attack until it was much too late for him to do anything. His body instinctively jerked away from his attacker, but not fast enough and not far enough. In a matter of moments his head was forced down and water covered his face.Of course he struggled against this treatment, but the lion holding him down was larger and stronger and held a much better position. It probably would have been best to simply give up and allow himself to be drowned, but that was not his nature, and subconsciously he doubted that he would really be killed. This wasn't how things were done. This was an act of aggression, but it needn't be a fatal one.
So he fought back, struggling, flailing, and splashing water everywhere without actually producing any measurable effect.
Voiboi
Eventually Voiboi felt the black-maned lion go limp as he ran out of air. Only then did he dig his claws into the lion's tan flesh and yank him from the water. He didn't want to drown the other lion, after all. He had just wanted to make sure that he was in no condition to run or fight. It was not, perhaps, the most traditional way to do things, but it was cleverer, and the pride held cleverness in high esteem, too.At first his capture didn't seem to be breathing, but Voiboi did not make the mistake of leaning in to make sure whether there was or was not breath. That kind of thing got a person into bad situations very, very quickly. Instead he stomped on the white belly, causing his new thrall to cough up a small amount of water. Not dead, then.
"Get up," he ordered the sodden lion once he had made sure he hadn't killed him. "Don't make me repeat myself, thrall."
Vasall
Air! He couldn't seem to get enough of it, and he gulped it down in vast, panting swallows. There was pain in his stomach, but he didn't remember why. He hadn't been conscious for that, after all. He did remember being nearly drowned, however, and he was no fool.With an effort, he dragged himself to his feet.
"To trap or attack a lion at the only oasis for days is a dishonorable thing," he gasped, coughing around the words. "It is the treatment reserved for prey."
Probably it was stupid to make these points now, when he was barely able to stand, but he could guess what had befallen him. He had been enslaved. This would likely be his only chance to talk his way out of it, and so he had to try. It was simply not possible for him to attempt to escape. Not in this state.
Voiboi
Voiboi looked incredulously at the lion who shared his dark brown eyes. He actually thought he was in a position to lecture Voiboi on proper conduct? That was completely ridiculous. Laughably so."What makes you think I regard you as any higher than prey?" he asked. It was a rhetorical question. "Let me assure you, I do not."
One wet paw shot out and struck his capture across the cheek, scoring him but missing the eyes. "Do not think to question me, or any other freeborn lion again. You are a thrall of the Stormborn now, and your life henceforth will be one of servitude and submission."
He watched for signs that the thrall was going to bolt or attack, but he didn't seem to have it in him. Flower-blooded outlander. "For your new life, I give you a new name. Vasall. In the language of my pride, it means liege man. See that you are worthy of it."
Vasall
The lion stumbled with the force of the impact. It felt as though his cheek had been broken, although he knew it had not been. He wasn't sure if the fact that the yellow lion's claws had missed his eye had been by accident or design, but he was relieved."Vasall," he agreed obediently. "I understand."
"What happens now?" he wanted to ask, but he didn't want to earn himself another smack like that last one. It still hurt, and he still felt faintly dizzy. His compliance was born of self-preservation more than any innate submissive tendencies. Right now he was in a position of weakness. A thrall, apparently. Things could change though, and until they did, he would bide his time.