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It wasn't the first time Fjäril had seen the green-winged lion around the pride, and neither was it the first time she had noticed him. He was extremely noticeable, bearing those characteristic markings and wearing insouciance like a cape. She had never thought herself the type to be interested in the scowling, broody type, but this lion was something else. Even his relative youth was not a negative factor in her golden eyes. A younger lion would have stamina and be interested in exploring fun and interesting sexual things. A younger lion who looked like Ruzul was also unlikely to be inexperienced, and that was a mark in his favor as well. Stormlords, it was almost embarrassing how strongly attracted to him she was. What made it worse, though, was not knowing if he was even aware of her existence, and the fact that she cared about something like that. It seemed like such a childish thing. And yet...

She was looking at him again. Ruzul couldn't have said how he knew it, but he knew it. He could feel the black and orange lioness's gaze flickering over him like a passing flame. A different kind of lion would have been awkward with the awareness, but Ruzul was not that sort. He was the sort who knew he was attractive, even though he was young, and who saw no reason not to use the good looks the Stormlords and his parents had given him. The only reason he hadn't acted on her interest yet was he had never actually been with a lioness before and he wasn't interested in being in the position of being tutored in the arts of romance, even if it was a fantasy she might be harbouring. Though, from the way she looked at him, he got the feeling she didn't think he was a virgin. That was another reason not to pursue her just yet. Not until he'd gotten some experience and could be certain he would not embarrass himself. Still, there was no reason he couldn't start laying the groundwork for their inevitable tryst.

Fjäril had become momentarily lost in daydreams of a more than somewhat lurid nature featuring herself and the warlord's b*****d son. Even without a full mane he was so strong and sleek looking. The idea of him moving over her and inside her was enough to make her want to pant and crouch for him right here and now. But this was a public arena, and she had her pride. Also she had an audience, and that was a problem. Though, most likely, she was giving off all kinds of pheromones courtesy of her salacious fantasizing, so it might be for the best if she made herself scarce and took a bath until her hormones were under control. It wasn't as if she could remember what she had been doing before, anyway. Whatever it was probably hadn't been all that important. She had no opportunity to retreat, however, because just as she was about to do so, he looked directly at her, making deliberate eye contact that pinned her to her spot.

Well, that had been unexpectedly easy, and extremely gratifying. Whatever concerns Ruzul may have had about the fact he had yet to go on a viking were allayed somewhat by the realization that he could, if he so desired, render an attractive lioness immobile just by looking at her a certain way. Pity he couldn't remember exactly how he had looked at her, so he could do it again with other lionesses. No matter. He would figure it out. In the mean time, he had her staring at him with an expression between apprehension and anticipation. It was a heady feeling, and he could not resist the urge to keep it going by actually approaching her and speaking to her. He wanted to see how much more of an effect he could have on her. Briefly he entertained the thought of trying to sweet talk her into an immediate tryst, his own inexperience be damned. First, though, he had to actually say something. He was pretty sure he wasn't good enough to get her to go off with him without first exchanging at least a few words.

Fjäril watched with some trepidation and a hint of a quiver around her heart-stomach area as the warlord's black and green son strolled over to her with an easy confidence that probably should have made her nervous, but instead actually put her at ease. He knew what he was about, and what he wanted, and for Fjäril that made things easier. She was, at heart, a people pleaser, and if he was clear about what would please him, and if what would please him just so happened to also be something that would please her, it would be all the more pleasant for her. For both of them, she hoped. When he greeted her she had to concentrate on subtly releasing the breath she'd been holding since he began walking in her direction. She didn't want him to know she'd been holding her breath in some lame kind of anticipation. A people pleaser she was, but she had her pride, too, and that required putting on at least a show of nonchalance in this situation. After all, Ruzul wasn't even an adult yet.

"It is a good day to die," Ruzul greeted the older lioness. This close he could actually detect the scent of her interest. It appealed to him to think that he had produced that sort of a reaction in an attractive older lioness like this one, who had to be accustomed to older, higher-ranked lions than himself with more experiences of, well, all sorts. It was flattering. But despite the fact he could smell her interest in him, there were some conventions to be followed because this was a magical world where lions talked and had complex societies instead of simply bowing to their biological urges willy-nilly like beasts in the field. Knowing that didn't mean that it became significantly easier to make himself add anything to his greeting right away. He was, after all, young. Making connections with attractive strangers was not something that came naturally to him. Yet. "I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Ruzul Ruzskison. I would very much like to know your name."

After returning his greeting Fjäril fell silent, not sure what else she ought to say to a lion she had never officially met. She knew something of his history, of course. Probably many lions in the pride did, given the dramatic nature of his family situation. But that was hardly something to begin an acquaintance on. Well, if they'd both been boys and she hadn't been hoping to have sex with him at some point in the not-too-distant future, she could've begun with that, but that wasn't the case. So she was relieved when he took the burden of making her acquaintance upon himself and introduced himself and then inquired about her name. "I'm Fjäril," she answered him. It's good to meet you, Ruzul Ruzskison." She had no family name to add after the name Fjäril. She had been named Fjäril by the lion who had captured her and after becoming freeborn she had not thought to add anything to her name. Now she wondered if she should have done.

Ruzul smiled, pleased with himself and his victory, even though it was only a small one, merely learning a lioness's name. Nevertheless, his smile was cocky and triumphant as he said, "It is very good to meet you, Fjäril. I hope that we have occasion to see each other more in the future." Stormlords, he sounded like he had a stick up his arse. "No doubt you hear this all the time, Fjäril, but you are astonishingly beautiful. I couldn't help noticing that." Ugh! The stick was still there and now he sounded sleazy and skeevy as well. Maybe he shouldn't have felt so pleased with himself after all. "Anyway, I really just felt very strongly that I ought to say something to you. Unfortunately, I didn't give a whole lot of thought to what I'd be saying. Obviously. Maybe we could try this again, maybe in a few days when I've had the opportunity to put some more thought into my conversation?" And now he just sounded like a moron. Definitely he had celebrated too soon.

Fjäril's smile was not triumphant, but it was genuinely delighted. She was genuinely delighted. Ruzul thought she was beautiful. He was correct in surmising that she did frequently hear that she was beautiful, although it was rarely phrased that way, and it had not been recently. At least not coming from a male. Shallan reminded her that she was attractive on a pretty regular basis, but that was not the same at all. At any rate, she wasn't offended by the fact he thought she was attractive. And she couldn't help but be charmed by his almost-awkward conversation and invitation to spend more time together. When he had the opportunity to put more thought into his conversation. "I think that would be a fine thing, Ruzul. There are some ruins an hour's walk from the stronghold. We could meet there around noontime two days hence." That should give her enough time to work through all her nerves.

Ruzul nodded with as much coolness and nonchalance as he could summon up. He had a date. With a beautiful older lioness. In two days. There was a colossal part of him which said he had to get away right now so that he could start preparing for their date. But, of course he couldn't do that. Instead he agreed to her proposed outing, expressed his pleasure at the prospect, and then bid Fjäril farewell. He might've told her something about needing to train, which wasn't untrue. But the training he needed was not martial, but sexual. He had to bone up on, er, boning. And as quickly as possible. As he left, he was already compiling a list of people he could easily convince to have enough sex with him in the next two days that he would put on a good show with Fjäril. Being young and in lust was so absurdly complicated sometimes.