The young blue female sighed softly as she padded along, the scathing tones of one of the elder Busisa ringing in her ears. Words that she herself would never dare use, would never want to use on another. But it seemed they were ok when attached to her… Shaking her head to get her long silky blue forelock out of her eyes she lifted her head, glancing round at the sandy browns and tans of the landscape. So she didn’t fit in with the rest of them… so what? She could hunt just as well as any lioness her age, and if her blue fur was a disadvantage she had obviously adapted to it as she didn’t miss any more kills than the average adolescent. Wrinkling her nose she sighed heavily. She hadn’t understood when she had been younger, but the bigger she grew the louder the whispers got, and now some of the pride had taken to denouncing her out loud.
She had considered leaving, just running off into the roguelands and seeking out her father. But Gran Najalo was here, and her sister… and damnit, she would not be run off by a bunch of twittering old bags! Snorting with the unusual burst of confused anger in her chest she took a deep breath, letting it out in another sigh. One day they would stop talking about her like she had the plague… she would make them accept her, and make them approve of her!