Perhaps it was arrogance, perhaps it was confidence. Perhaps there was such a thin line between the two that existed within the lion that they were one in the same. He was a fierce combatant with a pair of hardened paws and the build of a boulder. As a youth he had pushed himself to his limit and beyond with every spar he took on. He’d rile up lions that stunted him both in age and stature simply to throw himself into a physical gauntlet of sorts. Fear was the first obstacle that he over-came. To confront challenges, such as the larger, brawny lions of his pride took one of two things- courage and a complete lack of sense. Ning had one of those things, for he returned time and again to drive one of the pride’s males into a spar. Often times, this involved a sharp bite to the tail or a series of insults and snide remarks. Once or twice he went so far as to invading another lion’s den to snatch a trinket or a kill out from under them. This often resulted in a battered and bruised Ning limping back to his father’s commanding side.Courage was earned quickly enough. He no longer feared the pain of his elder’s paws, teeth, and claws but rather challenged himself to endure more and more of it. His father had been a massive lion who, at the time, he swore chewed rocks for breakfast. He expected the world of his only son and Ning fought not to disappoint him. As a young adolescent, he was among the strongest within the pride. He learned how to avoid the blows of his foes, he learned how to recognize moments of weakness and instability and to take advantage of them. He learned how to block pain out of his mind, how to endure, and most importantly- how to win.
The time he was forced to make a name for himself in the world, Ning was a force to be reckoned with. Knowing this, he attached a string of bells to himself, found in the remains of an abandoned human village along the dried out riverbed of his youth. The bells served as a both a warning and a challenge. All would hear him coming and have a choice presented to them- fight or flee. Ning didn’t want to dirty himself with anyone that would be coward enough to flee from him. It was those that answered the challenge of his bells that he sought out. Originally, his ploy was to form a pride for himself of powerful lions and eventually to occupy his own shoreline territory. As opponents became scarce, the notion of forming his own pride faded into nothing.
It was by chance that he happened upon the pirates. Like him, they were rowdy and free-spirited. They existed in a way that welcomed orderly chaos and his kind of spirit of competition. Strength was celebrated and rewarded, weakness was largely ignored. There were females with loyalties, sure, but from what he’d seen, many weren’t entirely written off to the affections of any one male. Flattery got a male everywhere with females and strength everywhere with the rest of the pride.
The problem hadn’t been joining. He fit in well enough among the pride and often enjoyed a roaring fit of laughter with the other males at sunset while he sat in the sands with his face to the sea. It was a good, comfortable life and one that he honestly couldn’t see being much better. There was one thing, however, that he had wanted upon his arrival that had its roots ingrained deep within his past- a position of power.
He knew himself to be a strong, confident lion and he was slowly working his way into the know of the pride, getting to know his companions. In his minds, he had the making of a captain but he lacked an essential ingredient- a crew. A crew would need to be carved out of the backs of passing rogues, if he could manage it, or earned through persistence with the younger pride members. Sadly, their numbers weren’t exactly impressive. From what he understood it was a very young pride with a small collection of lions. In order to form a crew he needed numbers. Numbers didn’t produce himself, not without a female anyway. Even then, he wouldn’t want an entire crew composed of his whelps. He’d need fresh blood, strong blood… perhaps his travels weren’t yet over.
Ning rolled over onto his back and stretched his great paws out above him, his broad chest swelling as he drew in a long breath of salty air and let it out in a thunderous sigh. Relaxing back against the sand he glanced upwards. If he were more poetical, he might have drifted off to find shapes in the sky or some other such nonsense. His mind, however, had a few things already harassing him. A crew. A woman. And a litter of whelps. It wasn’t a huge list, but it was a difficult one regardless.
He did have a lady in mind, however. The lovely little temptress he’d met on his first day upon his arrival to the lands. She was a pretty enough female, she had a good build, and a sharp enough wit. If their cubs took after the both of them, he might be in for real trouble. It would be yet another challenge.
Ning chuckled and scratched at a tuft of fur lining up along his chest. Now that opened up an entirely new game. He’d not wooed a female before, until now he really had no reason to. Living out in the wild was a game of survival. The fun stuff was reserved for those that had the opportunity to take such time, such energy, and had at least a little motivation towards introducing their genes into the gene pool. Until now he really had no reason to do any of that.
Word Count: 1,004