Beflecken was an adult now, a young adult, but still an adult none the less. He'd been feeling restless that he'd not yet gone out on his own viking adventure and claimed a thrall. All the young adult could think about was becoming a reaver like his father Thor. Heck, like most of the upstanding males in the pride who were reaver he wanted to be like them. Danger and adventure never scared him. Well the thought of danger and excitement never really scared him.

In all honesty, he'd never been in any real danger before save a few friendly viking tussles that may have gotten out of hand. Going out to prove him self a viking would be full of it, but the lion did not care much about his own safety. He was sure he'd be fine when the time came because he was of viking blood after all. At least he believed him self to be.

The major issue with Beflecken going out viking was that he was on the smaller side when it came to being compared to other vikings. That didn't mean the lion couldn't fight, he could, but he wasn't exactly impressive when compared to most vikings his own age. Little did Fleck know that this might have been because of his mysterious heritage. Fleck didn't actually spend a ton of time worrying about his size. He was more interested in getting better at fighting and proving him self to anyone who would bother with the time of day with him.

On the flip side Ushma was a lioness who could put an end to a fight pretty quickly. Some times ending them before they even started with just a glare from her eye. For a lioness, Ushma was scary looking. It wasn't just her mannerisms either but the way she carried her self with her attitude. Some how the lioness had been able to perfect her give no shits attitude and it showed in subtle ways.

It was on a very gloomy day that the two would meet on the rocky shores of the viking pride.

Fleck had decided today would be a good day to find a good claw sharpening stone. He busied him self knocking stones back and forth and climbing on some of the rocky boulders. He even dug through the sandy patches of the beach in search. You couldn't expect to be a good viking with dull claws. Not that Flecks claws were getting dull, they were fine, but one could never be too careful and Fleck had very high standards for what a sharpening stone should be. It needed to be the right weight and denseness. The lion paid no mind to the gray clouds rolling on in over head or the sounds of thunder off shore in the distance. Those sounds were almost normal background noise.

For a lioness such as Ushma, the display that Fleck was doing while looking for stones was quite strange. The lioness had set up camp on a nice soft sandy part of the shore and watched the younger male for some time. He was looking for something but Ushma for the love of it had no idea what it was. Possible he'd lost some kind of family heirloom or he was looking for tasty muscles or fish that washed up? Gods forbid he might be looking for craft materiel like some kind of flower blooded weirdo. Ushma had never really paid much mind to Fleck. He was an unimpressive male as far as she was concerned there for not worth the time to tally. But this display was quite interesting.

Possibly, it was when Fleck fell from a boulder in to the aggressive building waves of the sea that Ushma decided she'd go take a closer gander at just what the male was up to. Possibly make sure that he wasn't dead. Not that she cared. Like previously stated, for a viking, the male was a little too lean. She softly padded his way.

"You're not crafting like some lily liver weirdo are you?" The lioness found a comfortable boulder and made it hers by lying on top of the thing. Her gaze was condescending but interested. At least mildly so from what Fleck could gather.

Fleck had fallen from on top a boulder and was now laying on his side at the point the stormy dark waves licked the shore. The water had washed over him more than a few times by the time that Ushma had made her self known. At which point the male just gazed up at the female unsure how to respond. He'd just been insulted but as a viking you were expected to roll with insults and not be a p***y.

"Crafting. No." He managed getting the wind back in his lungs. The dark pelted lion managed to get back on his four paws. The white mane he sported by this point was completely drenched and hanging in his face giving him a more rugged washed up sea rat sort of look.

"Sharpening stones. I'm looking for one." There was no shame in admitting something so manly. He cared about his weapons of choice and having them ready when he needed them. Only the best would do.

Ushma raised a brow. There were stones that would do the trick all around them. Hell, the boulders would make fine work of any lions claws.

"Look around lad. You have your pick." She rolled to her side to watch the clouds instead. "Theres no need to be digging around like some stupid prey animal. Have some dignity."

Fleck by this point was shaking him self out to get his mane and fur dry, or as dry as possible given the constant exposure to the sea. He paid no mind to the fact that water was going to spray on to the likes of Ushma from him being so close. He also paid no mind to her words on dignity. As far as Fleck was concerned he had that. He just needed a good stone.

Ushma's brow knitted in annoyance at being sprayed by water from Fleck. Her teeth bared and she whipped her head in his direction.

"Trying to get your throat ripped out? Do that again and I-" She was hit in the face with sand. Fleck was blatantly ignoring her and continuing his way of doing things. Ushma's claws were out by this point and she was on top of Fleck. Fleck, being a bit small, was able to escape her grasp and run to the other side. The male gave her a curious tilt of the head before casually strolling to another section of the beach to continue what he was doing.

Ushma roared. This insult would be remembered. How dare he brush her off like that!

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