Voiboi
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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"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
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"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.