As she looked back, Davke felt a pair of yellow eyes watching her. They had been there for hours, from the minute she left her den to now when she was finishing training. It had taken time for her body to recover but now that it had she had taken to joining the young lionesses as they honed their hunting instincts. If she were to stay here, she supposed, she ought to learn to fight. Her skin prickled as she left the arena, feeling the eyes follow behind. She turned into the forest, slipping between tightly packed trees and passing lightly over the dead wood that littered the floor. Smiling as she heard a loud crash behind her, she spun to face her stalker. “Ah ha! You no spook me creepy thing.”
Creepy thing? Oddmund swore nonsense as he struggled to pull himself free from the collapsing matter than littered the forest floor. It seemed with each tug he fell deeper, the vines wrapping themselves tightly around his paws. One wrong step and down he went, his face smashing into the base of one of the still standing trees. “I ain’t tryin ta spook nobody,” he hissed, yanking himself free, “I was hopin ta speak to ya.” A poor choice that had been.
“Speak then,” the lioness told him, keeping her distance. It had served her well to be suspicious in the past, but now she wasn’t quite sure she had been careful enough. The male may well not have been alone. She’d left her back open, but she heard no others. A quick look back into the forest confirmed her assumption that they were now alone, and she used the knowledge to focus in now on the fumbling male. A spark of recognition crossed her face and she felt a small laugh slip past her lips. “I have seen this one before,” she said, poking a claw at him, “Muddier.”
“You have,” Oddmund assented, “When you was runnin. I ain’t killed ya then and I ain’t gonna kill ya now.” That much he could assure her off, although he couldn’t pretend not to be irate over the way he’d been tricked into this mess. With a grunt he finished freeing himself, settling down against one of the battered trunks. Absently he began to itch his back against the bark, the missing patches of fur in his coat riddled with irritated red splotches. “Ooh, you oughta try this,” he told her, hoping she’d relax once she realized he wasn’t out to murder her or worse, take her captive.
Davke wasn’t quite sure what to think. Better judgment told her to watch the male closely, but she found herself amused by his behavior. This was no grand and honorable reaver like the one she had first faced when challenging into the pride. Irritating perhaps, but no threat to her. She thought of leaving him behind, but she was curious what he had to say that was worth following her as he had. “Why I want do that?” she laughed, feeling her shoulders relax down as she kept her distance from him. Better safe than sorry, after all. “What you have to say?”
“Direct, I like it,” he said with what he thought was an endearing wink, his best attempt to win her over. What resulted instead was a very awkward expression that looked much more like he had a sty. The lion was anything but charming, much as he liked to think otherwise. A few years prior he might have had some spark of interest for the female set, but the time had worn heavy on him. His coat was a shambled mess, riddled with parasites and the results of living among the brush. His mane was missing whole sections, others pulled aside into rushed braids far from those carefully placed and worn by the reavers. And his face, well aside from his own attempts to look friendly, often looked as if he’d stuck his head inside an anthill with hives raised up from rubbing against less than favorable plant life. The sight was funny at best. “I ah, I was hopin you’d come out with me, watch the tide come in. Maybe.”
Fortunately for Oddmund, Davke needed a bit of lightness in her life. While she wasn’t sure quite what the lion was going for, she couldn’t help but crack at the face he had made. His proposition was certainly a new avenue for her. Even in her homeland she had never enjoyed the company of another in quite that way, always preferring to leave the romance to those more prepared than herself. She’d provide them with potions and charms to help love along its way, but it had never been for her. In truth she wasn’t sure it was something she even wanted for herself. “Listen fool boy, don’t go chasin me down like dat no more, and I watch your tide,” she bargained, figuring that the worst that could happen would be a scuffle not unlike those they’d had already. The waterfront was often populated by young love and fishers alike, it was a safe enough place to let him speak his piece if he was so demanding about it. Better than tripping over each other again and again at any rate.
Oddmund was taken aback by the response. He’d prepared for a no, even a very aggressive no, but a yes? He wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Well, ah, great then,” he managed to stammer, taking a few steps back away from her. “I’ll ah, tonight then. When the wind shifts, I’ll come an get ya.” With that he turned tail and rain, stumbling across the litter on his way out toward the dens. He had a lot of preparing to do.
Davke fell to laughs, watching the lion crash his way home. If she’d known before it was that simple to make him leave she’d have offered it up ages ago. It was good to be without a shadow for once. Although it did feel somewhat lonely. But wait, he had no idea where she lived, how was he to come for her? She thought to call after him but by then he was long gone. Well, he’d figure it out, she supposed, shaking her head as she stepped deeper into the forest. Until then she thought she ought to gather a little insurance policy in the form of some of her favorite altering herbs.
Word count: 1081
