Post by Sinyaa on Jul 7, 2006 20:31:55 GMT -5
Zira gives birth to her first litter, and it's anything but a happy family moment.
---
With an anguished roar that turns into a wheezing pant, Zira lies on the cold stone floor of the pridal cavern, ebony claws dug into the granite as far as physically possible. Why any lioness would want to have litter upon litter of cubs is beyond her. Her fur matted down with sweat, her crimson eyes are dazed and wild, pupils dilated as they turn to gaze towards the cave entrace, sighting the father of this particular litter. Meeting his eyes briefly, she tiredly shifts her body so that she can begin grooming each cub in turn, looking each of the four over as she does such.
A roar is heard from (/Mbaamwezi\) - Pridal Cavern, Zira's call echoes all over Mbaamwezi.
Already being led towards the cavern by a decidedly ornery weaverbird, Scar's gaunt features are drawn taut with a sneer of irritation. As the roar echoes out of the opening, the need to linger with the bird evaporates and Scar's pace quickens into a militant trot that carries him through the threshold and towards the birthing.
As the rough tongue moves over the damp fur of the ruddy brown cub, he squirms slightly. His tiny muzzle parts as a soft mewling sound is emitted. Why was it so cold all of a sudden? What was happening to him? His sounds become increasingly louder as he tries to make sense of all this...as much as a newborn can.
"You're late," Zira growls between quick pants, not even looking up from the task at hand as she speaks. As she reaches the runt of the litter, her tongue cleaning his wet fur, she pauses to consider the litter as a whole. Scarlet eyes finally return to Scar, twinged with partially-hidden disappointment. "Three girls...one boy." She pauses, not yet revealing which cub is Scar's sole male heir.
"Forgive the insolence of your 'guide.'" Scar smoothly rolls the word off of his tongue as he glides towards the lioness and litter. His ambitious eyes eagerly dart between the newborns, searching for a male. "Are none of them male?"
Leaning into his three littermates, the cub continues his mewling. Surely someone around him must be listening? As the heat coming off the others begins to soak into his own body, the cries lessen....but do not cease. No, this young cub is a persistant one.
Lifting a paw, the Queen Mother pushes the only male cub away from her belly, as if refusing to allow the runt to nurse alongside his sisters. "/That/ is your son." A sneer flickers briefly on her maw as she retracts her paw from the newborn. "He shall be the first cub to be named - which isn't typical for a last-born runt," Zira cynically hisses. "He will be called 'Nuka'. I do not want his stench to taint his better-formed siblings." Dangerous words, they are. But if this is the best heir Scar can produce...Zira will have to find a more suitable male for her next litter.
"A 'runt?'" Scar repeats Zira's words, his muzzle curling into a flabbergasted sneer. The lean male circles the grouping until he lowers his head to his new son, giving him a few disappointed sniffs before turning a glare towards Zira. "Your own weaknesses have corrupted your soul so far it seeped into 'this.'" He snarls, his paw held out to give Nuka a poke. "Are you incapable of producing an heir, Zira?"
And just like that, Nuka is abruptly rejected from his mother. Most certainly this wont be the last time, either. Instinct tells him to try and cling to the source of heat, but as his mothers paw retracts away, Nuka is left in the open. The cries become more desperate, until a sharp claw pokes at his side. The newborn is silent for a brief moment, as he tries to wrap his tiny brain around the source of momentary pain. Then, the mewling continues once more.
Zira roars once again, this time with more power behind it since she's had a few moments to rest. "/I/ am not the one responsible for this /pitiful/ excuse for an heir, Scar! If I were, then wouldn't my daughters be just as disgusting in appearance?!" she snarls, gesturing angrily towards the three females at her belly. It makes sense to her - the females came from the mother's side, the male from the father. "I /will/ have a male heir for my pride. And if you cannot produce such an heir, then I must take my chances with another," she growls, eyes narrowed to slits. For Zira to be such a commanding female force, it's surprising she wouldn't just select a female to replace her as queen - but this vow is more of a retaliation against Scar in the heat of the moment. And she knows just the lion to approach for a stronger, fitter cub.
And like that, the kittys pop. If its not one thing, its another. Sihr had spent some time with Seifer and her litter, checking to make sure the cubs were healthy and so was the mother. Of course, the Gorilla was somewhat hesitant to leave the crimson locked female with her cubs .... Sihr had a feeling Seifer would dispose of them if she got the chance. Oh well, not her worry. She'd heard on the wind that Zira had as well dropped her cubs, and thats exactly where she's headed. The large primate usually never got near the pridal cavern, but there she is in the entrance, dark eyes focused on Scar for the breifest of moments, and then Zira at her outburst. Whatever they were arguing about, she could care less. Seemed Zira was fine for the most part. The Gorilla moves past the lion without so much as a glance, lowering her face to each individual cub, eyes narrowing. Grunt.
"I've already sired a healthy male, Zira. The distortion lies within /your/ blood." Scar growls back in retaliation. The litter gets another appraising glance before a resigned huff escapes his disgruntled maw. "Regardless of his taint, he must be raised properly. d**n the fates, his failure may not yet be final." A less malevolent glance slowly falls towards the queen as options are considered. "Our previous connections are henceforth severed, this is a potent enough omen and I am /not/ unwise enough to ignore it. However-" Loathe as he is to admit it, his plans are flimsy without backing. "Mufasa must be toppled. I may have to raise a force myself, as for your pride...I imagine we have a common goal."
All these loud noises and lack of warmth was really agitating the tiny cub. Nuka's cries increase in pitch until it becomes almost a whine. Isn't /someone/ going to pay attention to him? He's cold, and hungry! With a light shiver, Nuka's tiny limbs splay out and attempt to propel him towards his mother...but it really gets him nowhere.
As Sihr approaches her litter, Zira motions towards Nuka. "That one needs a bath. If Scar doesn't want to bathe him, then you can just toss him in the waterhole," she comments nonchalantly. In this case, if the mother throws the baby out with the bathwater, it doesn't seem very likely that it was a mistake. But for all her bark, there must be /some/ miniscule amount of mothering instinct buried deep inside of her, as she shoves the crying cub back towards her with an exasperated look on her muzzle. Only then does she return her attentions to Scar. "Oh? What other lioness could possibly go through what I have, and not even for the purposes of producing an heir?" she snaps in response. Nothing is said in regards to Mufasa yet.
Sihr regards Zira with a steady look before grunting and pushing herself back. The cubs all looked healthy, and she decided after she was done feeding, Sihr would bathe the small male. The large primate grunts deeply as she rocks herself back upon her rump, leather nose crunching up breifly as she eyes the male with a smidgen of curiosity. At Zira mentioning another lioness the healer clicks her teeth, "Seifer gave birth, aparently right around the time you be. Three daughters," she rummbles in more of a 'report' then anything resembling excited gossip. Sihr's a healer, not a nanny, and she expects them to remember that. The gorilla doesn't mind to /accidently lose/ a cub in the jungle. Hrr.
"One unfortunate enough to fall beneath a thunder of hooves." Scar says with what, to the untrained eye, might be mistaken for a sentimental frown. "How /fortuitous/ of us both that /you/ decided to raise him." His muzzle breaks into a jagged, meaningful smile.
"Good for her. I'm sure Sytobi is thrilled," Zira replies dryly. "Perhaps when my heir is born, I'll select one of them as a betrothal for him," she adds, obviously ruling out Nuka with that first part of the statement - he's already born, after all. Scar's statements are, for the most part, ignored with a roll of the eyes. "If you'll excuse me, I need to...bond with my cubs. We can discuss Mufasa when I've recovered." Said as if pregnancy were a disease.
There's a somewhat amused grin that actually unfolds upon the gorilla's face at the mention of Sytobi being thrilled. Not if he walks in that cavern with the mood Seifer was in when she left. She was liable to rip him limb from limb. Aparently she's not a motherly type. hm. You could /never/ tell. Sihr shifts her weight slightly to get more comfortable and casts a emotionless glance down to the cubs. Grunt. She had stuff to do. She pushes herself up and turns towards the Mbaamwezi Queen. "I have things i need to attend to. If you feel ill, health wise," she doesn't want to hear any complaining unless its health related, "Send someone to find me. I'll be back later if you still want him," eyes glance down, "To have a bath." She doesn't give Scar a glance as she moves herself towards the entrance.
With the shove, Nuka is returned back to his littermates. The cries abruptly stop as he cuddles into the other three nursing, and clean, femalecubs. The runt manages to wedge himself inbetween two of his sisters, and attempts to feed himself, which looks like it's proving to be a difficult task.
Primitives. The refined prince is surrounded by primitives. Scar lifts his head and lets out a dissatisfied snort as his gaze shifts about the cavern. He never much cared for 'slumming it' anyway. "If you wish to discard the failure, rest assured, I would be willing to make use of him." He says as if he's a charitable beast, a forepaw raising to his chestruff theatrically. Because Scar is /such/ a giving soul. Offer placed on the table, the dark pridelander slowly turns to snake his way out of the cave.
Zira simply settles her head down on her forepaws, exhausted from the birth and the argument that ensued afterwards. Once she's taken a quick nap, and allowed the cubs their fill of milk, she'll leave the cubs in Ismitta's care while she visits an old "friend" (to use the term loosely) in order to take care of...royal business.
---
With an anguished roar that turns into a wheezing pant, Zira lies on the cold stone floor of the pridal cavern, ebony claws dug into the granite as far as physically possible. Why any lioness would want to have litter upon litter of cubs is beyond her. Her fur matted down with sweat, her crimson eyes are dazed and wild, pupils dilated as they turn to gaze towards the cave entrace, sighting the father of this particular litter. Meeting his eyes briefly, she tiredly shifts her body so that she can begin grooming each cub in turn, looking each of the four over as she does such.
A roar is heard from (/Mbaamwezi\) - Pridal Cavern, Zira's call echoes all over Mbaamwezi.
Already being led towards the cavern by a decidedly ornery weaverbird, Scar's gaunt features are drawn taut with a sneer of irritation. As the roar echoes out of the opening, the need to linger with the bird evaporates and Scar's pace quickens into a militant trot that carries him through the threshold and towards the birthing.
As the rough tongue moves over the damp fur of the ruddy brown cub, he squirms slightly. His tiny muzzle parts as a soft mewling sound is emitted. Why was it so cold all of a sudden? What was happening to him? His sounds become increasingly louder as he tries to make sense of all this...as much as a newborn can.
"You're late," Zira growls between quick pants, not even looking up from the task at hand as she speaks. As she reaches the runt of the litter, her tongue cleaning his wet fur, she pauses to consider the litter as a whole. Scarlet eyes finally return to Scar, twinged with partially-hidden disappointment. "Three girls...one boy." She pauses, not yet revealing which cub is Scar's sole male heir.
"Forgive the insolence of your 'guide.'" Scar smoothly rolls the word off of his tongue as he glides towards the lioness and litter. His ambitious eyes eagerly dart between the newborns, searching for a male. "Are none of them male?"
Leaning into his three littermates, the cub continues his mewling. Surely someone around him must be listening? As the heat coming off the others begins to soak into his own body, the cries lessen....but do not cease. No, this young cub is a persistant one.
Lifting a paw, the Queen Mother pushes the only male cub away from her belly, as if refusing to allow the runt to nurse alongside his sisters. "/That/ is your son." A sneer flickers briefly on her maw as she retracts her paw from the newborn. "He shall be the first cub to be named - which isn't typical for a last-born runt," Zira cynically hisses. "He will be called 'Nuka'. I do not want his stench to taint his better-formed siblings." Dangerous words, they are. But if this is the best heir Scar can produce...Zira will have to find a more suitable male for her next litter.
"A 'runt?'" Scar repeats Zira's words, his muzzle curling into a flabbergasted sneer. The lean male circles the grouping until he lowers his head to his new son, giving him a few disappointed sniffs before turning a glare towards Zira. "Your own weaknesses have corrupted your soul so far it seeped into 'this.'" He snarls, his paw held out to give Nuka a poke. "Are you incapable of producing an heir, Zira?"
And just like that, Nuka is abruptly rejected from his mother. Most certainly this wont be the last time, either. Instinct tells him to try and cling to the source of heat, but as his mothers paw retracts away, Nuka is left in the open. The cries become more desperate, until a sharp claw pokes at his side. The newborn is silent for a brief moment, as he tries to wrap his tiny brain around the source of momentary pain. Then, the mewling continues once more.
Zira roars once again, this time with more power behind it since she's had a few moments to rest. "/I/ am not the one responsible for this /pitiful/ excuse for an heir, Scar! If I were, then wouldn't my daughters be just as disgusting in appearance?!" she snarls, gesturing angrily towards the three females at her belly. It makes sense to her - the females came from the mother's side, the male from the father. "I /will/ have a male heir for my pride. And if you cannot produce such an heir, then I must take my chances with another," she growls, eyes narrowed to slits. For Zira to be such a commanding female force, it's surprising she wouldn't just select a female to replace her as queen - but this vow is more of a retaliation against Scar in the heat of the moment. And she knows just the lion to approach for a stronger, fitter cub.
And like that, the kittys pop. If its not one thing, its another. Sihr had spent some time with Seifer and her litter, checking to make sure the cubs were healthy and so was the mother. Of course, the Gorilla was somewhat hesitant to leave the crimson locked female with her cubs .... Sihr had a feeling Seifer would dispose of them if she got the chance. Oh well, not her worry. She'd heard on the wind that Zira had as well dropped her cubs, and thats exactly where she's headed. The large primate usually never got near the pridal cavern, but there she is in the entrance, dark eyes focused on Scar for the breifest of moments, and then Zira at her outburst. Whatever they were arguing about, she could care less. Seemed Zira was fine for the most part. The Gorilla moves past the lion without so much as a glance, lowering her face to each individual cub, eyes narrowing. Grunt.
"I've already sired a healthy male, Zira. The distortion lies within /your/ blood." Scar growls back in retaliation. The litter gets another appraising glance before a resigned huff escapes his disgruntled maw. "Regardless of his taint, he must be raised properly. d**n the fates, his failure may not yet be final." A less malevolent glance slowly falls towards the queen as options are considered. "Our previous connections are henceforth severed, this is a potent enough omen and I am /not/ unwise enough to ignore it. However-" Loathe as he is to admit it, his plans are flimsy without backing. "Mufasa must be toppled. I may have to raise a force myself, as for your pride...I imagine we have a common goal."
All these loud noises and lack of warmth was really agitating the tiny cub. Nuka's cries increase in pitch until it becomes almost a whine. Isn't /someone/ going to pay attention to him? He's cold, and hungry! With a light shiver, Nuka's tiny limbs splay out and attempt to propel him towards his mother...but it really gets him nowhere.
As Sihr approaches her litter, Zira motions towards Nuka. "That one needs a bath. If Scar doesn't want to bathe him, then you can just toss him in the waterhole," she comments nonchalantly. In this case, if the mother throws the baby out with the bathwater, it doesn't seem very likely that it was a mistake. But for all her bark, there must be /some/ miniscule amount of mothering instinct buried deep inside of her, as she shoves the crying cub back towards her with an exasperated look on her muzzle. Only then does she return her attentions to Scar. "Oh? What other lioness could possibly go through what I have, and not even for the purposes of producing an heir?" she snaps in response. Nothing is said in regards to Mufasa yet.
Sihr regards Zira with a steady look before grunting and pushing herself back. The cubs all looked healthy, and she decided after she was done feeding, Sihr would bathe the small male. The large primate grunts deeply as she rocks herself back upon her rump, leather nose crunching up breifly as she eyes the male with a smidgen of curiosity. At Zira mentioning another lioness the healer clicks her teeth, "Seifer gave birth, aparently right around the time you be. Three daughters," she rummbles in more of a 'report' then anything resembling excited gossip. Sihr's a healer, not a nanny, and she expects them to remember that. The gorilla doesn't mind to /accidently lose/ a cub in the jungle. Hrr.
"One unfortunate enough to fall beneath a thunder of hooves." Scar says with what, to the untrained eye, might be mistaken for a sentimental frown. "How /fortuitous/ of us both that /you/ decided to raise him." His muzzle breaks into a jagged, meaningful smile.
"Good for her. I'm sure Sytobi is thrilled," Zira replies dryly. "Perhaps when my heir is born, I'll select one of them as a betrothal for him," she adds, obviously ruling out Nuka with that first part of the statement - he's already born, after all. Scar's statements are, for the most part, ignored with a roll of the eyes. "If you'll excuse me, I need to...bond with my cubs. We can discuss Mufasa when I've recovered." Said as if pregnancy were a disease.
There's a somewhat amused grin that actually unfolds upon the gorilla's face at the mention of Sytobi being thrilled. Not if he walks in that cavern with the mood Seifer was in when she left. She was liable to rip him limb from limb. Aparently she's not a motherly type. hm. You could /never/ tell. Sihr shifts her weight slightly to get more comfortable and casts a emotionless glance down to the cubs. Grunt. She had stuff to do. She pushes herself up and turns towards the Mbaamwezi Queen. "I have things i need to attend to. If you feel ill, health wise," she doesn't want to hear any complaining unless its health related, "Send someone to find me. I'll be back later if you still want him," eyes glance down, "To have a bath." She doesn't give Scar a glance as she moves herself towards the entrance.
With the shove, Nuka is returned back to his littermates. The cries abruptly stop as he cuddles into the other three nursing, and clean, femalecubs. The runt manages to wedge himself inbetween two of his sisters, and attempts to feed himself, which looks like it's proving to be a difficult task.
Primitives. The refined prince is surrounded by primitives. Scar lifts his head and lets out a dissatisfied snort as his gaze shifts about the cavern. He never much cared for 'slumming it' anyway. "If you wish to discard the failure, rest assured, I would be willing to make use of him." He says as if he's a charitable beast, a forepaw raising to his chestruff theatrically. Because Scar is /such/ a giving soul. Offer placed on the table, the dark pridelander slowly turns to snake his way out of the cave.
Zira simply settles her head down on her forepaws, exhausted from the birth and the argument that ensued afterwards. Once she's taken a quick nap, and allowed the cubs their fill of milk, she'll leave the cubs in Ismitta's care while she visits an old "friend" (to use the term loosely) in order to take care of...royal business.
