[PRP] Hunger Pains (Kitwana x Syél)

[SilverLutz]

Another sunrise, another sunset. To an outsider the Stormborn lands were as they always were, full of rowdy felines and noise. But to a local, to someone who had been born and raised here, or even someone that had recently joined and knew the way the prided worked it was easy to tell that something was wrong. The lands themselves hadn't changed physically, yet everywhere there were cries from dens as cubs went hungry despite more than enough milk, grown lions snarled and fought over food even though there was enough to go around, even the birds that flew over the lands cawed their hunger before moving on.

Kitwana limped away from what remained of the kills that the Thralls had brought back, bleeding from a wound inflicted by a hungry lioness that had decided she wanted the last bit of antelope. He bared his teeth in frustration as his thigh burned and his stomach ached, two very different types of pain battling for dominance in his mind. He couldn't understand it. He had eaten enough to make himself sick and yet he was still aching for more.

Something wasn't right, that much was certain, but what and why were two questions he couldn't answer.  

[mouselet]

As a cub, Syél had often wandered the pridelands with her head in the same clouds seen on her body, thinking of the outside world. She'd become a Reaver solely to see and experience that unknown. And, being something of an aimless dreamer as a child, the lioness had often missed meals. At this point she was accustomed to ignoring hunger, even though it hurt so badly, despite the fact that she actually had eaten not too long ago. It was always easier to ignore the pain and focus on the present.

She and Kitwana had agreed to do more work on cleaning out his den today. A great deal of progress had been made over the past several moons, but it was still slow going, as Syél didn't want to push too hard and the male was ridiculously stubborn about some of his miscellaneous items.

Here he came at last...bleeding. Syél frowned. Sure, the Myrsky Syntynyt valued strength, but the bloodbaths that were becoming common over the limited foods brought into the pride were stupid. How could they maintain their strength and defend their lands - and hunting grounds - if their Reavers were laid up with injuries over food fights? It was so stupid.

"I suppose we should tend that first, so you don't bleed on your precious possessions," she sighed aloud, going to lick Kitwana's leg to stop the bleeding.  

[SilverLutz]

Kitwana wasn't surprised when Syél was already at his den waiting to continue cleaning things up. It was better than it had been in a long time even though he found it hard to part with some of the things she was insisting were useless or stupid. Each time they went through his things his 'keep' pile became smaller and smaller which was the end goal, but it was hard to see his hard-won possessions be left for cub toys.

He didn't protest when she came to help stop the bleeding on his hind leg. It was in a tricky spot to reach himself and she was helping him quite a bit already, he wasn't beneath letting her help him in this way as well. And, if he were to look at it from a different viewpoint, it was what he would expect of a mate. Someone to help keep his den, make sure his wounds from Vikings healed up...

"They've been bloodied before," he 'argued' although his heart wasn't in it. Between his leg and his stomach his usual good nature was scarce, leaving him a bit surly instead.

"Thank you," he added, realizing he should at least accept her help kindly.  

[mouselet]

"It's probably a good thing we aren't cannibals," the lioness muttered as she went about her self-imposed job. She shook her head at Kitwana's argument against care, though she did puase as he thanked her.

"You're welcome," Syél replied simply. But, not content to let it rest there, the lioness continued, saying "it's best to get this clean now, so that you're not suffering from illness along with everything else."

Luckily, the wound wasn't too bad and the bleeding had quickly slowed. Soon enough it would clot and no longer attempt to dye the lion's dark fur. Straightening up, Syél considered her work. It looked fine.

"Well, having dealt with that...next up?" She gave Kitwana a speaking Look.  

[SilverLutz]

Kitwana snorted at the muttered comment but he couldn't help but agree. This strange hunger that had settled over them was concerning to say the least, but he was confident that no one would turn to trying to sate their hunger on the flesh of their fellow pride members.

He turned as she declared him done to the best of her ability, surveying her work. The cuts weren't deep but stung like he'd been branded, but at this point anything to distract him even a bit from his hunger was welcome.

"I suppose," he said, turning to look at his den with a sour expression. "Although I'm starting to wonder what's left to get rid of." All in all he'd say about two thirds of his possessions had been relinquished, leaving his den much more spacious and inviting to potential mates. The things he had left, however, were large and awkward in the space that was left like the antelope skull with the horns still attached. He'd woken up with that thing sticking into his back multiple times.  

[mouselet]

Syél looked into the den, then back at Kitwana, face covered in disdainful disbelief. Really, males could be so incredibly dense at times. The lioness shook her head and gestured at the skull.

"You might think about creating space to move in. And think about the fact that if you get a mate, you'll probably end up with cubs and do you really want them to hurt themselves on your things? Assuming they didn't outright break or destroy the stuff outright," Syél informed him dryly.

A lot of what was left were actually interesting to look at and could be used as ways to impress a lioness. But there was still too much of it.  

[SilverLutz]

Kitwana made a face at the mention of cubs destroying his stuff. While he did want a family, he didn't want them ruining his prized possessions. The endgame of attracting a mate with his belongings would be that his family would become his most prized possessions, but for now there was a fine line between making room to prepare for a mate and losing too much stuff so that he couldn't impress one. Ugh.

"No, I don't, but I don't have a mate right now," he argued, moving into his den to get to the skull. "Nor do I have cubs. I can't get rid of all of it, this is good stuff that we've got left here. I've been going a-Viking for years, I don't want to look like some neophyte that got lucky a few times." Even as he spoke he pushed the large skull out of the den, the horns clattering on the ground as it rolled.

"...this one is a bit large, though," he admitted even as he looked down fondly on the skull. "I suppose I could leave it outside the den with some rocks to hold it in place."