((so incredibly backdated~))
All her life, Turiya had long been fascinated by the Ithambo'hlabathi - not just because she had known her father ruled there, but because it was different. Because it was an option. Because if she'd been born brown or some other unacceptable color, rather than the red she'd been blessed with, it would have been the option. A no-brainer, if she'd been born a true huria.
Not that she hadn't grown up a huria anyway, as a result of her mother's unconventional decision to breed with an outsider, and her own suggestion that they all hold that rank until they were old enough to prove themselves. A naturally contrary youth, Turiya had often imagined how her duel would go: she would win, of course, but screw all this fuss and nonsense! She would prove just how good she was, make sure everyone knew what they would be missing, and saunter off to join their southern neighbors. In the end, though, she hadn't actually done that at all. She'd won her duel and kept right on being Firekin, because at the end of the day, she knew next to nothing about the Bonelands. Until very recently, the migratory pride had been in the southern portion of their lands, far out of reach.
Now, they were finally here, settled very near the Outpost, but Turiya's excitement had been gutted from her once word had spread that her father had been defeated and was long gone; while a part of her was let down that she would never have the opportunity to meet him, the greater part was just profoundly disappointed that he had lost. He had been bested in a fight, deposed, knowledge that crept in and sowed doubt within her. If he could lose, had Andhaka really been that strong, after all? Even though she and her sisters had already earned their place, there might be talk. Well, even if there ******** them," the heavily-striped lioness grumbled to herself, tail flicking irritably behind her. If anyone was stupid enough to doubt them, they'd regret it soon enough! Still, even without the allure of the father she'd never known, she was curious about their neighbors, and had made the trek to the Outpost hoping for a chance to meet them. She sat not far from the path that they would have to take to reach the spring, her tail lashing back and forth behind her in a mix of eagerness and impatience. Maybe that was what she got for being her so damned early in the morning, but come on already!
Finally, finally, a dark shape came into view along the path, and Turiya had to keep herself from leaping up like an excited cub. No, she took great care in ambling over to the spring for a drink, as though she hadn't been waiting all morning for someone, anyone, to show up for her to accost. Red eyes tracked up, observing the stranger with great interest and taking in details of her appearance - dark, but with a striped golden pelt draped across her back, and rather...well, rather on the small side. Hmm. When the foreigner came close, Turiya grunted a greeting. Nice and casual!
Khazine knew well that the red lioness was staring at her, because she was staring right back the whole time. She'd heard a lot about what the Bonelands lionesses called redpelts, and she liked what she'd heard. A whole pride full of warriors! Desert warriors! Like the home she'd been born to, but that fate had taken from her before she'd ever truly known it. The only trouble with this desert pride was that they were, apparently, very discerning about color, and so even if she'd wanted to, she would never be allowed entrance. But she could still look, at least, and maybe even have a decent fight against a lion she wasn't related to.
When the other lioness grunted at her - all tough-like, of course! - she grunted back as she dipped her head to lap once at the water for appearance's sake. After all, that wasn't why she was actually here.
"So you're what they look like down south," Turiya said after a long moment of mutual staring-while-pretending-not-to-be-that-interested.
Khazine lifted her head and drew back into a proud posture. "I'm only half from the south."
Well, well. There was a little bit of an attitude in this one. Good. "That so? So'm I, as it happens."
"Really?" the dappled lioness inquired, surprised.
"Mm," she affirmed, pausing a beat before revealing, "My father used to lead down there, apparently. Never met him or any of the rest of you, though."
"Oh, Andhaka?" There was certainly some resemblance, what with the red and the stripes, but this lioness had a lot more stripes than Andhaka had. She mulled over the situation for a moment before blurting out, "Mine beat yours. My father. Umkhombo."
Oh. Well then. Turiya blinked slowly at the smaller female, assessing this information. Gradually, a grin began to spread over her maw. "You have a name, Umkhombo's daughter?"
"Khazine bint Aribak," she supplied, regaining her lofty composure as she gave voice to her full name.
"That's one hell of a name," Turiya snorted. "You know how to fight, Khaz?" Signs pointed to yes, since she had a couple of scars and was missing half an ear, but she asked all the same.
"Yes!" Khazine answered, taking the stranger's meaning and fiercely eager about the implications.
"Good." The soldier nodded decisively. "Your sire might've beat mine, but we'll see how we go, eh? We can have our own little reenactment right here."
It was easy to see there wasn't real aggression or enmity in the suggestion, just an eagerness that mirrored her own, and Khazine followed Andhaka's daughter eagerly away from the water, barely able to contain the excitement that thrilled through her at the prospect of a fight...and not just any fight, but this fight! "Alright then! Let's go!"
The two circled each other for only a few seconds before bounding to close the distance and begin. It was going to be a long, perfect morning.