It was hot. Hot enough that Hila almost wished she was back home, where, if nothing else, the sea breeze was likely to have made the heat at least somewhat bearable. Instead, she found herself on a viking with a number of lions...none of whom she knew well.
On the upside, the captain (an older male who insisted they simply call him "Djae" ) didn't seem incompetent - something she was grateful for, since she was determined to get as much experience as possible as fast as possible, for when she grew up and captained her own band...someday.
Unfortunately, Djae had brought them to what she was privately calling a god-forsaken corner of hell. The canyon was dusty, it was hot, and the only thing in sight was rock, so there wasn't even any shade in which to get a moment's respite from the sun overhead.
Much as she would have liked to slack off, like most of the other males in the viking party were, her pride prevented it - and she had a feeling that, if she did, she'd get a bunch of side-eyes, and muttered comments about how a lioness just wasn't cut out for going on a viking. So she slowly worked her way back to where Djae was, finding only a few traces of other creatures in the area...and those were all old.
She reached the older captain's side, looking down into the valley below, and opened her mouth to ask where he wanted her to go search next, when a sharp...agonized cry sliced through the air. She didn't even wait for his nod before darting off in the direction it had come from, noting with no small amount of annoyance how slow the rest of the party was to start moving in the same direction. Lazy ******** bastards. She thought critically, feeling a small stab of satisfaction when Djae told the "lazy whoresons to get a ******** move on". The canyon path was steep, rocky and narrow, and windy enough that it was a wonder that she didn't tumble to her death in her rush.
Coming around a corner, full-tilt, she froze at the sight that greeted her. Blood was...everywhere, and the corpse of a small lioness lay off to one side, sprawled in a long-since-congealed pool of blood. Directly in front of her, however, was something far more horrifying. A large male crouched over a....well, he wasn't a particularly small male, although he had a lean, lanky build, and from the condition he was in, hadn't stood a chance against the far bulkier male. The larger lion towered over him, practically crooning about what he was going to do next, although the victim in question barely twitched beneath his paws. It was probably fortunate that he seemed to be unconscious, at this point.
Sacks of what appeared to be lush, painstakingly prepared pelts, jewelry and carved bits of bone lay scattered on the floor, and the pinned male's breath was raspy, and painful to listen to. From the sound of it, there was a good chance that he had at least one broken rib.
Hila wasn't one who was usually bothered by violence - the stormborn were a pride that valued physical strength, after all, but this was something else, something...obscene. It also appeared to have been going on for some time. It was one of those moments in your life that define where your lines are, and immediately clarify and refine your moral compass.
As she hesitated, shocked into inaction, Hila was jostled roughly to the side, surprised to see that it was the captain, Djae, who rushed past her, barrelling straight into the aggressor in the tableau before her. It was rather impressive, actually, to see how quickly Djae put the other male down - he may have been large, but was clearly no match for a stormborn captain...although she couldn't help but think later that she wished his death had been slower, and more painful.
In the aftermath, as they explored the area further, it appeared he had stalked the deceased lioness and her companion before ambushing them here. He'd attacked the lioness first, and left her to slowly bleed out as he had meticulously and painfully tormented the (still unconscious) male.
On closer examination, more than one rib appeared to be broken, so time would tell if they had punctured anything vital, and while most were not deep, he had a massive amount of scratches and cuts (the deepest, which were likely to scar, were on one of his hind legs). More painfully, an impressive (and horrifying) amount of skin below his pale fur seemed to be turning a gradient of deep blue and purple shades, swelling, and likely tender to the touch. However, with care, he might be able to make a full, if slow, recovery. Left on his own, those odds were next to nothing, in his current state.
As her companions debated over the material spoils, carefully avoiding looking at the much-abused lion who continued to labor for breath, dead to the world, she made a decision. <********> She knew she was going to regret this - she'd be giving up her portion of the pelts, and the exquisite jewelry, and whatever else was in all of the sacks that her fellow reavers were still sifting through, all so she could claim a thrall that was unlikely to be able to help with anything for weeks...if he even survived the trip back.
"I want the thrall." She said it firmly, keeping her expression neutral. She was apparently more compassionate than she ever would have guessed, she silently observed, barely containing a self-directed scowl.
"You're too softhearted" one of the other reavers sneered, clearly seeing this as another sign that females weren't cut out for going a-viking.
While his observation was a fair one, she bristled, brazening it out. "I don't have any thralls of my own, and when his injuries are treated, his uselessness will only be temporary." She retorted, sneering right back. "If you'd like to come a little closer, though, I'll gladly show you how soft-hearted I am." She raised her paw as she said it, flexing her claws deliberately.
While he may have been inclined to take her up on that offer, the captain stepped in, clearing his throat pointedly. "More of the good stuff for the rest of us, then," the other male shot back before turning away.
"Grab one of the ruined pelts, we'll have to drag him back." Djae said simply before walking away.
Fortunately, that was the worst of the grumbling, even over the next few days as they trekked home, which was surprising, as everyone ended up helping to transport the pale thrall back.
Skare drifted painfully in and out of consciousness...sort of. His lids felt too heavy to lift, and he wondered if he was delusional, as he sometimes heard voices...none of them familiar. Breathing hurt. Not breathing hurt, as well. Perhaps worse, even had he wanted to, he was afraid to open his eyes, afraid that he had more pain waiting to greet him when he did.
He'd never felt so ashamed, or so...weak. He'd watched his travelling companion fall, which had been awful enough...and then he'd had his own dignity slowly and agonizingly shredded. He'd tried to fight back, he'd wept, eventually, he'd begged, and finally, he'd slipped into unconsciousness, and couldn't be sure just how far the other male had gone. Was he even still...whole?
He hadn't been particularly close to the lioness he'd been travelling with, but guilt at her death ate at him. She'd asked if she could travel with him as he'd been packing up his wares, preparing to leave the last pride he'd stopped to trade with. He had always travelled alone, but there had been a nervousness, even fear in her eyes that had made him agree.
And look where that got you he thought bitterly. Although...he probably would have agreed even if he had been able to see this outcome, as he'd always had a soft spot for others in trouble, for all that he was usually described as being rather aloof. He may have kept to more populated areas, though...
It was fortunate that they made good time, Hila thought, more concerned than she cared to admit. Her new thrall had never fully awakened on the journey back. He'd stirred a few times, winced even when deeply asleep, but had never once opened his eyes.
Perhaps he was injured worse than she had originally thought? Did he perhaps have some sort of head injury that he was never going to wake up from? She didn't like fretting, but he was her responsibility now. Ugh.
If he didn't wake up soon, now that they were home, she supposed she might have to go see a certain friend, to see if he had any advice to offer.
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