Dhikkara looked nervously, awkwardly, over at the lioness. Purple, a little bumped, a little bruised, expression shifting from enraged to scared to defeated to nearly every emotion a lion can experience besides joy or hope. The white lion kept his eyes down, feeling uncomfortable about his role in all of this. The lioness, he had not caught her name yet, was just the latest prize for the Myrsky Syntynyt. His mistress' had loaned Dhikkara to her father, Phlegyas, for the old, purple male's first viking. Delphi was... Dhikkara swallowed hard, a painful, tight knot in his throat.
Well, she was ******** scary is what she was.
The Myrsky Syntynyt was filled with Phlegyas' descendants as it just so happened, most rather distantly related, but Dhikkara flinched at every paw print, every light purple, every orange red or vine marking and so on. At this point, he thought it best to assume any and every dark pelted, red or light purple coated lion related to Phlegyas and therefore his mistress. That meant he had to be on his best behavior at all times. Never speak ill of his mistress. Never bemoan his position as a thrall. Always do as he was told, and promptly.
He had begun to wonder if his name that meant "curse" was not for how his mother felt carrying and delivering 15 cubs, but instead portended his fate.
And now... he looked again at his unwilling companion.
Now he was just a part of the system that he hated so much. He wished he could bring himself to let her go. To tell her to run off and the best direction to avoid any more reavers or freeborn. But...
He had become a coward. It was Ebumnyami or him, and he picked himself.
Still, he wished he could offer her a bit of comfort...
"Hey... I-... I'm sorry about all of... this..." Wow, just a great job there Dhikkara. She must totally feel better now.