Nizana

[katebobate]

The Next Generation
Staring
-Nizana

General Information

Name:nizana
Age: 4 (young adult)
Gender: female
Species: desert lion
Alliance: neutral-but I want her to join a pride relatively quickly

Personality

Nizana is rouge by birth, and while she seems perfectly suited to life alone-and goes so far as to tell it straight to any beast asking she’s just fine with her circumstances. The female lioness fears being alone, or rather she fears dying alone. Which is not to say that she lives life cautiously by any means quite the opposite is true. Especially when it comes to her penchant for letting her sarcasm and sass get her into trouble. Nizana likes to laugh-in fact, she’s honed the skill with her many hours of alone time. It’s not uncommon to find her laughing at her own jokes, and pulling pranks at the expense of herself and often times others. While some might consider her humor a bit too morbid to be considered harmless fun-she can be seen flashing those sharp pearly whites in a smile most days.

Despite her somewhat gregarious nature, she’s exceptionally good when it comes to becoming invisible. In the desert you have to be, if you expect to catch dinner, and on your own-it could be the difference between living and going home with a limp. Too bad she’s so skilled it’s easy to forget she exists. If she’s not fighting to survive or hunting for a meal-the young lioness spends most of her free time laying low. A pride animal, with no pride and the female is nearing to end of her ability to live in complete isolation. One could say she’s gone a bit bonkers out on her own because of it too. Aloof, prone to talking to herself, and more than a bit feral- she’s not exactly the easiest big cat to get acquainted with.

When around others she can be accused of being candid to a fault. Nizana speaks her mind, and does so often without thought of how others will react. She can’t quite understand the concept of trust-or why obstinacy is such a bad thing. As far as how she feels about conflict and picking sides-Nizana is truthfully, out for herself. It isn’t done maliciously for the most part; it’s just all the she cat knows. If pressed, she’d probably be loyal if there was a good enough reason for it-and a place to sleep, eat and drink-is certainly a fine enough one for her. It goes without saying, getting close to the rouge is sure to be a challenge, but her talents when it comes to hunting and slipping by predators unseen might just be worth the hassle. Scrappy and unafraid of dirt or spilling blood (her own of others)-the young adult definitely shows promise as far as combat is concerned-all she needs is a chance, and someone crazy enough to put up with her. Kings of the past help the lion willing to do so; with her argumentative and feisty personality she isn’t about to let just anyone lead her around. Especially males, as she whole heartily believes she doesn’t need a lion for much of anything, after all she’s got along fine without one thus far.

Appearance

Noticeably more slender than she should be, considering the fact that Nizana, is a more than a fair hunter. The female lioness seems to boast the all too common lithe physique of an animal prone to wandering the desert in search of food. Her fur, though most often covered in a thin layer of grime, is actually lighter than it’s typically muddied red clay appearance. On the rare occasions she finds herself clean, her pelt boasts a rich red-tinted bole color including her muzzle, backs of her ears and ticks of color just above her eyes. The female’s underbelly, face, inner ears, and paw pads, all seem to be wearing a lighter shade of raw umber. While she’d be easily spotted in green grass, the female seems to blend perfectly among sand dunes and arid surroundings. A Cinnamon hue a touch darker than the vast majority of her coat can be found in the hair at the tip of her tail, forepaws, and head fur. Had she any memory of her father, she’d venture to guess his coat was mostly a dark ruddy reddish color, because her mother certainly didn’t donate the shade.

Nizana is largely unassuming from afar, and hardly frightening up close. Her lean build can and often does, lull most into a false sense of security about her. She’s lankier than the typical lioness-and tends to seem almost more at home with the build of cheetahs than fellow members of a pride. Except she has muscle where it counts-in fact, her thin and nimble form seems to accentuate the taut musculature she has. Scruffy and not one to fuss much over appearances-the lioness often looks feral in appearance due the length of her head fur, and wildness in her tail fur. In a fight she’ll never rely on brute strength alone-as her stature tends to thwart extremely powerful blows. She can however, usually out-last an opponent in a fight due to her uncanny amount of endurance, and the wiry warrioress needs all the advantages she can get. If all else fails- Nizana uses speed and stealth as a last ditch effort to get away. If she can’t beat you, and you don't seem to be tiring out, then she’s use the rest of her energy to sprint away to safety. Wiry, ambush, and scrappy, tend to define the way this lioness likes to fight, and it’s rare you’ll find her not ready for one. As she rarely retracts her shimmering obsidian claws, when she’s out and about, and if the fierceness in her amber and aqua colored eyes doesn’t prove she’s tougher than she looks. The slick, pink, hairless scars along the top of her muzzle, hindquarters and tail seem to prove she can definitely take care of herself-or at the very least get into trouble, and survive getting out of it.

History

Nizana isn’t exactly forthcoming with her past-mostly because she can’t really remember it-or is too busy to care. Suffice to say she was born into the life of a dune wandering rouge. If her parents came from a pride her mother neglected to tell her-and seem quick to snap when any questions about it were brought up. She was a bitter lioness-stubborn, fiercely determined and save her two cubs-alone. Nizana, the younger of her litter-mate was a handful from the moment she could walk. Her father, or what little she knew about the male was that he was a loner-preferred being alone, and while he and Shema stayed by the others side long enough to see Shema through her pregnancy-when he learned she’d given birth to no males-he was quick to move on. Her mother had little time to grieve the loss of her mate, all her attention was place on her cubs Nizana, and her elder sister Tope. Without a male to offer protection for the threesome, the future seemed bleak. Somehow, through force of will Shema managed to bring-up her cubs to the cusp of adulthood. Honestly it’s anyone’s guess how she succeeded-but despite the hardships the small family unit survived-it only barely just.

In the rocky outcroppings between solid earth and shifting sands-the female lions clung onto existence. Hunting was done with complete seriousness and concentration-and anything was on the menu-that included kill larger than what the three lionesses should have been tangling with. Desperation can drive a lion to do stupid things-and after a week long spell with no food a wandering herd of gemsbok was too tempting to pass up. Their mother would have protested but hunger, and their ability to give her the slip seemed to be edging them along. The herd was small-and the two female had picked out the only calf in the group. Sensing something was amiss the herd strayed close to the edge of the sands-well within running distance of the dunes and safely farther than the young lionesses would dare to go. Tope instructed her younger sibling to wait-but impulsiveness got the better of her and she charge out toward the herd. The hard smack of paw pads against rock didn’t do much for stealth-but the thrill of the chase seemed to block out the females grasps of logic. The herd panicked and with a few startled mews started to run.

She was seeing stars; literally-it was night by the time she came to. Dried blood matted parts of her fur-and an aching throb kept her from moving too quickly. Shema seemed to breathe a shaky sigh of relief when the female finally coaxed a lack luster Wha-what happened, out of her muzzle. Her mother didn’t speak-in fact for the longest time she just laid there next to her daughter-and then the haze fogging her memory cleared. The herd, her sister, the chase, the calf, and then something broadsided her and she saw nothing but black. They weren’t the only group of hungry lions in this portion of the outlands, and the herd hadn’t wandered through the wasteland without attracting attention. A small cluster of rouge felines must have been lying in wait for them-because as some as Tope brought down what they assumed would be dinner, that’s when they sprang into action.

Dumb luck and Shema’s speed seemed to be the only reason her youngest cub survived the fray. Trails of blood and drag marks were the only indication of the scuffle, the group had made off with their kill before Shema arrived. To her horror-Tope was nowhere to be found, and Shema assumed downheartedly, she’d been lost to the desert. Obviously feeling responsible-Nizana blamed herself for her mother's mortal wounds, and her sister's disappearance-yes disappearance, as she refused to believe she'd been killed. When infection and dehydration took her mother away-Nizana felt all she could do to chase the demons away was to set out and find Tope. Of course, it was easier said than done since she had no other clues than what direction they headed last. Toward the setting sun-toward the Outlands, toward danger, and most likely death.

It's been several sun raises and sun-sets since the now four year old lioness has set out in search of her sibling. So far not even a paw print has been able to point her in the right direction-but her thick-headiness and guilt forces her to trudge on, even when she's heard rumor of another pride patrolling these parts.

[~Vitani~]

Very nice. Accepted