Prologue: The Bastet's Pride

Her father changed and took another shape, one with strange paws that could holds things. He used this to pull the submissive hyena from the neck and he held him in front of his daughter. He was clearly expecting something, or giving her some kind of choice. This was nowhere near normal Lion behavior, and very confusing.

Her father seemed to have what he was expecting of her, although she still did not grasp what was happening. The hyena began to panic as he felt the Simba's grip tighten. He tried to fight back, but he was firmly held. In this position, it was almost too easy. Her father put a single claw behind the Hyena's neck where the skull and the spine meets and pushed it in slowly. The were-Hyena struggled with everything he had then suddenly stopped. It was dead.

With utter disdain, her father discarded the were-hyena's remains. The pride had witnessed his slaying of the last beast and was now making way for him as he walked back, in lion shape, towards one of his usual resting places in the shade.

Meanwhile, the traumatized mother nearby was licking her cub like she was afraid it would just vanish out of thin air.

She was at least allowed to follow. Which was unbelievable in itself. He had shown no sign of pain after the initial attack and walked casually, gracefully up until about half-way there. At that point, he suddenly crisped and contracted. His entire being immobilized by crippling pain. He did not yell, he was far too proud for that. But even he could not hide the torture that walking had become. After a short pause, he continued carefully and extremely slowly. Avoiding to shift his weight around too much, minimizing the movements of his back. He stumbled three times on the way, rocks that moved under his paws, or he simply slipped. He roared in agony, shame and frustration each time.

When at last, he made it to the shade, far from the pride's eyes, he allowed her to stay and lay down on his belly. Once settled, he proceeded to lick the superficial wounds on his paws and chest generated by the panicked flailing of his first two kills. Those healed instantly. But unfortunately, there was no way he could use his magic healing between his own two shoulder blades.

Impossibly. Her father did not mind. He allowed her to remain close for an extended period of time. Even when she cause him pain he did not attack her. He only allowed himself some powerful grunt of frustrations.

As the atrocious and gaping wounds were cleaned, time continued on. With the coming of night he gained a lot of bulk although his shape remained that of a lion. It was the same form he had used to fight the three hyenas. Then, he curled up and tried to sleep. She knew he would not succeed. Soon, some Lionnesses came to keep him warm through the cold night, but he growled them away. It seemed he would only suffer his daughter's presence right now.

When she woke up several hours later, she saw that her father had gotten better. While he was in no shape to run around and chase gazelles, the torn bits of flesh randomly strewn about his back had evened out and the gaps had visibly begun to close. He still had a long way to go, but he was healing fast.

It was late morning when he finally got up and left. He should be dead, not walking around the pride. Yet, that was exactly what he did. Pain was still an issue, however, she could see it by the slower-than-usual pace he took.

He did not call, nor did he send her away.

The rest of the pride was lazying around, but there was a distinct stress in the air. They had never seen the alpha male wounded before, or if they did it was long enough ago to not really matter to them. They were lions, they lived in the now. And right now, no one knew what to expect. For all the terror he represented, he was their leader. For all the leader he was, they were terrified of him. Confusion was abundant. It settled down a little as the alpha male prowled about. He was being seen, he was alive, he was active. In some ways, that was reassuring, just as it was scary.

Such was the mood the pride was in, when she rejoined it.

Her mother was slightly better than the rest of the pride. She had been around longer than most, her trust in the leader seemed unshakable.

Over the course of the next few days, her father recuperated quickly. The skin was now fullt closed but the fur still needed to grow back. During those days, she was always welcomed at his side. Meaning, he didn't push her back anymore. He actually accepted her presence when she showed up. He had, however, returned to being every bit as mean as before with everyone else. Especially the female whose son had been attacked and who had chosen to be terrified instead of fighting with them against the Hyenas. He gave her a very rough time and rightfully she was now avoiding him entirely.

The mood in the pride returned to normal with the health and attitude of the alpha. Soon, the alpha would need to leave for a few days to patrol the border of the pride's territory and refresh the urine marking their grounds. Truth be told, he should have been gone already, but something kept him here with the pride.

When she woke up, there was another commotion in the pride. Most were gathering towards the west. They were both angry and scared.

When she got there, she saw the pride hiss, growl and roar. Five Hyenas where there. They were on the defensive, trying to dissuade the pride from attacking. They showed no hostilities, just defensive stances. It was clear that they had no intention of backing down or be intimidated.

Three of them had the Chrinos form, the one that was oddly bipedal and clearly made for battle. One had the Chatro form, the big hyena form she had defeated with her father. Another wore a akin to that of a man. Humans were weak creatures barely worth noticing, but this one was larger and extremely muscular. I seemed very worth noticing.

Her mother was there, but her father was no where to be found.