Post by Simba on Sept 21, 2011 14:50:17 GMT -5
WHAT IS YOUR NAME?
Simba[/sub]
WHAT GENDER ARE YOU?
Male[/sub]
HOW OLD ARE YOU?
6 years[/sub]
WHAT PRIDE ARE YOU LOYAL TO?
The Pridelands[/sub]
WHAT IS YOUR STATUS?
King of the Pridelands[/sub]
WHAT DO YOU LOOK LIKE?
A massive golden lion with a long golden-brown mane[/sub]
CAN YOU GO INTO MORE DETAIL PLEASE
build: Simba, as a cub, had little to define himself apart from the other cubs. He was small and lacking in size, strength, agility, skill, and basically anything else that made a cat a lion. But when he fled the pridelands he was forced to not only hunt for himself, but to protect the two friends he had come to care for. This transformed the young lion into a powerful beast that surpassed the qualities of almost any other. Under his golden fur is nothing but rippling, hardened muscle. His body is shaped mostly like his father before him, but his face carries a more gentler side to it that he owes to his mother.[/sub]
Coloring: Most of Simba’s fur is a rich shade of gold. His toes , muzzle, and chest are a slightly paler shade of this making them appear to be mostly tan. His mane and tail both share the same fairly unique shade of reddish-brown he inherited from his father. His eyes are orange-brown.
Markings: Because of the mark of his uncle Simba has taken great care to avoid any scars in his time in the wild. He did earn a few on his pelt as a younger lion as he fled through the briar to escape the hyenas. For the most part his fur grew over the marks making them barely visible. On each of his forepaws he bears four claw marks given to him by Scar as he hung over the edge of Pride Rock. These are not hidden, but rarely noticed as few bother to look at his paws.
WHAT ARE YOU LIKE?
Loyalty: Since his return he has dedicated his life to the Pridelands and their upkeep along with his mate and cubs. For them he would gladly give his life to ensure their safety. He also remains loyal to his father, even though he is gone, and strives with everything he does to be worthy to be called his father’s son.[/sub]
Uncertanty: In his past Simba was known for his overconfidence and the many ways it lead him –and often others – into danger. Over the seasons this has not only changed, but has nearly completely disappeared. While he allows himself to appear proud and confident, certain of everything he said and did, in his heart he is afraid. What if his decision leads to the death of another? What if a few extra hunting patrols in winter lead to an extreme shortage of prey and starvation cripples the pride? Simba is careful to present himself in the same confident manner, that no other lion can see his fear. Very few lions, his mother and mate, know of this weakness
Protectiveness: With the loss of Kopa his need to protect the things he loves has strengthened beyond any of his other qualities. It leads him to not only be a fierce and great king, but a stern father as well. He has done everything in his power to ensure his cubs will be safe living in the pridelands, and to separate them from the outsiders that threaten the pridelands existence. And, in time of need, he would gladly overstep his boundaries as king if it meant they would be safer.
YOUR FAMILY TREE
Father: Mufasa, king of the Pridelands before Simba. Matches Simba in appearance. Even now, after he knows what has happened Simba still believes that there must have been something he could have done to prevent his death and it wounds his heart terribly.[/sub]
Mother: Sarabi, Queen of the Pridelands and lifelong mate to Mufasa. Still lives among the pride’s elders.
Uncle: Scar, short-time king of the Pridelands after first murdering Mufasa (who was his brother) until
Simba overthrew him. Unlike mufasa he is a dark brown lion with a black mane.
Mate: Nala, current Queen of the Pridelands. She, like most of the lionesses has tawny fur, the color of the plains to help her hunt better. She is among the few lionesses to have green eyes. Nala was Simba’s friend as a cub before he fled and it was she who first tried to convince him to return. He did not listen to her words, too afraid of what he would face, but they stayed with him until he finally made his way back to pride rock. After he took his place as king he remained at her side and she at his. She bore three cubs by him: Kopa, the eldest, Kiara, his only daughter, and Koda, their youngest cub.
Cubs:
~~Kopa: Simba’s oldest son and the one he believed would one day become king of the pridelands. He looked much like Simba with the same golden fur. But before Kopa could do anything to claim his worthiness to claim the title of king he disappeared. After many seasons of searching Simba was forced to believe his son to be dead and still grieves over him.
~~Kiara: Simba’s headstrong daughter looks so much like her mother. Because of Kopa’s presumed death he cannot help but watch her as a hawk would a mouse, doing everything he possibly can to try to ensure she will be safe. She does little to help him though, running headlong into disasters and forcing him to resort to drastic measures to protect her.
~~Koda: The last born of Simba’s cubs Koda owes most of his resemblance to his mother having pale tan fur and green eyes. Unlike Kiara he shows signs of maturity and a seriousness about one day taking over the Pridelands that Kiara has yet to present. He is just as protective over Koda as he is Kiara, but because of his more calm and less rebellious nature he is less harsh on him. This comes mainly because Simba has come to believe if he punished Koda (say, confined him to Pride Rock for the next moon) he would actually accept and complete his punishment (where as his sister would be trying to escape at every turn)
SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT
The great kings watched from above as a single lion paced through the plains, following a path no other beast could see. The wind blew inconsistently against his pelt, casually playing with his fur at times and trying to pull the hair from his mane at others. It carried with it the rich scent of the Pridelands, the scent of fresh grasses, flowers, and bark scraped by the tusks of warthogs. Every few moments, however, the wind’s direction would change and with these fragrances would come the harsher scent of the outlands. Simba’s pelt would bristle every time he inhaled their odor.[/sub]
His path curved around a tree and over a flat stretch of grass. To one side a herd of gazelle slept, their young clustered in the center. A single buck stood watch and his ears pointed towards the king of beasts as he past. Simba stopped and looked his way, a paw hung in midair, then continued on. The buck did not alert the rest of his herd. Simba could not decide if it was because he was young and never knew what predator he had just seen, or if the prey had not sensed any threat in the lion. Normally this would be a deadly mistake for him and a large portion of his herd, but Simba was not hunting tonight.
With the herd behind him Simba stopped and stared at the landscape ahead. Most of the land was baron, the ground made of soil or stone instead of being coated with grasses. The trees that stood in the shadowed land were leafless and bare. Dividing the two distinct was a thick, fast flowing river that filled the air with its babbling. A few rocks penetrated the surface, but they were to uneven, too far apart, and too small for him to hope to use them as stepping stones.
After a moment of observation Simba’s breathing pattern changed as his thoughts swirled to be must faster and harsher. His heartbeat quickened and his claws unsheathed leaving marks in the soil benieth his paws. Finally a great roar released itself from his jaws. His sharpened teeth gleamed in the moonlight and the air seemed to quiver at the sound of his voice. The gazelle woke when they heard and fled as fast as their legs could carry them. When he had no more breath to roar his head sank, his gaze falling to the water where his reflection was distorted by the shifting waters.
With the gazelle gone there was nothing there aside from himself. The area had been empty all those seasons ago and they were empty now. The scent he had desperately followed ended here at the water’s edge. He had raced along the shore hoping to see some sign of a golden pelt like his own, but found none. He lead several attacks into the Outlander’s territory and fighting against Zira’s blood thirsty pride. But never had he found the small golden cub that was his son.
“Kopa!” He called into the night, as if after so long the cub would be sitting just inside the territory behind a tree to hear his call and come home. But the only beasts that heard him were the kings of the past. After several moments of watching, waiting for something he knew would not be, he turned around and, with his tail dragging against the ground, return to Pride Rock.
