#794118826426
Belongs to Andronian's Pride
(View Former Prides)

Ethel I

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This lion is immortal! It will not age or get hungry.

Appearance Markings
Base Bast (Gray Skin) Slot 1: Immolation Smoke (100%) Tier 3
Slot 2: Ice Cover (47%) Tier 3
Slot 3: Glacial Lace (99%) Tier 3
Slot 5: Feline 4 Onyx (100%) Tier 2
Slot 6: Cloudburst Mist (95%) Tier 3
Slot 7: Feline 7 Onyx (88%) Tier 2
Slot 11: Onyx Back Hair (58%) Tier 1
Genetics Golden Medium Countershaded Special
Eyes Blue
Mane Type Heavy
Mane Color Glacial
Mutation None
Marking Slots
11
Equipped Decorations
Perseid Storm

Above
Dancer Chains [Gold]
Lich Fire
Ancient Lion Mask
Fennec Fox
Fancy Mouse [Black Self Astrex]
Biography

Thomas Newman - Ghosts (Aaron Static & Fort Road Remix)


The first queen and true love of Andronian.
The young lioness has been find by Kate, the first lioness in king pride. Ethel was only 5 mouths old then.

The little cub cowered in fear behind a collection of rocks, tail tucked to her side as she watched her father’s looming shadow advance towards her mother, the dark shape elongated over the cavern floor by the setting sun. The light was fading faster than usual with the thick clouds of a storm rolling in from the east, and thunder rumbled softly in the distance. “You said you thought it was male.” His voice, rough and cold, cut through the still air, deceptively calm. Her mother stood with her head held high, regarding him warily but without fear. “I’m not a fortune teller, love, how was I to know?”
“Mother’s intuition.” His retort was scathingly mocking, repeating the words she had used when he questioned her prediction of a boy, back before Ethel knew the world. She narrowed her blue eyes at him, tail-tip flicking irritably. “I predicted a beautiful boy, and she is most certainly beautiful.” The lioness’ eyes softened. “She has your markings.” She added, fondness in her expression. When her mate’s stormy glare did not waver, she grew defensive. "Mother’s intuition can only go so far—“
“You don’t deserve to be a mother.” He cut her off, staring her down. The storm must have been moving fast, as with his words, a bellowing clap of thunder erupted from overhead. The lioness’ eyes flew open in shock for a moment before her expression broke into a snarl, her teeth flashing as she struck out, her paw colliding with his cheek, though her claws stayed sheathed. “How dare you?” She spat out, her voice almost a whisper as hurt flooded her gaze.
The lion did not seem perturbed by her distress, though. Rather, he lifted a paw to his stinging cheek, all the while maintaining eye contact with her. “That was rude.” He said softly, his eyes glinting dangerously. The next thing Ethel knew, she was obeying her mother’s shrieked command to run, racing across the cavern floor, which was splattered with blood, her mind wrecked by sheer confusion. She would just come back later, right? This was just how her parents worked. Her father would have his tempers and her mother would send her out of the den, only to retrieve her later. Reassured with this internal reasoning, Ethel settled herself under the tree where she usually waited for her mother. Soon enough, the tiny lioness was shivering under the merciless rain, her ears flattened to her head as thunder echoed above.
- - -
It was deep into the night by the time the little lion heard familiar pawsteps nearing her hiding place. “Dad?” She questioned the massive lion in a soft voice, standing from her self-made nest among the foliage. Her voice was tentative— her father didn’t usually retrieve her— but hopeful nonetheless. Perhaps he had decided he had gone too far this time, so he was collecting her to prove his love for their family. “Can I come home now?” The dark lion had not stopped at her first call, but at her question, he paused his pace, and turned to look back at her with glowing yellow eyes. She could see dried blood faintly cracked on his muzzle, and wondered if she had missed dinner.
“No.” His voice was low and curt, and he gave her another long look, appraising her markings, which mirrored his own, for a moment, before shaking his head at his sentimentality and turning back to continue his way into the darkness.

Ethel watched him leave, shaking feebly. She had a feeling her parents hadn’t made up this time, and she felt a strong urge to race back to the den and check on her mother. She had never been out after dark before, though, and after less than a minute of searching for the way back to the den, she was forced to return to the long grasses beneath the tree. Hungry, fearful, and freezing, the 5-month-old lioness screwed her eyes shut against the elements and tucked her head into her paws, sobs beginning to rack her body. Slowly, her sorrow grew, though for what she mourned, she could not be sure, and she tipped her head back to the sky, wailing into the rain, which continued to fall from the sky without a care in the world.

“Goodness! What’s wrong, little one?” A gentle voice came from above.
The cub opened her eyes to glare at the newcomer. “Why do you care?” She growled, her fur spiking. Her mother had taught her to be wary of strangers, and her father had taught her to kill that which she was wary of. The lioness, though, merely smiled in bemusement at the she-cub’s aggression. “Why are you all alone way out here?” She questioned, keeping her voice light, though her senses were on high alert.
The cub narrowed her eyes at the pale-pelted female, clearly calculating the risk factors of opening up to a stranger. “I don’t know.” She finally answered honestly. “My mom told me to run, and my dad said I couldn’t go home. I don’t know why.” She repeated, her voice edging into despair again as sobs once again began to shake her small form, despite her trying to remain composed.
“Hush, hush.” The kind lioness soothed, instinctively reaching out to pull the cub closer to her, warming her with her body and nuzzling her shoulder. “Come with me.” Her voice was soft and liquid, like warm prey after weeks without food. “My pride can be your home.”
The cub, already succumbing to sleep and aware that she had no power to resist, should the lioness attempt to force her to comply, merely kept her eyes open a little longer to ask a question. “Who are you?”
The lioness smiled gently. “I am Kate.” She answered, lifting the cub to carry her as smoothly as possible in her jaws. We will keep you safe. The female thought to herself as she headed home, her adopted daughter already fast asleep.

The beautiful bio written by Goldenheart


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Ethel I
Drawed by Deer
Andronian and Ethel I
Drawed by nami
Ethel I
Drawed by Cimerline






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