#794211471074
Belongs to Sadīvī's Pride
(View Former Prides)

Cold Splinter

"[SPIRIT] The Young Prisoner."

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This lioness gave birth in the past two years. She is on a breeding cool down and will be breedable again in 9 real life days.
Lion Stats
Experience
0 / 100 (0%)
Level 1
Strength 100 Speed 79
Stamina 111 Smarts 120
Agility 106 Skill 1
Total Stats: 517


Lion Currents
Age 9 years, 3 months old
Hunger
60%
Mood
60%
Sex Female
Pose Default
Personality
Vain (Snarky)
Breeding Info
Father Cador (Deceased) Mother ~| Prospect |~ View Full Heritage
Last Bred 14 days ago Fertility Low View All Cubs Bred (2)
Appearance Markings
Base Ice (Gray Skin) Slot 1: Hyena Stripes Scarce Onyx (79%) Tier 3
Slot 2: Under Golden 1 (30%) Tier 0
Slot 3: Mistletoe Debris (47%) Tier 3
Slot 4: Esker Dinictis (24%) Tier 3
Slot 5: Hoarfrost Vitiligo (45%) Tier 3
Slot 6: Under White 6 (18%) Tier 0
Slot 7: Feline 7 White (56%) Tier 3
Slot 9: Rime Feline (100%) Tier 3
Genetics Black Dark Countershaded Special
Eyes Pink
Mane Type Sideward
Mane Color Ebony
Mutation Patches (Murky)
Marking Slots
10
Equipped Decorations
Snow-Covered Hut

Above
Expression: Heartbroken Tears
Eye of the Kitten
Gentle Chains [Tanzanite]
Hail
Low Legwraps [Dark]
Rugged Mane [Onyx]
Rough Opal Fang Extensions
Lifetime Hunting Results
Total Hunts 0 Successful Hunts 0 Success Rate 0%


Biography



The Young Wanderer
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
In the moonlit shadows, a shivering cub yearned for the warmth of reunion, haunted by the memory of her pride's demise. How long had it been since she last felt warmth? As the moon filtered through the ink-dark clouds, she was brutally reminded of her home, the Moonlit Pride. She was too young to understand why the Spirits had set their wrath against them, or why they had been labeled as "cursed, unfit to stay among the living." All she remembered was the sensation of the ice setting into her fur, the sight of her friends and the elders succumbing to the eternal frost. She let out a mewl as she cried for her parents, her heart cracking with grief at the memory. Yet no one came to scoop her up into a loving embrace, to comfort her or relieve her of her torment. This desert was a prison, and she was the prisoner it held. All she could do was wander, hoping for someone to set her free.



-By Kosmic they are very good at write-







all marks applied by either applicator or RMA

born with 0 marks

added ice base





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