The Sun beat down their silhouettes, throwing out shadows that longed to chase them and to become them while the winds followed. The land seemed to be at rest, peaceful even but everything and everyone knew what lay ahead come winter. Zavier entertained the new idea inside her head numerous times, thinking back to when he first arrived, just walking together to the Eland and the death delivered by none other than Jaromir himself and then to now. The idea wasn't a bad one, that was true and she certainly enjoyed the handsome lad but she wasn't sure how she'd handle herself in a pride. She knew nothing of them except for the single fact that cost her litter-mates..But, this could be a chance for a new life to be honest.
"Aye, ye've my word," she assured him before hurrying to place herself beside the brute after she'd slowed down. "What brought this up anyways?"

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"It take a bit more than the average cut of lioness to impress me," he grinned sheepishly. "I saw my take of talented ones back home, and you're up to snuff. Plain and simple. I need the best to get this pride on its feet up here, and I can't do it alone."
The evening breeze came down the mountain with a chilly breeze of welcome. Jaromir's mane blew past his face and rippled the creamy locks gustily. "That and the winter months will be here soon," he added as an afterthought. "I doubt I'd make it alone up here." It almost shamed him to admit it, a big brute admitting his own weakness of being alone in the world. That and the unsaid fact of the matter was, after so many weeks of solitary wandering, he was lonely. "I'm glad you're on board, anyway," he said briskly before resuming their pace back to the cave.
Night had just started to draw around them when they made it back. The sky was still covered in heavy pink and orange clouds, the purple hues just beginning to spread. Jaromir passed under the overhanging brush at the entrance and made himself comfortable further back to avoid the cool air outside. He lay flat on his side, legs outstretched comfortably.

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"Never thought I was talented," she commented, "An' I thought ye said ye weren't a king?' Zavier teased from a distance. She watched Jaromir's mane and form disappear inside the den, the shadows swallowing him up whole. She settled again outside the entrance where her scent was strongest even before the lion had shown up. The female rolled until she was belly-side up, legs splayed and paws curled. She was finding it hard to sit still or get into a comfortable position but this, this was tolerable and it cooled her off much better than any latter poses.
Zavier's fleshy tongue ran over alabaster carnassials as she licked her chops. She soon began to fantasize a pride, running alongside lionesses as they hunted the Ibex, and possibly taking down the pesky leopardess..or even cubs frolicking in the snow that sometimes fell during late spring and autumn. A grin graced her face, her orbits and audits relaxed. She thought of losing pride-mates, and what it might have been, and what the memories everybody shared might feel like. She dreamed of welcoming lost cubs, or families wishing for something new. Not long after was the huntress fast asleep, lost in another world.

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Jaromir curled into himself as he slept. His eyelids tremored as he dreamed.
The crashing waves were always heard on the island. If one sniffed hard enough, you could smell the sharp tang of sea salt on the beach. Beach grass grew shoulder high and lush, but further up the banks they flattened out beneath the paws of scores of lions. Cubs played, chasing and shrieking with glee, safe from harm in their secluded paradise. Males and females laid in the shade of a giant tree, grooming one another, gossiping amicably. Jaromir closed his eyes, standing with his back to them, facing the sea, inhaling deeply. Thunder could be heard in the distance. A soft voice spoke behind him.
"Jaromir..."
His eyes flew open, and he was laying on the cave floor, breathing somewhat heavily. It was still some time before dawn. He lifted a paw and wiped at his face, trying to keep a hold of the dream still somewhat clear in his mind, but it was like trying to cup water in his paws. More and more of it trickled away, until all he could really remember was the sound of the ocean, and the voice...
He closed his eyes, letting sleep wash over him again.

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The Sun came up as even Sleep seemed to cling to it's fiery body. The explosion of dandelion yellow, blood orange and liquidy red burst into the sky woke even the heaviest of sleepers, including Zavier herself. She awoke with a start, righting herself until she was standing with a wariness uncharacteristic of her. She stretched much like a canine bowed at play, her tail trailing behind her slim build. She then set to grooming, licking down clumps of fur and brushing away collections of dirt and dust. The daily practice helped let her shine, glowing underneath whatever light was delivered.

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Jaromir's yawn could be heard even from outside. He was sprawled on his back, legs akimbo, the last of a light snore dying off mid-yawn and he awoke drowsily. He rolled over lazily, still feeling full and almost bloated from the previous day's hunt. He got to his feet slowly, making his way outside to Zavier.
"Do you always sleep outside? Or do I just smell?" he greeted her with a smirk. He plopped onto his haunches, fur puffing up to the best of his abilities to ward off the morning chill. (svs)

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Zavier paused mid-lick to stare at him and rolled her eyes. "I actually like to wake up in a not-sore way," she retorted tiredly. The morning breeze ruffled the big feline's coat, sending shudders up her spine. She was usually pretty good outside during early winter for she'd grown used to it, and adapted even. Nobody would have known but her core body temperature and heart rate often dropped to help preserve energy, and most of the times it put her into a drowsy state mocking a bear's hibernation. Now of course they stayed high enough to allow functionality and to prevent death but the winter months were never forgiving.
Zavier watched the pools of light melt on her frame, shadowing the musculature and what-not. Eyes the color of early frost fluttered shut and open as she blinked to help relieve herself of the itchy, dry feeling.

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Jaromir shook his mane luxuriously. They sat together in silence for a little while, each lost in their own thoughts as Zavier resumed her morning bath. Jaromir self consciously bent his neck to rake his tongue clumsily against his chest mane, but soon grew exasperated at the amount of hair collecting on his barbed tongue. He spit out a hairball, looking up at Zavier, who was watching him with silent humor, and grinned sheepishly. He cleared his throat.
"So," he said. "Since we're full and don't have to hunt today, we could make the den a bit of a project." He looked behind his shoulder at the dark entrance way. "Could get some soft grass and whatnot, make some warm nests to sleep in. Better than a cold floor or sleeping outside." He got up with a small huff and made his way over to one of the boulders nearby, pawing at the green, spongy moss that grew in its shadow. "This stuff seems soft, too," he mused. He bent to pull at it with his teeth, but all he got for his efforts was a ragged mouthful of dirt and tiny roots. He let it fall from his chops and hacked, and he could have sworn he heard the smallest tinkle of laughter come from Zavier behind him.

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Zavier brushed past him with a smug grin on her face. "Watch and learn," she carefully placed her unsheathed claws underneath the mossy vegetation and pulled back, with the micro-plants still intact. Dirt fell off or hung on for dear life, holding the clump together. She - neatly - spread it out like a mouse sized blanket, little bits and pieces here and there. "Ye want to git the dirt and pull up, slowly or else the entire thing will be shredded faster than ye can blink. Claws also keep yer mouth clean."
She advised with a loud chuckle. "Practice, but practice well, there's not much of this to go 'round." Zavier padded away, streams of light cascading down her body and head. She disappeared behind the den's rocky structure and shortly returned with a mouthful of grass in her teeth. She tossed it into the den to disperse. They would push the grass into piles later and choose which places to deck out.

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Jaromir followed her example carefully, this time slicing off a decently kept-together hunk of moss, and continued to do so around all the nearby boulders until he had a nice pile of cut moss outside the den, ready to line any nests they would build that day. He then joined Zavier in gathering mouthfuls of dry grass clumps that grew scattered on the mountainside, and before noon they had collected enough for both of them to build a comfy spot to sleep at night.
However, as it were with the work they were doing, both of their tongues became coated with dirt, grit, and grass bits. Jaromir deposited his last bundle at his feet and let his tongue hang from his jowls.
"Phbbt!" he gacked out a bit dramatically. He ran a paw over his tongue, but it didn't do much good. "I don't know about you, but I'm parched. Where can we find water around here?" he asked, turning to Zavier.

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Zavier froze. It hadn't donned on her until now. "We best be hurrying if ye wantin' any for yerself. I'm pretty sure it's started freezin' over at night already and before long, we'll be eatin' snow." She groaned, more annoyed than anything.
"There is water, but there isn't gonna be much at this point. Forget the bedding, there's always grass when we git back,"
the lioness said. She turned tail and exited through the den's mouth, her own tongue lolling and jaws hanging. She stopped to watch Jaromir shake off his pelt and grab at his tongue again when he gave up. The two cats walked - and sometimes talked - for maybe three or four hours until they came upon a watering hole surrounded by Ibex, Eland, and other creatures. "It's an unspoken truce. When water is scarce, death isn't an option at this lonely hole turned wintry hot spot."

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Jaromir was practically panting by the time they reached their destination. He didn't say a word to Zavier as she explained the truce, but instead merely let his head drop muzzle-first into the water with a splash. He more or less sucked down his fill of the cold, crystal-clear water, coming up for breath gustily.
"Oh, gods, that's better," he gulped. He shook his mane vigorously, sending droplets of water scattering about. He sat on his haunches, taking a moment to take in the scene around them. Various mountain-dwelling, hoofed creatures stared at the duo suspiciously, but continued to drink their fill before trotting off to continue their business elsewhere. "We had rules like this where I came from," Jaromir said after a small pause. He turned to look at Zavier, her head bent and shoulders hunched as she lapped at the water herself. "We didn't need to call a truce often; I only remember it ever happening once, come to think of it," he mused.

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"These truces take place every winter honestly. I'm not quite sure how I've mad it this far," she chuckled sarcastically.
"How bad was it? I mean, ye said it only ever happened once? How bad?" Zavier licked away the dripping liquid clinging to her chin and nose and frowned. "We need to check on our last kill, I want te dig it up before the ground freezes over."

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"Might as well bring it home since we've got it established that it's our permanent residence," Jaromir agreed, getting to his feet. "We can use the back of the cave as a kill pile anyway. Plenty of room," he said cheerfully as they departed side by side.
As they padded on, he relayed the story from his past to her. "I was still a youngling when it happened," he said thoughtfully. "My mane had barely become a scruff on my neck, I remember that much. The island's beach grass turned brown and brittle, and I remember overhearing the adults and council elders say they had no recollection of that happening in generations." He flicked his tail to dislodge an inquisitive fly looking for an easy rump to bite. "When you live on an island, you get rain fairly frequently with the seasonal changes, but that season we just... didn't. The water hole dried up within a moon; granted, it wasn't very large to begin with," he added as an afterthought. "We had to swim to the mainland's water sources to quench our thirsts, but they were having a dry time of things, too. So the truce happened," he finished with a light shrug.

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"Wait..Wait, a second? Ye said an island? How the hell does an entire pride of lions end up on an island?" She gave him a dumbfounded look, so utterly appalled by the idea. She shook her cranium from side to side, small insects fighting desperately to lay claim on her nasal bridge. She watched as the birds dove and grasped prey in their talons, or winged bugs in their beaks and bills. She blinked away dust a few times, her tail twitching in response to her irritated mood.
She was eager to git home and lie down, with the Eland carcass adding a variety of scents to their den once it was removed from it's earthbound grave. Zavier walked quietly with jowls hanging, panting. She knew it to be winter for winter's icy fingers and shivering hands carassed her pelt, giving no time for warmth. She felt so very hot though, as if it were summer? Zavier shoved it into the back of her head and focused on the task ahead of them.

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