Rowan relished the coolness of the night as he continued his search for water. The lion was exhausted and was more than ready to rest, but he knew that if he settled down to rest without obtaining water he might never rise again.

          The sounds of crickets and the gentle breeze filled the silence of the night, and the moon and fireflies acted as his guiding light. Steadily the moon climbed higher and higher in the sky, and his search had yet to yield his desired fruit.

          His collapse was inevitable, as he was plowing ahead on determination alone. Rowan's lack of consistent meals and water added with his infected injury and exhaustion had drained away whatever strength he had left, and the lion could make no attempts to rise from his position. All he could do was adjust himself into a more comfortable position and give in to the need to sleep, with the hope that he would wake the next morning.

-:[Lone Lioness]:-

          She loped across the expanse of savannah with a tempered pace and an absentminded smile. It was early, but the weak rays from the still rising sun warmed her plain rosy brown pelt all the same, as did her movement.

          Her amber eyes scanning the open expanse of land in search of suitable prey, but to her surprise she found a broad shouldered lion asleep in the open. "How has he not been shredded by hyena?" She wondered.

          It didn't take her long to reach him, and even less to notice his situation. The male appeared to be skinny, and she knew for certain that there was plenty of prey in the given area. His hind paws had infected scratches, and with all of that added it wasn't a long stretch to assume that he was possibly dehydrated as well.

          The Lioness made a decision, and nosed the stranger awake. His state was somewhat fevered she deduced due to his bleary and lack of understanding when she asked him to get up. She resorted to weaseling her shoulder underneath his foreleg and hauling him upright.

          She nodded to herself once he stood, and offered her shoulder for him to lean on. To her surprise he tried to move forward on his own, only to quickly realize that he was to weak to do so. The stranger begrudgingly accepted her help, and allowed her to lead him to her den, where she withdrew her support and watched him sink back down to the ground.

           "Bouncefoot, you've returned. I see you've dragged in a stray as well." Her father commented from the back of the cave. She turned her head to watch with sadness as her father attempted to rise to his feet.

          Bouncefoot abandoned the stranger for a moment and made her way over to her father and helped him stand. She could just imagine hearing his bones protesting against his movements. "I'm sorry for not returning with food father. I promise to go hunting again once I take care of him." She promised, and gestured to the stranger she had rescued from the savannah.

          Her father had a rusty pelt that padded to a diluted rose red at his paws. Faint red panther like spots littered his underbelly and legs, and his wavy mane was the color of scorched savannah grass with a dark red tint. His eyes were emerald green, and still as brilliant as ever despite his old age, and they twinkled with amusement as he responded, "It's fine my dear. You've taken good care of me  these last few years, and I dare say I don't deserve such devotion. I can wait to eat." He assured her.

          Bouncefoot's father moved towards the den's entrance to bath in the sun while Bouncefoot gathered together a few herbs. The Lioness did not know much about healing, that had been her brothers specialty, and he had disappeared many seasons ago.

          She organized her materialize into a neat line beside the lion, before she leaned down to attempt to clean the area around his wounded scratches. However she never got the chance to as the stranger yanked away his limbs and lifted his head. His yellow gaze was filled with caution, "What are you doing?" He demanded slowly and with somewhat slurred speech. His voice was gravely, and she suspected that it was from thirst.

          "I'm trying to treat your scratches, they're infected, and while I might not be as good as my brother, Ghostbriar, I can manage just fine. " Bouncefoot answered while studying his features. She shifted slightly so that she could preform her task easier, "Now will you let me help you?" She asked.

          The male didn't pull away this time, but refused to relax as she went about cleaning the area with her tongue. "Who are you?" The stranger grumbled as he observed her chew up a piece of goldenrod into a pulp.

          He winced once she applied the herb, "My name is Bouncefoot, and that is my father. His name is Jamar." She replied, and then secured the poultice in place with some cobwebs. "Now I believe that I deserve some answers. Who are you?"

:Rowan:

          "I don't owe you any answers. I never asked for you to help me. I would have been fine on my own." Rowan stated lowly as he averted his gaze. A deep pit of writhing guilt formed in his stomach at his response. He did owe her his life he supposed.

          He watched her expression shift into one of amusement to his surprise from his peripheral vision. "You were half-lucid when I woke you and didn't understand when I asked you to stand. Plus you were sleeping out in the open where you were easy prey for any hyena." Bouncefoot pointed out with a patient smile.

          Rowan let out an annoyed growl, which quickly turned into a cough from his dry throat. He glared at her, "I'll tell you my name when I'm ready to." He spat, before he buried his muzzle under his paws and closed his eyes.

          "I'll find out eventually stranger, but have it your way." Bouncefoot relented, but had yet to sound angry with him for his less than polite replies. Rowan kept quiet and listened as the red lioness' pawsteps grew faint before he opened his eyes once again.

         The male thought back to what he had been through, and let out a quiet sigh. He needed to get a grip on himself. "You seem troubled Jovon." Jamar, Bouncefoot's father, commented.

          Rowan glanced over at the old lion with confusion evident on his features, "My name is not Jovon." He stated.

          He nodded, "With thousands of names I doubted I'd get it, so I called ya Jovon. It means majestic you know." Jamar explained with a knowing smile.

          Disbelief mixed with his confusion and hardened into anger, "There is nothing majestic about me you old coot." Rowan roared bitterly, although it sounded more like a croak. He knew that he was acting like a cub, an immature and self-centered one at that, but those words....being called 'majestic' by the lionesses father struck a nerve. He felt like he was being mocked.

          The old lion merely chuckled, "Oh you're certainly a bit plain yes," Jamar began and continued despite the angry snarl from Rowan, "but your mane is rather majestic. You look like  I always imagined the lion known simply as Mane from one of the old legends." He said.

          At this Rowan's snarl died in his throat, and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "You think I look like this Mane?" He asked cautiously.

          Jamar hummed, "Yep, I think you do." He confirmed with a pleasant smile. "My pride was raised knowing the story of Mane, the first lion to ever have a mane as we were told. I don't know if it's true or not, but it's what I was raised with. Wanna hear it?" He asked.

          His curiosity had been peaked, and so Rowan wearily nodded. He wanted to know who he was being compared to.

          With a struggle Jamar clambered to his paws and stood before Rowan. A hint of nervousness crept into his system once he saw the foreboding gleam in the old lions emerald gaze, and he found himself cowering back somewhat and playing it off as shifting to get more comfortable. "Perhaps not as much like him." Jamar noted after that display, and quickly shushed Rowan's retort with a well humored smiled and flick of his tail.

          He cleared his throat and began, "They say that many many years ago lions and lionesses looked practically the same. Sure the males were usually a bit bigger and maybe had broader shoulders, but they both were maneless. Along with being without manes it is said that lions were cowards, and hyena's easily took their prey and land. It was then that a lioness decided that she had had enough, and tried to rally her fellow lions to take back what was theirs. Her cry was met with silence, and she was disgusted with her kind. Even her closest friend, a lion named Tinder, shied away. The lionesses name was Isabelli. She felt that she had no choice but to fight for what she believed, even if no one would fight with her. Alone she stood no chance against the hyena's overwhelming numbers despite her larger size, and she had to flee. She was badly injured, and a lone lion happened across her. He did his best to care for her, and she told him of her plight in return, fully expecting him to do what all of the other lions had done and do nothing. This lion was different. He grew angered and swore to help her. Isabelli was more than surprised, and the two began to plan once she had recovered. They visited an ancient pool of legend, hoping that it would give them the power to succeed, but instead it just helped them unlock their true potential and let their true colors show. Isabelli, once a black and white lioness became purple and blue with onyx strands encasing her back fur. Her blue eyes became smokey and storm like, as if they knew the storm she was going to unleash. The lion, who was rather plain pelted, became stunning. His pelt looked like the cosmos, but he also gained a radiant mane. Isabelli said that he was like the sun with it's fire dancing around it, and he called it a mane. He told her that his name was Rye, but he was not going to call himself Mane. Together the two went back to their kind and went among the packs. Mane and Isabelli inspired the others, and saw their beautiful pelts as marks of power. Every lion who joined the cause gained a mane, and the lionesses grew jealous. Why did the males get the manes? Mane reminded everyone of what Isabelli had done, and that she alone had fought against the hyenas. He said that the manes the males had around their necks were to remind them that they could be courageous, and that it was a collar binding them to their prides. It bound them to their duties to defend their prides and the lionesses while they cared for their cubs. He said that the males were the ones that needed the reminder, and that the females already knew of their courage. When the time came they were victorious in fighting off the hyena's and reclaiming their land, and after the battle as they were checking over their injuries the lions discovered that Isabelli and Mane were nowhere to be found. They vanished, and their story was eventually lost to many prides. It is also said that lions born without manes today are proof of those lions that did not join Isabelli and Mane's cause. And that's the story." He said, his demeanor and tone reverting back to usual.

          Rowan blinked in a stunned manner after Jamar had finished the tale, and looked down at his paws while the old lion returned back to his place in the sun. He had certainly not expected that tale to be anything like that. "They saw their amazing pelts as signs of power?" He repeated quizzically. It reminded him of the change that Kama was making to the Pride of Red Reeds.

          "Yes, and wrongly so. It doesn't matter how handsome or beautiful and lion or lioness is. What matters is their heart and what is on the inside. Isabelli and Mane's pelts showed what they were on the inside. It showed their true colors, but it did not mean that they were powerful." The old lion answered. He didn't look at Rowan. "It's why I gave my daughter the name Bouncefoot, it's a bit of an odd one, but I wanted to give her something different to help her stand out despite her plain pelt." He said as an afterthought.

          A whine cut through the calm atmosphere that Jamar had fostered as easily as a heated knife cuts through butter, "Dad you know I love that story! Why couldn't you wait until I got back?" Bouncefoot complained.

          Before Jamar had an opportunity to answer his daughter, Rowan spoke. "My name is Rowanmane." He whispered.

          Bouncefoot's ears swiveled his way, and this time she was the one with the confused expression. "What was that?" She asked.

          He cleared his dry throat, and eagerly drank from the large soaked ball of moss that the lioness dropped before him moments after. "You wanted to know my name. It's Rowanmane." Rowan repeated more confidently. The water had done wonders for his voice, and it sound smoother and somewhat teasing.

          For a moment Rowan made eye contact with Jamar, and the old lion smiled that knowing smile.

          Rowan was going to start over, and with a new beginning comes a new name. Rowan was Rowanmane, and he was going to show the world who he was, for better or for worse.
____________________________

Lions and Lionesses':

^ Jamar

^ Bouncefoot

^ Ghostbriar

^ Isabelli

^ Mane [Rye]

^ Tinder