I, my father, his father before him, and all the rest have all been named in the same ritualistic way. Our names are made up of characters, often referred to as 'marks (singular: mark, obviously).' Each consists of a single syllable and every full grown lion has four of these marks.

The first two are our father's mark, and obviously enough, there are called 'sire marks.' Sire marks are the last two of our father's name. The third, called a 'queen mark,' and is chosen by our mothers when we are born. The last comes when a cub does something of worth, such as taking down our first prey or otherwise helping the pride to survive. This is simply referred to as a 'chosen' mark, as we ourselves can choose it. The strongest of the liter is allowed their fourth immediately.*

Males without a full four marks are not allowed to find mates, nor can they start a pride.

My grandsire's dub was Ionitri (Ah! I love his name! E-yon-ee-tree!). On the night of his first successful hunt,** he added as his chosen mark, 'se.' Se, in our tongue, means 'speed.' Therefore, Sir Ionitri became Ionitrise. (Personally, I do like Ionitri better. It just flows more, dontcha think? Then again, no one asked my opinion, hmph!)

My father, Trisevi***, was the strongest of his litter, and so received his fourth mark immediately. He picked 'an,' which alone means 'strength.















You actually scrolled all the way down here? O________.

Females, conversely, do not have such silly rituals that us pretentious males do. They, quite simply, have suffixes to their name that denote rank. Their mother chooses their names and that is that is that. It may be any number of marks (and for you 'slow' creatures, that's an amount between one and infinity.).****

Though, there are problems with this, too. I suppose they are merely trying to be funny, but it seems to be a new fad to name your cub-girls insanely long names, such as one I knew as Anatrenegrahedanesedelamenatatyeshe.*****

Of course, there is the exact opposite (like Mur, meaning Happy), in addition.

For the most part, females enjoy a lovely range of names.

However, somewhere in history an idiot-of-a-son-of-a-Raaah! decided that there wasn't enough confusion in the world, and asked the Council of the Prides to add in something to make life hard.

And that was the suffixes.

Female felines have a variety of suffixes, depending on what pride and territory you've managed to step into. Some of the more confusing provinces have up to seventy three suffixes all together. For sanity's sake, however, the most popular ones are as follows, and luckily, they are only five in number:

-ca
-ka
-ma
-ta
-sa.
And I shall explain each in a moment.

-ca is a lovely-dovey term that mothers will add to their cub's names to make them feel special. It doesn't really do anything, and it's not really an achievement. But boy! You should really see some of those little cubs shine when their parents call them so. Psh! You'd think they'd've just won themselves a free lifetime supply of antelope and watering holes. Hmph, the ignorance of children!

-ka is a bit more respectable. It simply means that the lady in question has passed her sixth moon and no longer needs the milk of her mother. Still, it's not like anyone will be bowing in reverence any time soon.

-ma. Definately a big jump from -ka. It's a feline that has had her first litter. That's it.

-ta may come within a day of -ma, and some doesn't even ever achieve it. -ta may only be added to Lone females. Ladies in a pride might have a chance at this one, but it's unlikely, as her male will usually take care of business. -ta means a female has thrice successfully defended her territory and five times expanded her area by at least a half a mile. It's a very-much respectable name, and lower maidens are expected to lower their heads in reverence. No male may attempt anything on her, if you know what I mean? A -ta is allowed to leave her pride anytime is she should choose with little to no repercussions. In addition, any male will gladly take her into his pride.

-sa. Lo and behold! For some odd reason that I may not tell, it just so happens that 'sage' and 'sa' start the same way! And -sa pretty much is the elevated status of sage! And I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that Kim****** couldn't think of anything better!

It is possible to go from -ta to -sa. This is pretty much the only exception to the rule, the rest must go in order. There are three ways to obtain the rank of -sa, and those are as follows.

1) This is the easiest- lie. For someone to call themselves -sa is a great undertaking, number one. It is such a respectable title that even the word 'respect' does not contain the reverence that one shows to a rank such as this. Also, people often ask -sa's to bestow boons upon litters and hold rituals and ceremonies that only "The Secret Council of the Sa" know. So, if one idiot wants to call themselves -sa, no one will argue, as the title is so divine, that they'll eventually regret it, one day.

2) Add a suggestion to the Council that saves seven lives at the least. And it has to work, it can't be hypothetical.

3) For Lone females, one can defend their territory for ten years without giving an inch, expanding their lands at least seven miles.

4) The last and most common way to achieve -sa-ness is to fight with another in witnessed battle (meaning, no bloody deaths aye?) with the suffix -sa and win. The one whom you fight must be agreeing.

And so what are the benefits of -sa? Not only does everyone throw themselves at your feet whenever you walk by, you also get a free zebra every month (and keep in mind that the majority of the -sa's are old farts), a heightened position in the Council, and no one may challenge your lands and your rights to hold them. And that means no one. -sa is sometimes considered to be welfare for the old, for reasons in the parenthesizes above. Free food? No challenges? Hmmph. I want to be a -sa! How unfortunate I'm male. -sigh-

Anyhow, that was female names. Not particularly complicated, but it took a long time to explain -laugh-.

It's rather intense.

But hey, you wanted to know, right? D:

Footnotes:


*Though, this often leads to dastardly results, and the rule should definitely be revised. (As in, the time when Raenmaraaah named himself as a cub. One should note that "Raaah!" is a noise that a cub will generally make as all youngun's will, and is also a terrible swear in the feline language. Almost comparable to your ****, yet worse still.)

**Males only hunt once, and usually that's to obtain their chosen mark. Food-gathering is for the esteemed females, for the most part.

***[Treh-sea-vi]
Tri: Handsome
Se: Wise
Vi: Great (size-wise)

****Though perhaps I speak wrongly here. Human tongue is so unspecific. No, a female may NOT have zero mark. Hmph.

*****[Ahn-aht-rhen-egh-rah-don-es-dal-em-an-ahtat-ye-she]
Meaning: Beautiful Raging Wind on the Valleys Behind the Refrigerator With Love

An: Beautiful
At: Raging
Ren: Wind
Eg: on
Rah: the
Don: Valleys
Esdel: Behind
Am: the
Enatat: Refrigerator (Cold box)
Ye: With
She: Love

...But I called her Anrah for short.

******Wait a minute! What am I saying? Who is this Kim of which I speak?

I think she was trying to protect me.

A cold, driving rain had begun to fall not an hour ago. Rain was scarce here, and most would rejoice at the heavy downpour. We should have been, too.

But we were not.

They had come as the first crack of thunder rent the world. Their appearance in the shining lightning made they seem as demons from Hell, come to punish us for what we had done.

What had we done?

My brothers and I had been birthed not more than six suns ago; our eyes were barely opened and our ears were sensitive beyond your human understandings. The screams that rang out that accursed night were like thousands of shrieking souls, bent on spilling our unfortunate blood.

I do not lie. I do not remember much from then, only the terrifying screams and howls. I remember being suffocatingly warm, cushioned on all sides by my family's fur. They were against me on all sides. It should have been comfortably snug, save for the unsteady thump of mother's heart, much too fast and much too anxious for me to bear.

It was so, so sudden.

They were big, and ugly, and cruel, and ruthless. They moved upright, clasping sticks in their forepaws that roared at us, like a clash of claws on rock, only a hundred thousand times louder.

Wounds on the body heal, wounds on the mind mend crookedly. Scars remain, no matter how long time takes - Memories are distorted. Surely, one can die from a wound to one's form, yet which is worse?

The stick cracked again and again. The being I had come to know as 'mother' fell, spattering us with her red.

Red, hot, sticky, burning me, covering me, screaming, roars, cries, moans, hurting me. Why? What? Who?

It burned! It burned! It stung our eyes, clogged our noses and our mouths.

Mommy, why are you hurting me?

Fear coursed heavily through my liter's veins. It was a terribly smell, a terrible feeling. I wanted to run, stumble away, anything to escape the red hot.

We had just opened our eyes, our young spirits had only just begun to take in the world's wonders.
And this was to be our first sight?

More pain. Teeth closed around my unfortunate scruff, much harder than my mother should have. My body was trembling as it had never before. Why was it trembling? I couldn't help it, could barely... breathe...

Thud.

I hit the ground hard and immediately looked up to see my torturer. A young male. Had it not happened like this, he would have been thrown from the pride... soon...

The sticks were quieter now. The evil beings on two legs roared with less ferocity. I could no longer see the tainted picture of slaughter.

It was almost peaceful.

Reprieve?

Then there was black.

In the works.

Evidently, my unfinished life story bothers you, am I correct?

Eitherhow, I shall sum it up for you.

I was born in the summer of Fire, in which the land rages through the world with barely concealed anger. It is perhaps the most perilous of times, because there is nothing, not even rain, that quenches its fearsome destruction.

After a human hunting party killed my tribe (I had been pushed far from the massacre by a friendly male), I sat helpless, waiting for anyone to come.

Ette did. In her kindness, she fed my surviving sister and I, until we grew up and repaid her by helping defend her territory.

For a time, we were happy. However, in time, we learned that Ette was 'rogue,' or an outsider, a criminal. Every few years, a pride called the 'Kiatee' would come to arrest her, and every time she pushed them away. Old age is a terrible thing, and in the end, we were torn away and watched her die.

Murderous with vengeance, my sister and I ransacked the offending pride and razed their territory to the ground. Thus defeating the enemy, we settled onto the land, having also inherited Ette's. (so in the end, we were left with a few good miles of territory, much more than we needed, or had ever hoped for)

Of course, killing a supposedly 'Tarnarok' (meaning innocent, or well respected) pride meant that we were to become rogues as well. A lion without Tarnarok is supposed to have no rights, and therefore the inability to hold land. My sister and I were besieged with other prides attacking our lands, much more than was the norm, but we held every inch of it.

We were young, and bold, and reckless with hate for the world. We were invincible, angry, like gods - to be reckoned with.

But there was no respect for us. We were little in the world, even though we held one of the largest plots of land in the entire Savannah.

Time passed, and eventually one especially bold lion got the better of my sister. I was not there in time to prevent her death - I had been protecting the eastern land. That had been their plan the entire time.

Of course, even in my youth and vigor, I was unable to match these new adversaries, and was forced to give up. I was led to their camp a defeated beast, without a relative to cry to.

In their territory, I was little more than a slave. They were angry that my sister had chosen death over servitude, and I would have chosen the same if they hadn't watched me so closely.

I was glad I did not get the chance to. During my stay there, I learned of Ette's transgressions, and fell into turmoil.

It had been 4 long years that I had stayed there, and soon enough, they forgot of my existence - I had been a good little pet, in all ways broken. They hadn't expected me to escape, yet I did, if only because they dropped their guard.

I made it difficult for them. Four years is enough time to acquire the scent of a certain pride, and I had long since stopped smelling of a loner. I wandered.

That's when I met her.

And by her, I mean Arene. To make a long story short, she took me in and cared for me in a great human house. I ended up joining her on several 'missions.

Oh, and beyond that, I cannot say, because that'd spoil the Debt plotline, too bad :( You'll have to check out her page for more info on it ;D!

By Kim:

This'll be something... someday x_O

Fanarts by Friends

:O IT'S MY HEAD! Thanks, Jhess

ESTA MI CABEZA.
(AGAIN xD)
THANK YOU NOCHI 8D

And two amazing pretties by Mythish!

I need to find another language to say that x3
Tis gorgeous, Speckled! Thank yooooou ^-^

SQUEEE! Thank you, Caileh ^____^!

ASDFADSFETYTR!! Gracias, Carrot!

IS LOVE LIME :O