(I... may have gone overboard.)
Andreas had been following the lion pride for days now, her thin form reliant on the flesh that the lioness' hunted. It was a dangerous game she played, scavenging from the dangerous felines. She'd follow the huntresses as they left, waiting as they would kill prey for their pride. Often it was a gazelle, or even a zebra. She wasn't picky on what she ate, she would have to work quickly to retrieve what she needed to feed herself before other scavengers showed up to stake their claim.
Tonight wasn't any different.
The small, frail tribe girl crept after the lionesses, keeping her distance. She felt safer if she could just use their tracks in the near pitch black, but the lionesses had almost accepted her presence on the hunts. As long as she didn't get too close to them, they didn't mind her being there. Andreas paused, straining to listed with her head cocked in an almost animalistic way. The smell of animal dun filled her nostrils, the bray of what she assumed was a zebra nearby. The lionesses were on the hunt.
Lowering herself to the ground, she rested her knuckles on the grass in front of her, her stance resembling a gorilla as she could only barely make out the shapes of the lionesses in the moonlight. She had decided to name them.
Sahari, the eldest and lead lioness, was closest to the zebra. Her body low to the ground, Andreas watched the deadly feline creep forward, only pausing when the zebra raised it's head, sensing danger. Ga'gakatan and Derea, the younger but expierenced lionesses, slowly circled around the zebra like a wolf pack might.
The world was suddenly thrown into darkness; Andreas glanced up to see a dark cloud had covered the moon. It was never a good sign. Turning her gaze blindly to where she believed the lionesses stayed on the prowl, a shriek was cut short by the growling and sounds of a struggle.
She listened in silence for a while, the tearing of meat and chewing of it. With the cloud cover, she couldn't see much, if at all, but she could hear after many months of following the pride. Recognizing the sounds of leaving, she scampered forward to scavenge what she could from the dead zebra, pulling out a knife made from a sharpened lion's fang. Stabbing it into the carcass, she began to shred it into small pieces, in which she stuffed into a patch of her dress.
Focused on her work, she had forgotten about the other scavengers. A soft growl pierced the air, causing Andreas to pause, her heart leaping into her throat. The pale moonlight split through the clouds, illuminating the area with a white incandescence. Slowly moving her gaze forwards, her eyes were met by a pair of indigo, larger than a lion's. It's face was hidden by a white pearl skull, and it didn't take her long to realize she was looking upon a myth; the Avidae.
It's pelt was the purest white she had ever seen, and she felt the urge to reach out and touch the creature, before it slaughtered her. Never breaking eye contact, she slowly eased forward, pausing when it grunted at her. She met it's gaze again, and it hadn't moved, seemingly encouraging her. Nodding slightly, she rested her hand on the creature's shoulder, staining it's perfect white fur with the red blood of the Zebra.
A bond was shared then, and she waited as the Avidae ate the rest of the scraps from the herbivore before rising to her feet slowly. Hesitant at first, she followed the Avidae as it left the carcass. Draping an arm over it's pale shoulder, she leaned on it slightly as it pushed back against her with a soft nudge.
It was many months later when Andreas decided to paint it's moon-washed pelt, as well as painting it's beautiful mask. She called him Amitola, the name of the myth of the main who painted the rainbow. To her, that's what her Avidae was; as beautiful and quiet as the rays of light.
