Bahgera
Pet Name: Bahgera
Owner: Bahgera
Theme / Type: Wintercursed Haruba
Gender: Female
MisticPal Name: Squeaks
MisticPal Age: 5055 Days
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 28 / 28
Strength: 15
Defense: 0
Speed: 18
Intellect: 15
Misticpower: 30
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 2/1254 [ View Foods ]
1. - Scarab Soup
2. - Scorpion on a Stick
2. - Scorpion on a Stick
If lost, please return to Bahgera. <3
Some of us are born knowing who we will be, what we will become. And some of us are not. Personally, I was one of those that fell soundly into the second category. I was just a normal haruba kite, born with a sister in the middle of the blazing desert heat. My life was pretty simple. I quickly established dominance over my sister, and while we were with our mother, the little she-cat was my servant, happy to comply with my every whim. That's probably a lot of my problem, right there. I never had to do anything for myself. Perhaps if I had, I wouldn't have ended up in this mess...
It all started out so easy. I left my mother and my sister and struck out on my own. Perhaps a bit early, but then I had always been the impatient sort. I wandered for days until I found the perfect place to settle. It was a small oasis in the middle of the blistering desert, surrounded on all sides by lush greenery and absolutely teeming with life as all creatures, both big and small, came to drink there. The most picturesque hunting grounds if I'd ever seen one. But of course, there was no way such a pretty piece of land wasn't already claimed. It was an older Haruba that I met there, his fur bleached by the desert sun to match the land around him. I met him with claws extended, of course, and used my youth and superior size against him. The old one did not last long.
What I did not know then, as the old one slunk off to tend his wounds in some unknown part of the desert, was that he had a mate with him. That mate, seeing that her male had been driven off, quickly ran after him, her green fur flashing in the bright light. I paused briefly, to admire her retreating form. If only I'd realized then what I knew a few moments later, I would have run the she-cat into the ground and drug her back to the den by the scruff of her neck. I didn't, though, and by the time I did, the pair was long out of site. There was no way I was leaving this prime patch of land unprotected, so I let them be.
As I was settling into my new home, I realized something about myself. I was, for the most part, a rather generous person. I stalked around the oasis several times before they gave themselves away. A soft whimper, just on the edge of my hearing, that was all. But it was enough to snap my head around to the thick tangle of bushes. I stalked closer to it, my hackles raised, hissing in warning. The sound did not come again, but now that the silence had been broken, I was not going to stop until I had seen every last inch of my new home. What I found in those bushes both shocked and appalled me.
There were kites. Three of them.
One, the smallest, was still and cold, his white fur stained red from the punctures in his neck. Obviously his mother had tried to move him, but had ended up killing him instead. I turned away from him, my eyes searching the deepest recesses of that dark, green cavern. I saw them, then. Two more kites, huddled together and trembling with their fear. They were about halfway grown and obviously healthy, unlike their dead brother. In front was the she-kite, beautiful in her deep pink and orange coat. Though she trembled, she blocked her brown brother and hissed valiantly at me in an effort to be brave.
Despite myself, I tossed my head back and chuckled, my fur settling back into place. I knew I should find their presence offensive and distasteful, but I simply found them amusing. What I did not understand was how their parents could have so callously abandoned them. Thinking back to the moments before, I felt disgusted at my admiration of the retreating green coat of the she-cat. How could she leave her own kites? I would have been devastated if my own mother had done such a thing to me.
And so it was that I found myself, barely an adult myself, and a male at that, taking care of two kites that I had no relationship to at all. The first thing I did, after assuring the two that I was not going to kill them, was take the white kite outside, out into the hot sands, and bury him beneath the surface. It seemed more fitting for him, rather than let him be ravaged by the scavengers of the desert. After that, it was simply a matter of convincing the kites that I was not going to suddenly turn on them. It was an easy thing to do. Mostly, I just ignored them. Day by day, they ventured closer to me, bent their heads to drink with me in their sites, even began to sleep together rather than taking turns on watch.
Somehow we became a content, happy little family unit, and the kites grew.
However, as all kites do, they eventually grew too big, too self sufficient, to remain at my oasis. The male left quickly, never quite comfortable in my presence. The female stayed for a while longer, several years in fact, our territories overlapping so much that she was often at the oasis. And yet one day, she was gone as well. I waited for that she-cat for many seasons, but she did not return. Eventually, I had to accept that she had moved on, and I found my heart breaking. I had come to love the brave little kite, and her leaving felt to me like a betrayal. It felt to me like she had abandoned me, as her mother had abandoned her.
The oasis became a distasteful place to me after that. The food I caught turned my stomach, the water tasted rancid with the flavor of betrayal. So I moved on, leaving my perfect home that I had fought and won to whoever might come across it. I traveled far and wide, across the desert and out of it, through plains, towns, and even to the very edge of the world where the water began. Eventually I found myself in the mountains, where it was so cold that not a single soul was near. The hunting was poor, and the weather even worse, but there in the cold silence, I finally found my peace. And there is where I have stayed, my coat taking on the very essence of the mountain. I am one with the mountain, and it is one with me. Here I will remain, until the day the cold wraps me in her sweet, loyal embrace.
The mountain will not betray me. Of that I am certain.
| Mirona says I play by my OWN rules. |
| Mirona says Bah. Mice are for eating, not playing. |
| Mirona says I want to eat your mouse. |
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