Utora's white fur was dusted over with the sands of the Outlands, her paws ached from a long trek from the Elephant Graveyard...countless of nights walks away. She had fufilled her semi-anual endeavor to the ancient battlegrounds and now made her return to her homeland. The air blossomed in her lungs from dry and gritty to humid and moist, as well as heavy and thick. She coughed lightly to adjust herself.

She had lingered on the outskirts of the Jungle for quite some time before entering into the dense coverage. Her mind was fixated on cleansing waters for both her throat and fur. The scent of fresh waters grew stronger, but something else grew even more strong. Utora's muscles tensed as she slowed her gait to a creeping walk. The underbrush covered her and blotted out her sight. She was use to this environment more than the wide open lands of the Outlands, or even the dank, depressing landscape of the Graveyards. Sounds of the jugnle had ceased around her and onward, which meant something of importance disrupted the natural cycle of things here. She felt the weight of the threat, but curiosity struck her more as she hoped to stay downwind. Though, here, the winds were non-existant..just a lingering sheet of moist air and the thick scents of waters and tropical foilage.

Utora crept about, closer to the strong, foriegn scent. She found herself laying close to rotting logs, peering between limbs and greenery. There, the water. Also, strangers. The scent of males concerned her more for her own well being as she sunk down low instinctively, licking her lips as she tensed up. Her blue eyes locked onto obscurred images.

As she looked closer, her thoughts wondered about her king or queen, or respective authority. Pridelanders? The thought perturbed her more. Her training required her to attack, but as logically as the situation permitted. Maybe they were refugees from some other conflict, as the Jungle typically gathered all sorts of outcasts and strangers......rouges.... Utora grit her teeth. How frequently male rogues appeared looking to mate abd take over this area for themselves. As the thought of this provoked her, she could make out two male lions. A black and a tan couple. The color intrigued her, she feared more aggression from the darker lion, it just seemed the way of things. Perhaps it was because of the blackness of her previous leader's pelt.

The uncertainty of not knowing who actually was in control of these lands now, while she'd been gone so long, left her without many reasonable options. It was not very smart of her to thrust herself into the open either, not against two male lions. She was still rather young and was accustomed to her mother's assistance in these things..that and the familiarity of her pride...which had all dissolved as of late. Utora remained gripped behind the brush observing, listening intently to the strangers. It was only a matter of time before they caught her scent or her image for that matter.