A/N: So this is my first story on here. I hope it is to everyones liking. Reviews are always welcome, along with any sort of criticism. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nintendo has sole rights to the Fire Emblem franchise. I am just borrowing.

Skrimir growls leaving the court room, ripping off the constricting shirt as he goes. There is no way he is agreeing to such an act, especially if he has to be in such flashy garments; even if his uncle did approve of them. The popmous nobles where not going to chain him down under their authority with one of their tramps. Not if he had anything to say, or do, about it.

Reaching his room, he discarded the shredded left overs of a rather courtly shirt and hurridly gets into his own, well worn clothes. They were much more comfortable, and much less stupid in his opinion. Besides, he thought, that would just be giving into them.

Skrimir turns his head as he catches snatches of conversation coming down the hall. He glares at the unseen figures and hurries off, not chancing a meeting with Ranulf, knowing that the cat would somehow convince him to go back and endure the lectures. He doesn't know how Ranulf does it, but irritates him to no end that he, a lion, should be subdued like a kitten by someone smaller than him.

Instantly he regrets his thoughts. Ranulf has been a good friend and advisor to him, helping him understand the beorcs that they had had to work with in the war a couple years ago. Not to mention Ranulf had saved his hide more than one time when his hot-headedness got the better of him.

He snorts and rolls his eyes as he comes to a heavily forested area. All of Gallia was like a playground, but Skrimir wanted the denser woods away from any of the civilizations. He sniffs the air a moment, then makes the change to beast form. It was a quick process, Skrimir having done this many times, and the only indication of it happening was the red light that emanated from his body. The light soon disappeared, and in that place was a large red lion. Not as large as his uncle, he concedes, or Giffca, but bigger than the tigers and cats.

He flexing his claws, digging slightly at the loose earth, and feels the tremors of distant Gallians running, hunting. He shakes his mane and stretches, then lifts his head up to the sky and gives a fearsome roar. Birds soar from the trees, squawking indignantly as they fly off. Skrimir takes that as a signal and dashes off.

At first, he follows the birds, keeping them insight as the alight in new trees. The thought to scare them again crossed his mind, but he decided against it, opting for stealth instead. The lions roar can be very distinctive, leading him to being found easily.

So, pushing on, he weaves through the thick trees, brushing up against them slightly. His claws dig into the earth, forming a grip for him as his muscles bunch and he leaps up onto a boulder only to jump again into the gripping foilage. He is swift, he is silent, and he is sure of himself as he travels, having no particular destination in mind but the freedom that he has. It is exhilirating, and addictive. The only thing that could top this would be battle.

Eventually Skrimir slows down, lightly padding his way to a pond that he had smelled earlier. He was in desperate need of some water, his pants sounding dry and almost rattly. Above his breathing he can hear light splashing and his ears perk slightly. Who would be this far out into the wild? I didn't think anyone knew of this but me... he thinks moving slower. Making a split second decision, Skrimir changes back into his humanoid form as he creeps closer.

Getting to the edge brush that conceals the pond, he crouches down and lifts a hand to move a branch away from his sight. What he sees he could not describe, failing at finding the right words and slight awe struck at the same time. A purple goddess danced in the water, shimmering slightly in the noon light, bare but for her jewlery and markings. She had light purple hair that went with her tail and ears, a lilac color. Or is it periwinkle? Skrimir thinks, spellbound by the beauty and grace of the woman.

Shaking his head, he slowly lets the branch come back in place and quickly retreats from the pond. At a safe distance, he lets out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding as his heart continues to race. He glances back in the direction of the pond, feeling a bond tug at him and growls at himself. He makes the change again and runs off back the way he came, water completely forgotton.

The woman lingers in his mind as he runs, not because she was beautiful, strong or graceful. No, those things were a give in. Even her coloring, unique as it was, paled in comparison.

No, the woman lingered in his mind because she was a lioness.