MP: Nita by KaiKenNatsuki on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

Nita

Identity

Name: Nita

Meaning: "Bear” in Choctaw (Native American)

Pronunciation: Nee-tuh

Gender: NB (AFAB)

Pronouns: Any pronouns work, goes by she/her or anything else

Age: Adult

Birthday: August 8th

Sign: Leo

Species: Striped Hyena

Birth Pride: Kwamani

Current Pride: None

Physical

Written Appearance: slightly bulky, athletic

Notable Features

Size: Massive yeen

Build: Slightly muscular

Height: 4'4 ft

Eye Color: Storm gray

Pelt Color: Blondie with stripes

Tail Color: Cream

Mutations: Gigantism

Voice: hoarse, slightly melodious

Voice actor: Korra - The Legend of Korra

Theme song: Playground - Bea Miller

Scars: A single streak scar crossing her face horizontally

Personality

:bulletgreen: Loyal

:bulletgreen: Fearless

:bulletgreen: Just

:bulletgreen: Reliable

:bulletred: Impatient

:bulletred: Stubborn

:bulletred: Aggressive

:bulletred: Cold

Family

Biological Family Tree

Sexual Information

Relationship Status: Single

Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic

Sexual Orientation: Lesbian

Current Attractions:

[name here | Age here | Pride here | Status here]

Past Attractions:

[name here | Age here | Pride here | Status here]

Preferences:

Other

Favorites:

History:

In the vast lands ruled by the Kwamani pride, there was an unusual sight—a small hyena cub, malnourished and dying, was taken in by a lion healer known for his skill in herbs and remedies. Nita was an orphan, found abandoned near the pride’s territory when she was no more than four weeks old. The healer, a stern yet compassionate lion named Jabari, had taken pity on the trembling creature and decided to raise her. He named her Nita, because she was so fluffy, she looked like a little bear cub at first.

At first, Nita was full of life. She clung to Jabari, following him everywhere, always seeking his approval and affection. Her neediness was evident in every nuzzle, every wag of her tail, every eager glance she cast his way. She looked up to him not just as a guardian but as a figure of safety in a world that had been so cruel to her. Jabari, for a time, indulged her. He let her nestle close to him during the chilly nights and allowed her to shadow him while he worked.

But as Nita grew, so did Jabari’s expectations. The Kwamani pride was not a place for the weak or the coddled, and Jabari began to see Nita’s affection as a sign of frailty. The pride was known for its strength, with even their healers being capable of defending themselves. Jabari knew that if Nita was to survive among them, she couldn’t remain the needy, soft-hearted cub she had once been. She had to become strong—stronger than the average hyena, for her place in the pride would always be questioned.

“Nita,” he would say, his voice devoid of the warmth it once held, “you must learn to fight, to be tough. The Kwamani respect only strength. You can’t always hide behind me.”

At first, Nita didn’t understand. She tried harder to please him, becoming more affectionate, more attentive to his needs, hoping that her love and devotion would earn back his warmth. But the more she tried, the more distant Jabari became. He pushed her into rigorous training, forcing her to spar with the pride’s young lions, to hunt in dangerous territories, and to survive on her own for days. Nita, who had once thrived on love and care, found herself growing bitter and cold.

She stopped seeking his approval. She stopped nuzzling him in the mornings and no longer sought him out when the nights grew cold. Instead, she focused on the tasks he set for her, but no matter how hard she tried, it was never enough. The more she fought, the more she hunted, the more Jabari criticized her. He saw every weakness, every moment of hesitation, as proof that she didn’t belong.

One fateful day, after a particularly grueling training session where Nita had been bested by a lion half her age, Jabari made a decision. “You’re not fit for the Kwamani,” he said coldly, his eyes void of any affection. “You’ll never be strong enough.”

Nita didn’t argue. She didn’t cry or plead as she might have once. Instead, she merely bowed her head, accepting the judgment she had feared for so long. Jabari led her out of the pride’s territory, far beyond the familiar savannas and into the desolate stretches of the desert. There, under the blistering sun, with no shelter in sight, he left her.

“See if the Jangwa will take you in. You should be more to their liking,” he said before turning away, leaving Nita alone in the vast emptiness.

For a long time, Nita stood there, watching as the figure of the lion she once loved disappeared into the horizon. The heat pressed down on her, the silence of the desert deafening. But she didn’t cry. She didn’t call out after him. The Nita who would have done so was gone, replaced by someone who had learned the hard way that love and need were weaknesses in a world that valued strength above all.

Days passed. The desert was harsh and unforgiving, but she survived. She scavenged for food, finding what little sustenance the barren land could offer, mostly dead and rotten prey that other animals would never eat. She found water in hidden oases, and she learned to navigate the scorching sands by the stars at night. Every day was a battle, and every battle she won made her stronger.

From the moment Jabari left her alone in the desolate wasteland, Nita was thrust into a fight for her life. The desert was unforgiving, and her thick fur, suited for the cooler nights of the savanna, became her greatest enemy under the relentless sun. The heat was suffocating, pressing down on her like a weight she couldn’t escape. She panted constantly, her tongue lolling out in a desperate attempt to cool herself, but it was never enough. The sun scorched her skin through her fur, and her paws burned on the hot sand. As the days turned into weeks, Nita’s body began to betray her. Her fur, once thick and healthy, started falling out in clumps, leaving patches of raw, sunburned skin exposed. She was constantly dizzy, her head throbbing with the pain of dehydration and heat exhaustion. Her eyes grew dull, and every breath she took felt like she was inhaling fire.

But the hyena refused to give up. Somewhere deep inside, the hatred and angst that remained from her mentor’s abandonment kept her moving forward. She couldn’t allow him to be right about her. She knew that if she stayed in the desert, she would die. She had to escape, had to find her way back to the savanna.

With every victory over prey, every scavenge, she felt a part of her heart grow colder. The affection she once held for Jabari turned into resentment, then into nothing at all. She had no room for emotions anymore—only survival. The hyena who had been cast out by the lions, who had been deemed too weak to survive, had not only lived but thrived. She was no longer the needy cub who had once looked to a lion for protection. She was a warrior, a survivor forged by the desert’s trials, with a heart as unyielding as the land she now called home.

Though she never returned to the Kwamani, tales of the striped hyena’s strength and resilience reached their ears. Some said that Jabari, upon hearing these stories, felt a pang of regret, a whisper of the bond he had once shared with the hyena he had raised. Nonetheless, she never heard back from the lion and even if she had, she wouldn't have cared. She had found her place, and it was far away from the lions who had once deemed her unworthy.

Nita was no longer the cub who sought approval, who needed love to survive. She had become something else entirely—something ruthless, cold-blooded, and, in her own way, free to do and be as she pleased.

Other: RP preferably on discord.