Her scars were more mature than she was.

She had the mind of a teenager and the heart of a child, she was beautiful in her own way, strong more in spirit then in muscles, her mouth had caused her to get in trouble more then once and her excuses of having a small, isolated pride and little social contact as a child did little to stop others from attacking. Still, Carmilla pressed on as she always had. She joined her mother on occasion, but this lioness was solo. Perhaps one day she could join a pride, start a litter and have, if not a mate, then at least a breeding male. The lioness was young, but she knew in her heart and mind that no matter how young she was, she just had to keep going.

No matter how many times she was scarred.