[PRP] Homesick

[SilverLutz]

Leaving the Bonelands had been one of the hardest things Tawa had ever done in his life. At the time he hadn't thought much about how he'd feel once he left, it was more a sense of duty to the place he called home that pushed him to make the decision. Now that he'd been in the rogue lands on his own for a few weeks he couldn't help but wonder if he made the right choice. For a long time he'd felt as though there was nothing for him in the pride any longer with the death of Umthunzi, but something kept him there. Perhaps it had been the fact that it was where he'd been happiest in his life, or maybe because he had children in the pride. Either way, he saw the Bonelands as his home in a way the Firekin had never been.

That was why he'd felt he'd had to leave, to protect the pride he cared for so deeply. Now that he was on his own for the first time in years it gave Tawa time to think, to remember, and to regret. He wanted to go back. He missed the pride, the lands, everything, even if they were struggling to eat. He'd managed to gain a bit of weight back being out here, catching small game and finding kills others had abandoned, but somehow the food wasn't as satisfying as it normally would have been. He had a bitter taste in his mouth knowing he could never go back to the Bonelands unless he went to challenge the Abholi themselves and that would never happen. How could one lion take on three?

Tawa tried not to think about that too much, hoping that focusing on what was in front of him might give him back his spark. One of his daughters had left the pride quite some time ago, perhaps he could find her and settle wherever she now lived. He had no idea where Ukufana had gone so searching for her would be difficult, but he'd followed Umthunzi to the Bonelands. He could surely do the same with their daughter.

It was a plan he wasn't too set on though, and for the past few days Tawa had noticed he was trailing a small group of lions, passing through lands they'd walked through. From the scents and markings left behind he made the assumption that it was a male with a few females. Perhaps, if he caught up with them, they'd be willing to let him travel with them. He could be an asset in hunting if they wanted or maybe simply another set of claws and teeth for protection. Either way, Tawa was lonely and hoped he could persuade the group to let him join simply so he wasn't alone any more.

Tawa took his time catching up to the group, hopeful that he wouldn't be met with violence. The sun was low on the horizon when he finally spotted the group gathered under a tree, resting for the time being. To say he was stunned by the male of the group was an understatement. Tawa was a big lion. Even among Firekin standards he was large. He wasn't nearly filled out to his full muscular form thanks to the hunger he'd experienced in the Bonelands but he was still a formidable opponent to the average lion. But the lion Tawa was staring at was not the average lion. He made Tawa look like the average lion.

Second guessing himself for only a moment, the vagabond shook his head to clear his mind. He had to do this, size be damned. It had nothing to do with the male's personality. Tawa was big but he was kind, whose to say this pale male wasn't as well? He gave a low chuff of greeting as he approached to warn the group of his arrival so as not to startle them, stopping a respectable distance away. He didn't say anything at first but kept his body language loose and submissive, his head and tail low, eyes on the massive paws of the male.

"I mean no harm," he said quietly, cursing himself at the defeat in his tone of voice. "I'm no threat to you or the lionesses. My name is Tawa'shilah." He stopped himself there, not wanting to dump his sob story on the male. He had to let him set the tone here, to give Tawa information on if he was willing to tolerate his presence or if he was going to chase him off.  

[Quaji]

Loneliness came hand in hand with Nkosinhle's existence as a god, as much as breathing was part of being alive. Mortals were fleeting, aggressively beautiful creatures that burned so bright for so few years, striving to make their mark on a world that would forget them as soon as they were dead and gone. Whispers and memories were all that remained. In contrast, the gods were indifferent, selfish beings that worked primarily for their own amusement, and own motives, and goals.

Despite their flaws, he could not help but admire the passion in the eyes of the lions he surrounded himself with. Their drive gave him purpose; to protect them, to allow them the longest, fullest lives possible. In his younger years, mayhap would have looked upon them with disgust, viewing them as pale imitations of Mkodi's divine creations.

So when a bright red body approached his small pride as they basked in the sun, the gentle waves of a pond lapping at their toes, Nkosinhle did not chase the interloper away, instead biding his time to watch as he came closer. Lowering his head, the white lion whispered into the ear of one of his lounging lionesses, earning roaring laughter from her as he straightened back to his full height.

"A threat? Little cub, mine own lionesses are more of a threat. Come, rest."  

[SilverLutz]

Tawa kept his eyes trained on the massive paws, not wanting to be disrespectful by looking the leader of the pride in the eye, but wanting to keep an eye out in case he had to beat a hasty retreat. The laughter and the reply he got made him look up, an expression of confusion on his face. Little cub? Sure, this pale lion was large, but size didn't relate to age. Tawa was far from a cub, he was a father and, unbeknownst to him, a grandfather. But something in the voice of the other male was...paternal in a way. As if he was Tawa's father.

Odd.

He decided not to dwell on that for the moment and instead bowed his head in gratitude. He was being permitted to join them, at least for a moment. He moved slowly to the edge of the water and took a long, satisfying drink before focusing on the group he had joined. The lionesses were all...normal, really. Nothing about them stood out. They weren't particularly large or magnetic as the male was and Tawa found his gaze drifting back to him once more.

"Thank you," he said, his voice a little less exhausted already just from the drink. He sat down to rest his paws as well, the exhausted ache settling a bit in his bones. "I appreciate your generosity." He knew he was lucky to happen upon a benevolent pride such as this one and luckier still to have a welcoming male. If this were the Bonelands he'd have been chased off without question.

Quaji

 

[Quaji]

Among the sea of sandy coats, Tawa stood out as blood on snow. Curious eyes watched as he approached and drank from their water. Whispers were shared among the lionesses resulting in sly grins and soft chuckles. A single puff from Nkosinhle was enough to silence the lionesses, their conversations pivoting to one of the day, hunts, cubs, and the like. The white lion strode to stand beside Tawa'shilah, eyeing him curiously before settling on the still water.

If the difference in their size and mass had not been obvious before, it was now.

"Pray, spare them no bitterness. They merely tease. Your crimson coat is quite foreign to them and they are enthralled by it." He chuckled, hearing the groan of one young lioness, embarrassed no doubt. "And a foreigner you must be. These lands are not so filled with your ilk; large and red." Nkosinhle offered a kind smile. "Ah, before you speak, I have no need of your life's story, stranger. Merely an observation. You are welcome within my pride. Rest your bones. We will feast come nightfall."  

[SilverLutz]

Tawa had barely registered the snickering and looks, his mind finally able to settle and relax for the first time in a very long time. Even when he'd been back in the Bonelands the state of the pride had made him on edge, his mind working to try to figure out how to fix the problems threatening them. Then, once he was in the rogue lands, he'd been fighting tooth and nail to survive for the first part of his journey as he left the slowly starving lands. Food had helped even though it had only been a hare here and there, but now he was among the safety of another pride. There was water and judging by the content look on everyone's face, there was also food. He could finally rest.

Despite the pale lion's size he was quite graceful and quiet, resulting in Tawa startling a bit when he spoke directly beside him. He looked up - up! - at the other male and gave a little huff, shaking his head to let him know he'd taken no offense. The lionesses of the Bonelands had done similar when he'd first joined even though they were more familiar with those that came from the Firekin. They'd gotten used to him eventually and he was sure these lionesses would as well.

"Thank you," he said again, softly this time. The promise of safety and of food was so enticing Tawa wondered if he should stop searching for his daughter and just stay here. Would he be welcome indefinitely? He could play the part of Ahluke here, serve as a hunter, a cub sitter, a protector if need be. He had no issue with that.

"Who are you?" he added, curiosity finally getting the better of him, slipping from his mouth as his tried brain truly relaxed, no longer a filter between his thoughts and what he said. "I've never seen someone like you before." Nor had he ever been around a lion that exuded such a fatherly sensation, as if the pale lion had known him all his life. It was impossible, of course. Tawa knew his father, knew his mother, his blood family back in the Firekin. This male was not related to him, and yet he was more comfortable around a stranger than he ever had been in his life.

Quaji

 

[Quaji]

There were so many possible replies to Tawa'shilah's query; a king, a lover, a father, but all of the titles he once held may as well be poison on his tongue now. A god was perhaps the most truthful, such shocking revelations were better left unsaid between them, even if for but a brief moment the idea was fully considered. Finally, Nkosinhle settled upon his chosen words.

"I am Nkosinhle," an introduction, subverting what he assumed was the expected answer to such a question. "Tis little surprise I appear as foreign to you as you are to mine pride. I hail from a land far, far from here, in everlasting snowfall that blankets my motherland in deep frost."

There was a noticeable hush that fell behind them as the lionesses' chatter died down to a mere whisper, listening curiously to the conversation being hand by the two lions. Their attempts at disguising their eavesdropping did not go unnoticed by Nkosinhle who merely chuckled at their interest. He had told them very little of his homeland, no more than he just shared once again, but they hoped, just as they hoped every time the story passed his lips.  

[SilverLutz]

The answer that was settled on was exactly what Tawa had wanted to know. A name, just as he'd given his own. While Nkosinhle certainly had an advantage over him in terms of being on his own turf, comfortable with his own pride, Tawa knew his past, his former prides, his story were all things at least the lionesses would be interested in learning about him. Did he want to share them? Not right now. He was too tired and he knew his welcome could wear out if he bothered the ladies or the leader too much with chatter.

As Nkosinhle described where he came from Tawa couldn't help the little huff of laughter that left him.

"Sounds opposite to where I was born," he said, but left it at that. There would be time for revealing more about themselves later. For now he was grateful for a place to rest and the promise of food. As if the thought prompted his stomach, an embarrassingly loud snarl rose from his guts and he grimaced slightly.

"I apologize," he murmured. "Food has been scarce as of late." As if they couldn't tell just by looking at him. A lion of his size - even one that had been eating hares and other small prey for a week or so - should have had much more weight on him than he currently did. He cleared his throat and tried to change the subject.

"What do you call yourselves? This pride, the land?" he asked, hoping for a familiar name to ring a bell in his mind. Perhaps they were nomads, their numbers were small enough that it would be feasible.

Quaji