Restless Wanderer (Private: Arbarano and Azdgari)

[Arbarano]

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Ni: Arbarano
Kopa: Azdgari

Red eyes scanned the horizon, the youthful fire blazing deep within them losing the battle to the sands of time, as their owner kept a look out for both predator and prey. The latter was the one he would most like to see, given the achy feeling of emptiness that brewed in the stomach of his wiry frame.

His brief search yielding no results, and with dryness itching at his throat, Ni nimbly stepped off the rock that he had been perched upon. Running his tongue over his dry lips, he quickly trotted over to the waterhole that he had been so lucky to stumble across in his travels. He had been living by the spring for nearly six moons now, and a part of his was waiting to move on and continue his adventures. As he looked at his reflection in the clear liquid, the little part of him grew.

A creamy-furred, middle-aged lion stared back at him, a few strands of a thick, brown mane hanging limply in his gaze. He had grown a lot and experienced many things during his life, but beneath the fuzz on his chin and the slight scars on his right flank, the plucky lion of his youth could still be made out. He momentarily recalled his family, and the sight of his little brother, Malka, bawling into his side, pleading with him not to go…

Ni loved his life. He loved the freedom that he had, and he loved the little excerpts that he could look back on whether good or bad. But, even he had to admit that it got a little lonely out here; he hadn’t even seen another lion for weeks now. Maybe I’ll go back one day… he pondered, before his thirst asserted itself once again, along with the memories of spending days on end in search of something, anything, to relieve his parched mouth.

Not yet, though. I may as well make the most of this place.

With that, the creamy lion bowed his head to the surface, and began lapping at it as though he hadn’t drunk in days. However, before taking his fill, something was amiss. He couldn‘t be sure what it was, but something smelt different. Over the years, he had honed his senses, particularly his hearing and smell, in an attempt to evade danger. Once his ears perked, he instinctively raised his head, and looked out into the distance.

He found the intruder easily; he was directly in front of him. There stood a young lion, probably even younger than he had been when he had left his old pride. His golden fur was matted and unkempt, even more so than his own dusty pelt, and his head was framed by the beginnings of a reddish mane…

[Azdgari]

The sun is a harsh mistress. Its rays pounded the cracked earth and offered little remorse for their sins. The only respite was afforded by a rare breeze. On it coasted a singular fly, through tangled bushes and over ditches and under the occasional arch. The scene reflected in the lonely insect’s eyes was a sad one; a dead and sunburned expanse long abandoned by those who value life. To the insect that had glided over grasslands teeming with life, skimmed cool sapphire lakes and even felt the gelid touch of snow, a desolate and discarded valley was of little interest. It was only a brief, transient segment of its seemingly endless journey.

A journey that came to an abrupt conclusion as a paw cut through the air and splattered it onto a rock, killing it instantly.

“Ugh,” Kopa groaned in disgust, wiping the bug’s remains onto the ground next to him. Flaring his nostrils, he swung his head up and scanned his surroundings disapprovingly. It’s ugly, it’s hot, and it’s barren. Great. Glad I chose to head south, he thought sarcastically. Grimacing, he trudged along. The beginnings of his would-be rose colored mane were stained a dirty sanguine and tangled themselves around his head in a jumbled mess. The rest of his coat, bedraggled and neglected, fared no better. Kopa was a lion who had lived rough and he looked it.

His dust caked nostrils perked up as the scent of water wafted past on the breeze. His throat instantly flooded with saliva in anticipation of long-needed hydration. Finally, something decides to goes my way, he panted to himself as he eagerly followed the scent to its source. As he turned the corner Kopa’s brain quickly registered two things: The waterhole, about ten feet wide, and the lion drinking from it on the opposite end.

Kopa reacted instinctively. Fangs and claws bared, he dropped into an aggressive stance and stalked towards to waterhole, growling deep in his throat. He fixed the opposing figure with a fierce snarl. Kopa had been a rogue for months. Long enough to know to never, ever let another rogue near you. “Make tracks!” he yelled hoarsely across the length of the waterhole.

[Arbarano]

As he heard the rogue’s snarled warning, Ni reflexes began their work. The sinews in his wiry legs tensed, ready to spring at the intruder, and he momentarily felt his claws leave their confines before conscious thought took over again.

“Why?” he asked, beating back the growl that had brewed in his throat and keeping his tone calm. He held the other lion’s gaze, but prevented his eyes from narrowing in hostility. “This is my land.”

A small part of him wanted to leap at this rogue; it was the same part sneering, who does he think he is!

However, his experience was more than enough to keep these thoughts well under control. Over the years, Ni had developed a habit of avoiding brawls if he could help it. As the faded wounds on his pelt could attest to, it was better to lose some of his ego and remain healthy, than to be proud and on the verge of death. That time he had been lucky; stumbling across a tolerant pride before the sun had even set after an afternoon scrap. Out here, though, he could not afford wanton aggression.

Besides, he truly didn’t want to fight this lion. He was rather small, clearly malnourished and, if the dryness of his voice was anything to go by, suffering the effects of the sun’s heat. It was not too dissimilar to a situation that he had been in himself, once. Maybe that was why he had a slight amount of pity for the adolescent across the water. Ni tried to adopt a somewhat friendly expression, even if he couldn’t bring himself to smile.

“There’s plenty of water for both of us,” he explained. “We can share, and then you can be on your way.”

[Azdgari]

For some reason Kopa didn't immediately understand, he felt the rogue's first word hit him square in the chest. Confused, his harsh demeanor weakened momentarily as he swished the word around in his head, trying to work out why it bewildered him. Because it's different, Kopa realized. No rogue has ever asked me 'why' before... Kopa found himself awkwardly in a situation where the lion's primal instincts, fight or flight, didn't apply... so what did that leave? 'Sharing'?

With a start he realized he'd let down his guard and instantly snarled threateningly. Why he'd reacted so oddly could be addressed later. The second rule a rogue learns is to live in the now, or you won't live for long at all. And the first is look out for number one. "I don't trust you," growled Kopa.

He weighed his options. While he was perfectly ready to throw down with this fossil (Kopa never backed down from a fight), he had to admit to himself the odds were stacked against him. Kopa was hungry and thirsty and tired. His opponent, on the other hand, appeared well nourished and rested. And, Kopa noted, struggling to put up some semblance of a non-hostile expression. Kopa snorted to himself, not swayed one bit by the show. Still struggling with the idea of pursuing a solution outside of his natural 'fight or flight', he cautiously chose a third option. "Drink as much as you need then clear out!" he hollered.

[Arbarano]

For a moment, Ni felt hope flicker deep within his stomach as the rogue’s features softened. Maybe this won’t be too difficult after all…

But, as the adolescent reaffirmed his aggressive stance and yelled in an equally harsh tone, the cream lion’s patience considerably shortened. Once again, his claws dug into the soft earth, and his nostrils flared, to the point where he could smell the dirt and congealed blood accumulated in the other’s matted pelt.

“Didn’t you listen?” Ni struggled to keep his tone pleasant, but the deep growl wouldn’t be held back this time. “I’m not leaving.”

Again, Ni had to throttle the desire to leap across the water, lest he do the same thing to the rouge. He pushed the thoughts away as his old mantra reasserted itself. He would give the rogue one more chance; the elder rogue may not be particularly fond of violence, but he was prepared to use his strength if necessary to deal with unreasonable intruders. Still, he hoped that the rogue would see sense, even if that was looking less likely by the moment as he looked at the hardened grimace.

Ni let his hackles descend to their normal place, and calmed his breathing before he continued.

“You may not trust me, but at least think about my offer. I don’t want to fight you.”

[Azdgari]

Kopa narrowed his eyes. So much for that. The water was practically close enough to taste... the feeling of the crystal liquid flowing down his throat...

...****

Kopa didn't like being forced to do things. He hated being forced to do things. He lived life on his own terms. But his limbs were growing more jelly-like by the second and the sun threatened to win their private struggle. The water was so close... Maybe just a quick drink... No! I refuse to be told what to do! Now panting slightly, he called across faintly, "No. I'll find my own water! With a pathetic excuse for a roar, Kopa turned tail and stumbled back the way he'd came.

That made no sense, even to Kopa. He'd come from this way and knew there was no water. But he found himself strangely uncaring. He had taken only a few steps when his panting grew louder. The ground seemed to be unsteady beneath him, shifting whenever he tried to put a foot down. His mouth hung open and he closed his eyes. The dizziness intensified. When he opened them again, the world was shaking like a cornered cub. He tried to take another step and found four slabs of stone where his legs should've been. A cold ball of dread formed in the pit of his stomach as the realized he made the very, very wrong choice. The last thing Kopa saw was the ground rushing up all too eagerly to greet him. He fell flat on his face against the hot, unforgiving earth only a hundred feet from the water hole.

[Arbarano]

Ni’s stony gaze followed the young rogue as he walked away, thankful that the situation had at least been resolved, if convolutedly. However, the look in his red eyes softened slightly as he saw the other’s bony legs appearing to weaken, wobbling more with every step. As the golden lion fell to the ground, he felt his own jaw make a valiant attempt to do the same.

Stunned, the elder lion stood there, staring at the still body. Briefly, the anger in his system clouded his judgement. Good riddance. Perhaps it would teach the rogue a lesson for being so aggressive; so stubborn; so…desperate.

The adrenaline in his veins quickly dissipated, and Ni felt the pity from before take its place. If only he could have guessed at the golden lion’s condition, then perhaps he would have been more lenient. He’d been in exactly the same situation before, after all. What he would have given for one hint of selflessness and compassion from his fellow rogues back then.

Despite the ill feelings he still harboured for the intruder, Ni couldn’t didn’t feel comfortable not doing anything to help. It was the same feeling that he had experienced many years ago, when he leapt to the defence of a little she-cub as hyenas surrounded her, and a few moons after that as he saw floodwaters steadily drifting towards a valley pride’s territory.

Shaking his head a little, Ni trotted over to the prone lion, his paws searing a little as he first made contact with the unexpectedly hot soil. If anything, though, this made him speed up. Once he reached the adolescent’s side, he could see his chest slowly rising and falling. Each breath was shallow, but at least they seemed reasonably strong. However, as he batted a forepaw against the lion‘s shoulder, there was no response; not even his whiskers twitched. Inhaling deeply, he bent his forelimbs, firmly gripped the rogue’s exposed nape, and hoisted him onto his back. He wasn’t too worried about being gentle as he returned to the spring, but he was slightly concerned about how easily he could feel the rogue’s ribs against his back.

A few body-lengths away from the rock he had previously been sprawled upon grew the only tree for as far as the eye could see. An acacia, to be exact. It wasn’t a particularly large example of one, but it would easily provide enough cover for Ni during the more sweltering afternoons. Fortunately, the plant’s shadow currently lay close to the bank of the waterhole.

Hoping that he was doing the right thing, going by what he could remember of the shaman’s advice from his old pride, he deposited the adolescent on the patch of shaded ground with his muzzle pointed towards the water. His brow furrowed pensively, as he ran a paw swiftly over the smooth surface, pushing some of the liquid over the rogue’s face.

This time, he noticed a slight spasm in the golden cheek, but nothing more. Ni felt his chest strangely tighten, as the full scale of the rogue’s dehydration finally hit him.

He racked his brains, anxiously seeking out what that old cheetah had said all those years ago. A small snippet wafted through his mind.

“If you can’t wake them up, then you‘ll need to re-hydrate them, and quickly. If you can, make sure that water is forced down their throat, but if that isn’t possible then expose their mouth to it."

Again, he again hoped that he was correct. For all of the rogue’s spite, there was something pitiable about him.

Carefully, he resumed his hold on the adolescent’s neck, and dragged him closer to the water’s edge, dropping the dusty muzzle into the water. He had to be precise, lest the adolescent’s nose end up below the surface, but he had to make sure that his tongue, which peeked between his lips, was submerged. Unable to recall anything else, Ni stepped back and took up his position on the rock once again, scanning the horizon but also occasionally stealing glances at the rogue. It was partly due to sympathy, but also due to the intruder’s earlier performance; he couldn’t quite let his guard down after that.

[Azdgari]

Scared. Running. Kopa was running. He stole terrified looks over his shoulder in between his desperate strides but it only grew closer and closer... The entire world was shaking, threatening to be torn off its hinges. He felt his fur standing on end as a shadow crept across his back like the jaws of a predator. Another glance backwards cost him; he tripped over a stone and skidded to a halt as the shadow enveloped his body. He turned around in terror only to see the massive wave tower over him... and crash down. He was being fliped head over heals with no control, he was shaken and swept like an autumn leaf in a windstorm... he felt his lungs on fire, screaming at his body for air... he drew a deep breath and felt water rush into his lungs.

Kopa's eyes shot open as he inhaled the water, choking and coughing on the life-saving liquid. With a jolt, he saw his reflection in the water hole and instinct took the reins. He leaned down so sharply he almost fell in, and began lapping at the water in a crazed rush. Kopa couldn't tell if it had been minutes or months when he finally lifted his mouth, beads of water dribbling from his chin. For the first time Kopa took note of his surroundings. He judged that he'd been out for a few hours; the sun was midways through its descent from its blue throne. His eyes came to rest on the lion perched on a rock a short distance away from him. Not just any lion, he realized, the same lion. Instead of narrowing in suspicion per usual, Kopa's eyes widened in surprise and curiosity. And a bit of wonder was sprinkled in as well, like a cub who's just experienced something new.

This lion didn't leave me to die, Kopa ruminated. [i]He didn't even stop at saving me. He watched over me... Why?[i/] Confused and tired and more than a little awkward , Kopa clumsily keeled over onto his haunches and sat for a moment, trying to conjur up something eloquent to say. The brain coming off dehydration, he realized, was not a fine tuned instrument. "Uh... thank you," he mumbled after a time.

[Arbarano]

After initially following the rogue with a cautiously sceptical gaze as he saw the lion stirring, Ni found himself suppressing a chuckle as the lion thanked him; it was sort of amusing how he had gone from stubborn pride to almost choking himself awake. However, as he looked into those blue-green eyes, he found them wide and curious instead of threatening. The lion’s mumbled thanks, however quiet it was, sounded equally sincere, and he proffered a smile to his fellow rogue.

“You’re welcome,” he said lightly, stepping off the rock and beginning to pad towards the rogue. He kept his progress slow, however. Though the lion was no longer squaring his stance, it was still best to be slightly cautious at this point, lest he provoke that old hostility. “How do you feel now?” he asked, that small but friendly smile playing across his lips again.

[Azdgari]

Kopa coughed again, decorating the ground beside him with a cocktail of water and saliva. "Like sh--." He replied bluntly. And Kopa did feel like sh--. His head was swimming like it had jumped out of his skull and gone for a dip in the waterhole. His whole body felt like it had been used as a rug by gazelles practicing stampeding techniques. But he was alive.

And it was thanks to this lion. Kopa's initial distrust had been dispelled, obviously. So where did that leave him? Kopa hadn't had many... any real relationships as a rogue, so he found himself wondering where he stood. Actually, I don't think I'll be standing for a while, he muttered to himself as a jolt of soreness played across his back. Putting on a sheepish smile, he asked, "So... come here often?