[PRP] Jurawa and Ya

[Reityn]

The blood-colored huntress stretched lazily and pushed herself standing, taking a moment to yawn widely and glance about. It was such a quiet, warm afternoon, but not...hot, necessarily, just pleasant. Which was something that didn't happen too often, but it was nice for a chance to be out and about in this nice weather. It was slightly cloudy, but the clouds weren't dark, just right. Jurawa sat again for a moment and scratched her neck idly with a hind paw, and then stood again and took to walking, in the direction of her favorite drinking spot.

Time and time again, she'd woken from a nap and wandered toward that little watering hole near the border, and she knew her way to it from any direction. She grinned to herself, figuring herself pretty damn smart for being able to remember all the different landmarks and such, and flicked her tail softly as she began to hum herself a simple song, thinking about the clouds; and whether it would possibly rain soon or not.  

[Mimsey]

The noise caused by the young female’s movements might have disturbed a well salted huntress. Decked and ornamented like a kind of African queen- or, at the very least a garage sale, Ya’s numerous trinkets chimed together softly as her shoulders pulsed beneath her skin. But while her mind was not troubled by alerting almost every animal in the savannah- her heart weighed heavy.

It was only a week now since Juno’s run in with the cobra. Even though Arcadia’s strange friend had seemingly saved her son, she had never quite let go the sense of trauma in her heart. Her son nearly died- all without even knowing she was his mother. Sure, common sense would say such a thing would be obvious- but Ya truly believed her strange little son had no idea of the scandal she and Balamb had pulled. Balamb… she supposed it was her fault really. She was the one who rejected her cub the moment he was born.

With a grunt, the stoic faced lioness rose her head, taking light of where she was. She wasn’t used to traveling without the boss; but, after Juno’s brush with death, Balamb had been reluctant to plan any jobs. She licked her lips quietly, remembering the slaughter the two had enacted upon the snake population near their home. All things had their end, she supposed.

Would he hate her, someday? Her little strange child?

A brush of air brought the scent of water a lions, and she brushed the thought aside. Nearby a lioness strolled not far from the water’s edge. If Balamb was here, perhaps they’d gander it a target- but, with a sight, she moved forward in a haze. She was a silent creature- so she did not announce her presence, but she flattened her ears in an attempt to show she was no threat.