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 Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 12:12 pm
Not too long ago, on one of her exploration days, Omoa had come across a tiny stream that held beautiful treasures: rocks smoothed by the water that shone and sparkled a million different colors in the sunlight. They would be perfect for their statues! They could eyes, jewelry, anything. Anything they wanted. So she had decided to go and find the stream again and bring Ithemba some rocks, as a surprise. As a surprise gift.
She reached the water in absolutely no time at all and smiled at her fast-paced power-run. It only took a few moments for a well-deserved drink of water before Omoa was ready to search for the absolute prettiest, most sparkly rocks she could find in the river. It took her a while, since there weren't that many in the first place, and the good ones she did find ended up being half-buried under icky, gritty sand.
Finally she found a good number of them (her favorite was a pretty one that was a beautiful sky blue), dumped them onto a big leaf, rolled it up, and carried it proudly in her tail, the limb tightly secured around the precious package.
On her way back, Omoa had the good fortune to get sidetracked off her path, and then found a place with a new kind of clay. It wasn't the same color as the one at Ithie's tree, but it was thick and moldable and it looked like it could be some good stuff. So she sat down for a moment, her leaf-wrapped rocks close beside her, and experimented with the earth for a little while. If it wasn't worth it, she wouldn't bring Ithemba back here. But if it was, this could be a potential golden fine of good clay.
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Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2009 9:04 pm
He padded along, already feeling slightly better from his meeting with Ithemba. Well - much better. He was still miffed that Mchawi had forced him to put their seer search on hold, but there wasn't much that could beat meeting a pretty little girl like Ithie. It was one of those mindless things that he didn't need to commit to, and it was things like that that made him the most at ease with life.
As he made his way toward the river he knew was nearby, he felt his pace pick up, and already he could feel a spring filtering into his step.
Then he stopped, and a frown came over his face for the second time that day. Another one? He leaned forward. Sure enough, there was another young lioness, about the same age as the one he had just met, and she was sitting under a tree, playing with clay.
He knew it was clay, and not mud, now that he had met Ithie. Of course, he couldn't be sure. This lioness probably had nothing to do with Ithemba, but regardless of whether it was mud or clay or funky-looking leaves that she was playing with, the similar scene was enough to pique his interest.
Hmm. He was beginning to get an idea. Perhaps this was his lucky day, after all.
He made his way closer.
"Good day," He greeted her. He didn't have much experience with adolescent lionesses, to be honest, and he had little idea how much might be going too far. Best to keep it clean, at least until he tested the waters.
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2009 7:54 pm
Omoa, surrounded by tall trees and piles of clay in every direction, must have looked very childlike in her current situation. Her smaller-than average size didn't help much, either.
The sudden deep voice that intruded on her peaceful, clay sculpting fun made her jump. She glanced up to see a very handsome green lion peering over at her with a friendly expression on his face. Greatly surprised, Omoa scooted backwards to climb to her feet, but stumbled, and it took her all of five minutes to recover and stand on her four legs again. Way to be graceful.
"Hello!" she replied cheerfully. It wasn't too often that she had gone so far away from Ithie, but in this case--and the reason being to surprise her best friend, anyway--it was alright. It was just rare enough to be so far away from her that it was rare to meet anyone so new, and different. She wondered what had caused him to wander out, over here and find her.
This male had a longer, fuller mane than her father, and the other males she had seen. His coat was green like hers, but with an interesting and pretty design to it. She hadn't seen it before. It put her own simple coat to shame, but she didn't mind. She liked her own design; it was unique.
Her smile was friendly, and she took a step closer to seem even more so. He had startled her, but it was fine now.
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Posted: Sun Apr 26, 2009 2:06 am
As he drew nearer, he realized what it was that had struck him as odd to begin with. She was a really small lion. From afar, it had been difficult to tell, and her features in general seemed to suggest that she was older than her size said she was. Still, when he actually reached her, he felt a small jolt of surprise at how smalls he actually was.
His greeting seemed to have a similar effect on the little lioness as it had had on Ithemba, and he wisely took a careful step backward as the green lioness leapt to her feet and stumbled. Perhaps he might have been caught in the crossfire of her flailing limbs if he had been any closer.
She was certainly a cheery one. It almost gave him joy to meet such pleasant lions, simply because happiness did indeed seem to be infectious. But not quite. He certainly felt his mood improve, though, even as she chirped her greeting to him. At least it was doing somebody some good.
"Well, I was just passing by," he began. "When I saw you under that tree. I was caught by whatever it was you were doing. There seemed to be something special about it, and I had to come and ask what exactly it was." As if he didn't already know, but he had to at least take an interest in what the lioness what doing.
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Posted: Mon Apr 27, 2009 7:02 am
Omoa laughed and shook her head, embarrassed. "Oh no, I wasn't doing anything important," she explained, trying to think of how she could say that she was playing with clay and not acting like a child. "I was just practicing with this clay. My best friend and I love to sculpt different things, and we have a good amount of clay at a particular tree we go to. But I found this spot earlier today and had to experiment a little."
She hoped that was a good enough reason to be sitting here, covered in clumpy mud, with some on her tail and back (though she didn't realize it, and probably couldn't even tell him how it got there), caking on her fur. She'd definitely need a bath soon after this.
"Have you ever made anything out of clay before?" Omoa queried. If not, then he was missing out. Even as an adult, the lioness loved to sculpt. She had shown her parents and siblings how to, although the clay and mud in their pride lands did not stay together as well...
"I'm Omoa, by the way," she added. Silly her to forget to be polite. "I don't believe I've seen you around these parts before? I've been here a while, but we might have just passed each other by. It happens." Her smile did not weaken in the least. Her cheerfulness at meeting someone new had always been a trait she had had throughout her life. It was most often helpful, really, especially to break the tension and awkwardness.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2009 1:42 am
He assumed, by best friend, she meant Ithemba. It wasn't an extreme stretch of imagination, after all. He hadn't been walking long, and he was obviously still within the same territory, and the fact that they had both been playing with clay. It didn't take much to put two and two together, and in truth the resemblance in the focus the two lionesses had shown while playing with clay were almost uncanny. So obviously, they both enjoyed it.
That was enough for him then. That was, it was enough to tell him that he had best not mention Ithemba or the fact that he had seen another young lioness doing the exact same thing earlier on. Not if his grand scheme was going to pan out, anyway. It wasn't much of a scheme, really, but it had only just struck him how delightfully ironic it was that he had met both of them on the same day. Delightful for him, of course.
Oh, he was an a*****e. But then, he knew that already, and had for a rather long time. So it was no trouble.
"I actually have not," he admitted with a nod. "That is, I've never come close to perfecting anything, but I've given it a shot or two. It's not easy - at least, it wasn't for me. I quite admire that you seem to be so familiar with the workings of clay."
Well, he actually hadn't ever made anything out of clay. It wasn't something that particularly appealed to him. The thought of getting the sort of muck all over him almost made him grimace - and he would have, if he hadn't been playing a part. Sickly oozing substance had never been a strong point for him.
"My name is Msiba," he said in response to her name. "It sure is a pleasure to meet you, Omoa. I'm actually just passing through the area, so I count myself fortunate to have met anyone quite like you in the short time I'm here."
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2009 10:34 am
Poor Omoa. Sometimes her child-like innocence got her into so much trouble without her even realizing it. But had she known that Ithie had been tricked just like she was in the process of becoming a victim, then she would have blamed herself. Even though Ithie was older and bigger than she, the green lioness had always felt rather protective around her best friend. Not because she was child-like or ignorant, oh no. She had just never had the chance to explore as much as the world as Omoa had, and then some. Ithie was...sheltered, you could say.
So Omoa acted as her guide.
"Really? Would you like to try for a moment or two? It's not hard, I promise. And I'll show you some tricks I picked up. Odd that I hadn't heard of them before; they make things so much easier," she offered, glad to share the joys of sculpting with someone else. It was really a relaxing thing, and once you got past the dirtiness of the clay and sometimes the wetness of the mud, it wasn't half bad. "Oh, I'm not that good at it," she blushed, shaking her head. "You should see my friend, Ithemba do it. She's been doing it much longer than I. Actually, she's the one who taught me the basics in the first place. It's how we met." Omoa beamed, remembering the story fondly in her head.
She blushed again, darker, at the compliments pouring out. The small lioness had rarely gotten so many, not even from her family. And this strange male had just popped up out of nowhere, praising her graces. And he didn't even know her.
She was too naive to know any better, so she soaked them up with a shy smile.
"Thank you, but I'm sure there are others better than me here, you just happened to find me first. Where are you headed, if I may ask?" If it was anywhere near her pride, the Simbafutaji, she would recommend for him to go visit. If he didn't have a pride. After all, even while she was out visiting her friend, she could "recruit" more members and make her father happy.
Plus, it was a good pride and home anyway. Omoa missed it.
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Posted: Wed Apr 29, 2009 1:56 am
Oh dear, now he had really gone and done it. The last thing he wanted was to mess around with clay. He wouldn't have minded it so much if he hadn't seen what it could do. Both Omoa and Ithemba had clay everywhere - in places he had been sure the clay would never have been able to get to, even - and it didn't look easy to clean out. Not in the least.
It was almost enough to make him quit right then and there. He'd already got one of them, he didn't need to get them both and show the world just how joyfully ironic fate could be sometimes. Except he didn't believe in fate, and he did need to show the world. And if not the world, then just to prove to himself at least that he could wander into murky territory and still make it out without so much as a scratch.
"I would be honored to learn something from you," he said with a nod, pushing his hesitation back. It wouldn't be smart to let her see that he was having trouble making up his mind. "Besides, I'd bet that you were just being modest about not being good at it. That's not going to work with me - I know talent when I spot it." He grinned and gave her a wink, friendly and reassuring, but nothing more than that. He knew how to play his cards right.
Chuckling, he shook his head gently. "Well, regardless. Even if there were others better than you around here, the fact that I found you first makes you better than them. You know what I've found, actually? Fate tends to have a hand in everything, and it just so happens that when it comes to me, fate likes to bring me to the best creatures. So I trust that's what it's done this time around as well. Don't you worry, Omoa. If I found you first, that just means you've got something really special going on for you."
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Posted: Wed Apr 29, 2009 9:06 pm
The more and more he talked, the more and more Omoa couldn't help herself but to be entranced by his voice and facial expressions. It was rather silly and naive of her to do so, but then again, that's what Omoa was. Silly and naive, most of the time that is. And it seemed that this Msiba knew exactly what to say and how to say it to make shivers and goosebumps go up her spine.
Why weren't all males like this?
"Great! Then you can take a place anywhere you'd like, and I'll show you a few things. It's really not that hard once you get going, promise," she repeated. It wasn't. It was fun and a good way to pass time if you didn't mind getting dirty and playing with something so silly as mud and clay.
She blushed again. "Well, thank you for finding me, then," she stammered, not knowing what else to say. It wasn't often that Omoa found herself tongue-tied or lacking in words. It was a first.
It was thoughtful of him--and intelligent, too--to bring up something like fate. She didn't know if it was truly fate or luck that brought him her way, but she was leaning towards both of them right now, actually.
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Posted: Thu Apr 30, 2009 9:05 am
"Well, you're the expert," he said as he made his way toward the tree and sat down near the clay. How delightful... "I'll just have to take your word for it, won't I? Although I'm sure you're right. It's been a while since I've touched clay, after all, so I know I'm out of practice."
Not that he had ever been in practice in the first place. But nobody needed to know that.
He looked up from where he had been experimenting with the clay carefully with his paws, trying to accurately gauge how well he might do with it. And, to be honest, whether or not it would be worth the trouble. He still had the chance to up and leave if it went downhill too quickly once he touched the clay. Much to his surprise, what he had previously thought was simply muck was less unpleasant to the touch than he had thought. Taking another squish at the clay, he made up his mind that perhaps he might just stick it through this one as well.
The result would only be twice as fun - that was, if he kept playing his cards right. He had little doubt that he would, but he had to leave himself an area of uncertainty.
He turned his gaze toward Omoa and smiled. "Maybe I should be thanking you for being found. You had a lot to do with it too - I never would have seen you if you hadn't been doing something that looked quite so interesting."
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Posted: Thu Apr 30, 2009 9:26 am
Omoa laughed and shook her head, taking a seat next to him. Just so she could help him, she told herself. That was all. Her paws quickly found a good, large chunk of mud and started sifting through it, taking out paw-fuls and placing them to the side. She had already decided to make a lion statue.
"You should really see Ithemba, my friend," she repeated. "My skills are nothing compared to hers."
But she smiled, almost sadly, but mostly happy, about him thanking her for being found. It had always been one of those things for her. She had been lost and then found so quickly. It had been a gift from the Gods.
"I was lost before," she started simply, kneading the clay before her. "My mother abandoned me as a cub and I grew up in my cubhood alone. But I didn't hate her, or hate what she had done to me. Quite the opposite, in fact. If I hadn't been alone all those months, I would never have gotten to know myself so well.
"My adoptive father, Jethro, found me when I was still a cub. By that time I had become good friends with Ithie, but my new family lived by the sea. The Bahari'mtoto tribe, if you've heard of them." She paused to glance at him for a sign of recognition but continued on anyway. "I met my new mother there, a beautiful lioness with a spotted coat. She and father are very much in love. But we couldn't stay in the pride, for whatever reason, so we met up with Mom's sister and family and started our own pride. The Simbafutaji. I left them not too long ago to come back and visit Ithie. I missed her so much and had so many stories to tell her."
She sighed, slowly shaping the base of the lion and making him (or her) sitting, paws flat on the ground. Omoa built her way up the torso, shaping the limbs roughly for now. She'd go back and fix them later. Now it was time to work on the head, and she grabbed up one of the clumps of clay she had set aside earlier to work on. She laughed, hoping to ease whatever tension might have occurred because of her sad story.
She didn't see anything sad about it. She loved her life, and her family was the best in the world.
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Posted: Thu Apr 30, 2009 9:54 pm
He watched as she sat down beside him, studying her motions as she worked with the clay. He had to at least seem like he was trying, and with his lack of experience with clay, the only way to do that was to actually watch what Omoa was doing. It was a shame, that. Eyes could be so useful sometimes. Still, he supposed it was a small price to pay. After all, he did have his epic scheme.
He found a hunk of clay and did his best to copy whatever Omoa was doing, scooping out parts of the block and setting it aside. He watched as she kneaded the clay with her paws, and attempted to do the same, turning his focus momentarily back to the clay. It wasn't so easy to keep the entire block together while he kneaded.
He glanced over as Omoa began to speak, keeping his eyes on her face as anyone who was listening intently would. And he was listening intently. For all his acting and trickery, the one thing he tended to really do for real was to listen when the girl talked. It was worth the effort, he knew, if he was able to take notes and refer back to whatever she had said later on.
"I'm sorry," he said as she finished the story, though he regarded her with interest. "You don't seem to resent any of though..." He observed, pausing. "Why not?"
Even as he said so, he realized perhaps he should go back to the clay, at least for a while. Omoa sure made it look easy. He felt a small frown wrinkle his brow as, once again, he made a grossly deformed looking curve into what he assumed would become the body of the statue.
Ew.
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Posted: Fri May 01, 2009 9:48 pm
Omoa watched as he did his own little statue, being sure to watch carefully so if he made a mistake or did something that could end up being bad later, she would be able to help him fix it now.
"Be careful," she giggled in a teasing, warning tone. "You don't want to shave off too much now, else you won't have anything left to make a statue." Her deft, small paws made easy incisions on her own clump of mud, which was slowly coming into the form of a lion, like intended.
She mulled over his question for a moment, watching him meddle with his clay and taking a moment to stop her own. Why didn't she resent it? "The thought had never occurred to me to hate anything," she replied with a frown. "I hadn't really questioned it before. But if my mother hadn't left me, then I doubt I would have met Ithie. Then I wouldn't have met my amazing family." Her paws picked up her clay again, wanting something to do while she talked.
"I hadn't learned hate yet. I was little," she laughed. "I loved my mother, and I still do. I don't know if I'll ever meet her again, though. But I'm thankful that she managed to give me a chance at a different life, and I'm lucky it turned out so well. So I'm not complaining."
Omoa stuck her tongue out rather comically in the corner of her mouth and leaned in close to start drawing in some details in her lion statue. "What about you? What's your family like?" Her question was innocent, curious, and fair. She had shared all she wanted to (and it was rare when Omoa had a secret) and was now interested in Msiba's story. After all, with a lion like him, he had to have something interesting to tell.
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Posted: Sun May 03, 2009 9:21 pm
He paused as she spoke, his paws in mid-scoop when he took a closer look at the clump of clay he was holding. Sure enough, he'd come close to digging out almost half the chunk while they had been talking. With a small smile of thanks, he pushed the clay back into place as he listened to her reply to his question.
As she spoke, he felt a small pang of envy. She didn't hate, and even with all the crap that had happened to her when she was small, it had never even occured to her that she might dwell on it and be angry.
Sometimes, he wished he could do that. He found himself wondering from time to time what life would be like without all the fury and all the hatred that seemed to be the driving force for both he and Mchawi. What would it be like not to see the world in revenge? What was peace like?
He didn't even know. The thought terrified him at times. Knowing that he had no idea what it was like to be... a normal, happy lion that could see the blue sky in the day and the stars glistening in the night and realize that life was a miracle, it was a morbid thought, to say the least. But he knew that that was his way of life. It was his way of coping and his way of living with all the bad stuff that got thrown his way, so there was nothing he could do to change it. He didn't want to change it, scary as it was. This was him.
He glanced over at her once again, wondering how he was supposed to respond. There was so much history involved with his family. History that he wasn't about to share with Omoa, open as she might have been about her past.
"It's just, uh, my sister and I," he said finally. "We travel together. Have since we left home a long time ago. Left and didn't look back." That wasn't entirely true. He knew that, one day, they would be back. Back with the pride that had started them out on his vengeful journey, and there would be hell for them to pay. "It was... complicated."
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2009 1:07 pm
"Oh, you have a sister? How nice!" Omoa grinned, wiping her paw on her leg. Now it was time to go in and carve out the details. While they had been talking, her expert paws were molding and shaping the clay before her, forming a very rough statue of a sitting lion. Now that the formation was complete, details were necessary to continue the full effect. Then she would place it in the sun to dry, and then leave it...somewhere, she supposed. It wasn't the greatest of figures she had made, so she could leave it around the area and perhaps give a passerby a smile at the sight.
"I have two little sisters and a younger brother," she expanded, cleaning her claws with a leaf. "They're really cute when they're little, but as soon as they grow up, they become more than a pawful." She giggled. "I can't wait to go back and visit home soon. I bet they'll be so big!" The small lioness paused, imagining. The litter of three would probably be giving their parents a run for their money: troublesome, sweet, and always 'innocent.' She shook her head, not wanting to remember wishful things right now. It was a time of exploration, new friends, and finding herself. Not remembering. At least, not right now.
Later, she promised herself.
Her eyes squinted and she peered in closer to her statue, one claw out and her paw curled up to better control how she moved it around. She reached up and began to carve off excess slices of clay, forming the sides, back, head, and legs of the lion she created. Once that was done, she licked a finger and rubbed it over the harsh, straight-edges of her statue to smooth them out better.
Now it was time to go in again and make more details. She was doing this all while waiting for another of his replies, but she didn't want to pressure him to answer too quickly. Which was why she mainly distracted herself with the clay. It helped: otherwise, she'd be sitting there staring at him or something.
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