“You want me to what?” The dark lion who went by the name Hakan’mawasii paused to blink at the bright-furred male who had appeared out of nowhere and begun harassing him.
“I want you to train me. You deaf?”
“I’m not deaf.” Hakan growled, halting and swinging his great head round to face the younger male. Hakan was by no means an old lion but he was not a springing, bouncing youth either. He had reached that age of maturity now where he could take most things in his stride, where nothing really surprised him. Not normally anyway… “I heard you; I just didn’t believe what I was hearing.”
“Well believe it, old man.”
Hakan snarled and went for the orange male, swinging out with one huge, crushing paw. It skimmed the air mere millimetres from the adolescent’s snout. “You don’t know me. I don’t know you. Why would I agree to train you?”
“Because I’m Firekin. You’ve heard of us, right? Biggest, meanest, strongest lions around. ‘Cept now there’s no one around to pass the tricks of the trade onto me. I figured I’d go look elsewhere.”
“I’ve heard of the Firekin.” Hakan exhaled noisily and in that breath he added; “My mother was a Firekin.”
“So that’s why you’re so big. I knew you were a fighter miles off.”
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Kid.”
“Kid? I’m not a kid.”
Hakan eyed him. “Until you can beat me in a fair fight you’ll always be a kid.”
“Does this mean you’re going to train me, then?”
“What’s in it for me?”
“You can tell everyone how you trained a mighty Firekin warrior. Wouldn’t that look good, huh? The ladies would swoon at the thought of how amazing you must be.”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who wants ladies swooning at his paws?”
Rap fell silent and his ears drooped a little. He was falling and falling fast. He needed to drag himself up out of this hole and talk the lion into doing this thing. “Listen. I need to learn how to fight. My pride has broken, or half of it anyway. Everyone’s gone. There’s no one left to help me. No one I’d be willing to let teach me, anyway.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t heard the rumours?”
“What rumours?” Hakan was getting angry now and it showed in every line on his face. “You’re starting to bore me.”
“The Firekin had a war. The pride split in half. The traitors won and they remain. The proper Firekin lost. My pride lost. We tried to hang on, tried our best to live on. Maybe we would have done. Then Finar-Si came and told everyone to go. Finar-Si is our goddess. But I don’t care about her. She wasn’t there when I needed her. She wasn’t there when the traitors killed my mother.”
The last of his words seemed to affect the large grey lion. His whole body went rigid and his breath caught sharply in his lungs. Mother. The boy had lost his mother. He thought of his own mother then. Kinja. Oh how he loved her. And how his love for her had torn him apart. Driven him to do mad and terrible things.
“So you want revenge?”
“Yes.”
“I can understand that.”
“You’ve felt it, too?”
“A long time ago.” He thought of that pridelander, thought of the cubs that he had sired through her. Thought of her broken, angry face. “Revenge is not a good path to take. Would you mother want you to take it?”
“We are Firekin. We live for the fight. It is what I am. She would understand.”
The males held eye contact for a moment, measuring one another, pondering on what would happen next. Hakan’s blue eyes were cool as ice compared to the fiery ones of Rap. But ice was sharp and deadly, just as fire was. The large male wasn’t sure what he was thinking, even considering helping the youngster. Maybe it would give him purpose. Maybe he sympathised with the male having lost his mother so young.
Maybe he had no reason at all other than he loved to fight.
“Let’s see if you have talent, then.” He lowered himself and as he pounced, words roared forth from his parted jaws; “Don’t hold back!!”
He struck Rap hard, sending him spinning backwards across the dirt. Rap rose, shakily, only to find the black lion hurtling into him again. Claws struck him across the shoulder and neck, knocked the breath from his lungs. Then, shock gone, he fought back.
There was no tactic, no plan, no wisdom in the attack. It was a tangle of limbs, a flurry of teeth and claws. Blood was spilled, wounds formed on their sleek hides. Pain filled them with adrenaline.
They parted briefly, turned to face one another and leapt again, clashing mid-air. Their snarls of rage were fuelled with desire for blood. But Hakan was always holding back, knowing he could badly wound the other, knowing he could kill him. Eventually he struck a mighty blow across Rap’s head, knocking him almost senseless.
The young lion tried to rise but, the pain too much to bear, blacked out.
When he woke Hakan was laying a few paces away, tending to the wounds that marred his body. He was purring, too and his expression seemed oddly content for someone who had been in a vicious brawl.
Rap rose shakily and sat back on his rump. One ear lifted. “You held back.”
“Of course I did.” The dark male looked up. “Or you wouldn’t have woken up.” He continued his grooming, leaving a long silence between them.
“So?” Rap queried, impatient.
“So, what?”
“Are you going to train me?”
“You weren’t very good at holding off my attacks. You fought blindly, didn’t try to evade my lunges. You have a ridiculous lack of fear even knowing what pain awaits. You need tactics. You need cunning. Are you willing to learn that?”
“I am. Anything.”
“Very well then, Kid. I’ll train you for a while. Maybe I’ll even accompany you to the desert and help out. Who knows.”
Rap, enthused, bounded to his paws but quickly regretted it. The pain returned tenfold and he sank, regretfully, back to the ground. The cold, hard ground.
/fin.
