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A rather tired yawn escaped from Bakunja maw as his aged form hunkered with the shadows, sprawling upon the rock face as a paw tap-tap-tapped against its surface. Silently the cogs of his mind were turning, meticulously thinking, as his eyes narrowed towards the lands- his very homeland, which had been plagued by lies and greed. Those of whom had once spoken for the spirits were now speaking for themselves, watching out for their hide and assuring themselves that, through blood, their power would remain invested within themselves and no one else and those who followed their every word without question were dying in vain. How could the spirits, let alone those of the living, accept such a horrific deed? His quiet reflection of the ungodly turn of events that had brought him here, to this very moment, cased the aged male to muster up a distasteful scowl. Those fools, he thought as his tail flicked behind him with a mild irritation, they were like lambs being lead to the slaughter willingly. But it seemed that his kindling anger subsided just as quickly as it had appeared. What good was it clinging onto the past events in his life? The future laid ahead of him, it was at his paws! Prior tenseness from his shoulders loosened as the male exhaled a deep breath, nostrils flaring slightly as he withdrew his gaze away from the place of his ill memories and broken past. His new life, this chance at fate, was just beginning and the realization of so many tangling webs that were to be woven only made the male revel in the thought of possibilities while a very odd grin seemed to breach across his maw.

From out of the corner of his eye Bakunja saw something, someone it seemed, rising up onto their paws. Naturally it seemed that the males inquisitive and rather estranged personality was curious and questions much like a spiders very web were beginning to weave interest. Who were they? Why were they here? What was their story? Hmm, yes. The better he would get to know someone initially would help Bakunja himself if in a very odd, calculative way and already his paws were simply itching with an anxious need to start weaving the first of many strings into this webbed, master plan.

Slowly, Bakunja staggered to his paws and eased himself upon his haunches as he looked out towards the other- his form shadowed beneath the shade of the tree while his eerie markings that graced his pelt seemed to almost sparkle with an illusion as if a great web was connected to him.

Oh, if they only knew.

"Greetings," He called out, his voice carrying itself with a warmth alongside a very odd gruff tone. It was something odd, perhaps a bit strange even, yet somehow it seemed to fit for such a peculiar individual. "How does the day treat you, friend?"

Misery- it swelled within the once sacrificial lioness like a festering fungus. Upon her capture by the Dhati, the details of which she was still quite unsure of, Alizeti had resolved to be strong and to make the best of her situation, but as the days passed her spirit dwindled and became worn with sorrow. Though so close, home felt very far away; she had not seen her brother in days, for he was alongside the Mizimu'Tungika- where she should be.

So there she sat, head bowed and slightly hunched over away from the main body of the Dhati. Glancing up she saw a small gathering consisting of a few of the members she'd seen around fairly frequently since her arrival. Liz felt no malice toward them, in fact she felt almost nothing toward them. She accepted that they had a different way of thinking and that was alright, it just was not her way of thinking. Though, from the way things were looking who knew how long she could cling on to her beliefs while surrounded by those who would persecute her for them.

A sigh escaped from her maw as she watched the three Dhati members with dull eyes. Some of them seemed so... barbaric to Liz, having been raised in the pampered lifestyle she was. She tried not to think of herself as above them, but some of the lions of the rebellion made it difficult to ignore her natural bias.
'The rebellion... what will I do once they actually take real action?'

It seemed no sooner as his curiosity began that perhaps others of the Dhati were just as lured by their own interests. For a moment Bakunja could only smile as he saw various others, a wonderful blending of dark and light pelts, congregating before him. There was something about the spectacle that made the old male proud and his heart swelling with an greater eagerness as paws seemed almost impatiently to knead against the solid surface beneath his paws. Although each individual bore their own unique story of how they came to be it would seem, at least Bakunja believed, that their reasons for coming into this rather secretive entanglement was all but similar; their despise against the Mizimu'Tungika. Whether it be loss, confusion, curiosity or heartbreak which drove an individual to slowly string themselves towards this grand master plan it was to be something of a grand scale, something which the Mizimu would witness. This rebellion, this outcry- the mere thought of it only seemed to provoke a restless desire for the male to do whatever he could to weave such clever webs and ensnare those he could. Through his success or the success of others Bakunja would see to it that by his traps that the Dhati would gain the edge they needed and that he would seize every opportunity no matter the risk.

Tired eyes seemed to squint as the male remained shrouded within the shadows watching, learning, although it seemed even before the cogs of his mind again were free to meticulously think it seemed a rather intrigued female had wandered his way. A brow arched slightly while his lips pursed thoughtfully and all the while a grin seemed to play across his maw. "I suppose the Dhati warriors should," he commented, a ear flicking as he leveled his gaze warmly with that of the lioness, "but I believe it's equally important to get to know your accomplices. It might just be small talk but such a petty thing often can help unravel the mysteries behind the unknown. I would like to know their skills before I can lay the foundations for the webs which have yet to be wove."

A rumbling chuckle emitted from out of the seclusive male- it was a bit odd yet it seemed to carry a rather odd warmth itself. She was eager and had a singular focus; it was admirable yet each individual methods varied from creature to creature and such was true with Bakunja. Although the male was simply brimming with an overflow of curiosity he couldn't help but know that the one before him was right. What a shame it would be if he was to enter the thrill of battle with only rusty claws and a body which was out of shape? Surly such a thing would only scream disaster, even death, no doubt.

"Ah, I am a weaver of webs and traps and such a thing would be unfortunate if my claws and teeth were dull," he mused, tail curling around his body. "But humor me, if you will, and simply tell me your name, I'm sure I'll learn your story sooner or later. And if you're anxious paws desire a sparring then I'll gladly engage but for now revel in this turn of events, won't you? If only for a little."

His tone was musing, contemplative and engaged within this simple chance to slowly get to know those who had aligned themselves with the Dhati. It was, for Bakunja, a time where he could decipher each individuals skills and better formulate a plan and event which could put them to use for his gain or through their own success. The old male was strange albeit and the kindness that he showed seemed a bit off beat but it was who he was. Bakunja certainly was a bit off but his passion concerning the dismemberment of the lies within the Dhati and giving rise to the true King and Queen only molded him into an eager soul waiting to strike at the heart of his forgotten pride. Patience seemed easy to overcome alongside his eagerness to do whatever was to be done yet it seemed for once the male was letting curiosity grab him by the tail and drag him out.

The male needed to evaluate those around him in order to decipher the appropriate use of each individual. They all had a purpose, a trick of the trade, but what that was eluded Bakunja.

He wanted to know.

Quietly Kondo watched and listened to the other members of his new found group, it seemed that some where meant to be scarificed like his Kito was, perhaps if things had turned out differently, if they had heard the rumours or left the herd before her death he would not be in this vengeful state that he found himself in.

It is believed that destiny is usually thrust upon you when you least expect it, but this had been all too much for him to bear. The pulsating rage flickered and danced inside of him like an untamed beast in a cage, he knew it would escape one day soon and destroy those who had placed him here, banished him for his actions.

Had he been so wrong? Blinded by his love for Kito her death had released the warrior beast within, the creature usually only seen upon the battlefield.

Yet now, as he watched the others smile and play he wondered if he would ever feel anything but hatred and pain ever again?

Alizeti watched as a dark lioness covered in mesmerizing stripes approached to interrupt the reclusiveness she worked to retain each day of her presence among the Dhati. Ears tilted back and eyes narrowed, she found herself quite offended by the lioness' question.
'Learned? Useful? I wouldn't even be here if it were up to me.'
The golden-colored lioness exhaled before replying in an attempt to calm herself and tried to put a smile on- but without much avail. If any kind of smile had come from the attempt it would have been obviously forced and quite insincere.
"I will be of no use to you, I'm afraid. My place is not here."

Some of the ex-Sacrifices that were brought to the Dhati were overjoyed, others confused but compliant. But Alizeti's beliefs were stronger than her reason, and she would not be swayed so easily. As far as she was concerned she would be sacrificed, sooner or later, and would give strength to her family, to her brother. This was the hope she clung to as she spent her days to herself within the encampment.

The shadowed male before the dark lioness's eyes seemed reasonable enough in his response that she decided to linger a little longer instead of breezing by like she had intended. He seemed patient, and had a tolerance for dealing with the little annoyances that ultimately made a bigger picture - he was a thinker - that was for sure, and the lioness didn't think that she could sit well with the idea that someone else nearly equaled her own aptitude of thoughts. It was a scary thing - for when independent plans conceived from high thinkers intermingled with a separate group effort, things were more likely to go... awry.

She was not one to purposefully seek out individuals unless she needed a connection to accomplish something, but that was not to say that she did not believe in the benefits that came when others mingled. But her own part didn't require such pleasantries, and that suited the female.

She waited until the speaking male before her finished talking, and remarked, "Before you lay the foundations for webs? Who are you now, some senile storyteller who has somehow transcended the ranks? I doubt so, so you have no silk upon which to utilize your weaving, I'm afraid."

A humorous laugh erupted from her--one that was half truly amused, and the other half filled with certain concern for the male's claim. She was sure there was no one more prominent in their role and assistance to the Dhati, but had there been lions that shined amongst the roles of warriors and hunters, she did not know. Perhaps he was correct--that she should engage in meaningless banter which would one day transform into something more tangible and useful. No doubt she was already learning a little more, if not sharing in a little entertainment right now.

Before she could get to the web-marked lion's inquiry, the call of a rough female broke what pleasantness could have been in the air. The dark lioness turned to the red one, vaguely knowing that she was one of the most adept at her duty, but not enough to elicit an awed recognition. It was good that her work further aided the Dhati's cause, but when it all came to an end, the hunter would just be like any other without a cause, and possibly filled with a remorse over all the waste they had accumulated in this doing. All those rotting flesh and bones had to have bad voodoo; the dark lioness herself was glad that she did not subject herself to such an act against nature.

"My tongue, as you will realize, has its own set of skills that provide more use than your bird feeder tactics," she sneered at the red hunter, whose silly remark seemed just as foolish as the blaring white fur that draped around her neck.

She turned back to the male, though leaving the red hunter's vision within sight in case she desired more ridiculing, and answered loudly and purposefully so that anyone who had been somewhere near the vicinity would hear, "I am Malaika."

A sweet smile came on her face as she paused dramatically, tilting her head away from the male now, facing the others who had been milling about.

"If you're sure -- I am the own teller of my tale, and I have no reason to confide in anyone my story, but if you say you are at the heart of these webs of fate, perhaps you will know one day," she hesitated, "But that could come at a steep price."

Malaika cleared her throat and then offered just a little more, "I will tell you, however, that I am no ordinary rogue or vagrant who just happened upon the Dhati. If you have noticed, I bear the royal marks of that which we have focused ourselves upon--that which we are meant to harbor hatred for, though I assure you I share the same prejudice. I am more connected to the lands and tale than one such as yourself will perceive. This I will give you."

"Now," she continued, following in the male's interrogation and suggestion to discover the trails and paths of others--though she could easily See it as she could ask, "What is one such as yourself doing here, and why do you share a similarity to those marked with spiritual wisdom in the Mizimu? If you were raised there, I regretfully do not recognize your line or pelt."

Khagi growled something under his breath as Bakunja hailed him. He could think of a number of responses: the day treats me with boredom, and tops the whole carcass off with someone who shouldn't poke his nose into someone else's business... But that's how you met others, right? Stick your snout into another's business, and see what happened. That's how he wound up here, come to think about it...

As the dark lioness neared, Khagi snorted. "Aye, but it seems that one may talk a Mizimu to death, using the prattle and weight of his words to wear'em down faster than a cub can catch an elephant."

With that accomplished, the brown lion examined the others gathered, trying to size them up based on appearances. In all honesty, he was disappointed with what he saw. There were those in the prime of their life, some like him that were passed... He stared at the brightly colored lionesses. To him, they were too young -- shouldn't they be minding cubs or gossiping in the shade, wasting their time as those their age were apt to do?

Khagi dismissed them. With their backs to him, they could well be fit and ready to fight if the yellow spotted one didn't hunch over like that. Khagi hoped that he wouldn't have to fight next to her when the time came. He only had one lion to look out for on the field when it came to it: himself. I didn't join the Dhati to become a cub-sitter, he scowled, displeasure and scorn apparent on his features.

"Hmph. If we're lucky, the Mizimu will die of old age before this lot comes mewing to their den," he grumped, more to himself than anyone in particular.