Msimbo’Asali:
Msimbo’Asali was not mellowing in her old age at all. Despite having the liberty to lounge with royalty on Priderock whenever she had the whimsy to, she preferred to spend most of her time roaming still. At the moment she was following a natural track through the long grass of the savannah that had been worn by the feet of many animals, slowly turning an old love story she’d picked up along the coast into a song.
While she mostly collected and faithfully retold stories, songs, histories and proverbs as they came to her …you couldn’t blame her for feeling creative now and then.
Safimoto:
Safimoto danced among the grasses, her eyes closed as she hummed a tune to go with the sound of her jewelry clinking to the beat of her paws dancing across the ground. It was such a lovely day that she couldn't help but go out and enjoy it. Later that evening, her papa was going to be leading the group in a small festival of sorts, in celebration of the great moon tonight. She would have to be back by dark, as she was going to be leading in one of the dances, but for now she had time to be off on her own. To practice, if she wanted, or to find others who might be interested in joining in the festivities.
So lost she was in her dancing and humming, that she didn't notice the older lioness until she had slipped through a part in the grasses and ran into the female's side.
The young hybrid fell back with a small squeak, her blue eyes blinking in confusion, looking suddenly embarrassed at her mistake.
Msimbo’Asali:
Her firs t impulse was still to turn and snarl at the young creature that had blundered into her – perhaps teach her to mind where she walked with her claws - but Asali was very good at suppressing her instincts and old bad habits. While she did whirl around, she simply blinked and stepped back. Took a moment to take stock. She’d been preoccupied and distracted by her composing and it seemed this young… (lion-cheetah-lion-not-quite-so-hybrid, she figured out) hybrid had been likewise lost in thought it seemed.
“Are you alright?” She asked after a second, offering a small polite smile. The honey coloured female doubted any harm had been done besides a bit of embarrassment.
Safimoto:
Safi giggled a bit and rubbed the side of her head with the back of one paw, nodding her head a bit.
"Uh-huh. Sorry," she replied softly as she stood up, looking very much like a contrite cub for the accident.
"I have a bad habit of not paying attention sometimes," she added with a smile. The lioness seemed nice, or at the least polite. She was glad the older female hadn't reacted in a more negative fashion.
Msimbo’Asali:
“More interesting things going on in your head, maybe?” Asali joked, eyebrow raised but her manner not nasty. Just amused and figuring she could spend a couple of seconds making the stranger smile and be at ease after her tumble before going on her way again – unless the girl proved interesting.
“I get that way sometimes. Got too many songs and stories up there not to get lost in them sometimes.” She pointed a claw briefly at her own noggin.
Safimoto:
As soon as the words "songs and stories" left the lioness' mouth, Safi's eyes lit up brighter than the sun.
"Songs and stories? Oh, you MUST share some! My papa is the storyteller, but I love to hear them. It's nice to have a song in my head while I'm dancing," she blurted out in a rather excited manner. It was a little rushed, but that was simply because she was just anxious. Songs and stories were a large part of her family, so learning new ones was always an opportunity she couldn't pass up.
Msimbo’Asali:
She grinned. Asali couldn’t help it. Hell, if daughters of fellow storytellers wanted to bump into her everyday, they were wecome. She wouldn’t snarl at a single blooming one of them.
“What’s your father’s name? Could be I’ve heard of him…occasionally we storytellers hear of each other on the wind.” Of course she’d once been known a bit amongst the prides, back on the other side of Africa, but that was under her real name. Now under her alias and on this side, no one would ever have heard of her. Still. Better to be safe and unknown here that back there.
“And your name too, of course?”
Safimoto:
Safi bowed deeply, a smile on her face.
"My name is Safimoto, and my father is Tembezishaha, son of the storyteller Tumbuizo," she introduced herself before looking back up at the lioness.
"And you are? My father doesn't meet many other storytellers, but sometimes he speaks of whom he learned other stories from," she explained, tilting her head to one side.
Msimbo’Asali:
“Tumbuizo…that rings a bell, though I think the baboon I’m thinking off corrupted it to Tambuizo.” She pondered, sitting down and tapping her claws on her chin thoughtfully. The father’s name she didn’t recognize but no matter. A son of a line of storytellers made him interesting enough, never mind a name.
“I go by Msimbo’Asali.” Nowadays anyway. Oh it was tempting to see if her real name would be recognized by this Tembezishaha if she went to meet him or if Safimoto herself knew it despite the distance between here and where she grew up. Vanity was one of Asali’s weaknesses. But no. Msimbo’Asali was what she was called now.
“Pleasure to meet you.” She bobbed her head, returning the bow.
Safimoto:
"I don't know my grandmother, but my papa says she is the greatest storyteller he's ever known." Safi shrugged a bit as she said that. Her father had told her a lot about his younger days, of when he and his "brother and sister" had left the small troupe to go off on their own. Safi couldn't imagine leaving her family to wander on her own, but then she had felt the pull of the wanderlust, especially when they had to stay put for a while until her cousins had grown up enough to travel.
"I'm sorry to say I don't recognize your name, but that's a good thing, too. You probably have stories I've never heard before! Oh, and you may call me Safi if you'd like."
Msimbo’Asali:
“Oh I don’t expect to be recognized.” Not under this bloody name, she thought, even as she smiled. “And feel free to call me Asali, dear.
She let her tail twitch and briefly tried to recall that baboon. She thought it’d passed on a story, which she could recall perfectly, but only remembered it mentioning this girls grandmother. Author or just passing on she didn’t remember. But it was no matter. A storyteller was a storyteller - a fellow wordsmith and therefore kin.
“Do you yourself enjoy the arts, Safi?”
Safimoto:
Safi nodded with a smile and twirled around, her jewelry clinking merrily as she pranced gracefully about for a moment.
"I'm more of a dancer than a storyteller," she replied as she sat back down. Her tail curled around her paws and she got a slightly secretive look on her face.
"I sing sometimes, too, but I'm not as good as my papa, and I kinda don't like singing around others."
Msimbo’Asali:
“Well with that grace I bet you’re a fantastic dancer.” She praised, amused by the demonstration. Safi seemed like a sweet girl. Not too sickly sweet but yeah. Asali felt like she could grow to like her if they kept crossing – or bumping – paths. She was certaintly interested in meeting the girls family at least once.
“I can’t dance myself. Fight, hunt, run….but dance? Suddenly I have four left paws. I love learning the steps and everything – for what is dance but a song sung by the body? – but I can’t dance myself.”
Safimoto:
Safi looked sheepish at the praise and dipped her head gratefully.
"I'm not much of a fighter, myself. And my hunting is only so-so." She giggled at the thought of four left paws.
"My father says that sometimes. He isn't much of a dancer, either. I'm really the only one that does," the hybrid replied, still giggling.
Msimbo’Asali:
“Well, I’ll have to come meet you father sometime and see you dance.” She had no idea there was some sort of festival preformence planned for later on.
“Do you live locally or travel, Safi?” Asali enquired. She did want to meet up with Safimoto again sometime, she decided, and not ebing one to beat about the bushes she decided to just ask. “I tend to stay in this area, for I have friends in the nearby Pridelands, though I still roam further afield sometimes.”
Safimoto:
"We go from place to place, sharing our stories and learning new ones," Safi answered with a small shrug. She was used to others being surprised at the idea of an entire family troupe moving from place to place. She smiled and tilted her head happily.
"Oh, you should come by the camp tonight. The moon is going to be so big tonight and Papa and my uncle will be sharing some of their stories and I'm going to dance a bit. Maybe you can share some stories, too!"
Msimbo’Asali:
“That’s nice.” Asali didn’t even blink at the idea of a family traveling as a group or forming a troupe. To her that would be the ideal in fact. But her family members were too rooted here and none had chosen to follow her paw prints sadly.
“I’d be honoured to come to your camp. Would you like to lead the way now or shall I meet you here later…?” It seemed politer than tracking the place down by following her trail and such. Hunting other lions – a big no no.
Safimoto:
"How about I go talk to my papa about it, and I'll meet you back here when the sun starts to set?" Safi asked, standing up. She would need to make sure it was okay with her father for her TO come, but she was quite certain he wouldn't have a problem with it. Her father always enjoyed more people coming to to their festivals. He liked meeting new people as much as she did.
"Oh, and you can bring some friends and family, too, if you want."
