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Somehow, he always knew it would end like this. It's as if he could see it in his dreams, as if the spirits whispered echoes of the words he would eventually utter while he gazed upon his fallen foes. This end result... it feels right, predetermined. But that strange sense of inevitability does nothing to diminish the pride swelling within his chest. Once again, the Mizimu'Tungika stand victorious. Battered, but victorious.

This victory did not come without a price. The Dhati have been beaten; the rebel pride has been slaughtered or captured, and the remainder have scattered to the four winds. But many brave warriors of the Mizimu have also fallen, and the injuries the survivors bear will take time to heal. For some, the emotional damage far outweighs the physical hurts they suffered.

All of the Mizimu'Tungika are here, in the large open area that is usually reserved for the practice battles of the Claw. Cubs stay near their parents and Minders, Heart and Claw group together. The usual aura of distrust that surrounds the two 'halves' of the pride has dissipated, melted away by the unification caused by a common foe. Even the non-lions of the pride are here, skulking around the perimeter. And huddled together in the midst of the Mizimu are the captured Dhati - but two stand apart.

Magadi'Afya, the broken 'king' of the rebels and former Second of the Mizimu'Tungika, stands near Sakata. His 'queen' Ufahami'tatuka, the former Pure, is at the other end of the small rise. But she is not standing, and her breath comes in rapid shallow gasps. Her sides heave with convulsions, her expression is pained; Ufahami is in labour, under the watchful eyes of the Vates and his guards. It was a surprise when the warriors brought her in, her once-slim form swollen with cubs. But in retrospect... Sakata should have seen the signs when she was returned by Tukutu.

After the entire pride has settled (and had their chance to gaze upon their fallen foes) the Warleader steps forward to address his people. His Queen does not speak; her attention is fixated on Ufahami.

"The so-called 'Dhati' are no more. They threw themselves against the might of the Mizimu'Tungika, against the will of the spirits, and they failed," Sakata gazes out upon the assembled lions, and growls with fierce pride. "Today, this victory is yours to celebrate. Today, we will judge the traitors that remain, and make plans to bring our pride to greater strength and success!"

Lurking on the fringes of the gathering, Unguzo'damu was cautious to avoid the eyes of the captured Dhati. Few were likely to notice him, fewer still likely to realize he was with them...but all it would take is one lone voice raised in outcry to end his return to the Mizimu. They didn't know why he was here yet--he would aid the Dhati still, if he could.

And if he couldn't, if the Mizimu kept too careful a guard?

Well, the tale of his part in this war could be...altered. He could be noticed yet. But for now, it was in his best interests not to be noticed.

Kono-epesi openly scowled at the captured Dhati that sat, huddled together within the ring of the victorious Mizimu lions. It was thanks to them that she was looked down upon by the other hunters, seen as a threat and potential betrayer to them. It was thanks to them that the Mizimu'Tungika had gone hungry, forced to scavenge like the corpse-eaters that plagued her rogue days. But now... Now it seemed that the spirits looked favorably upon them. She lifted her head high and took a slow, deep breath. Later she would need to speak with a member of the... Heart, was it? Yes. She would need to speak with a member of the Heart and inquire how to properly thank the spirits that watched over them.

For now, though... She turned her attention to the Warleader, listening. Her gaze flickered from Sakata to the imprisoned Dhati, ready to spring forth and give chase should any think to break away.

She smiled slowly, straightening up as Sakata addressed the pride. This would be a day to remember!

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Far away from the meeting of lions, Kahiga ran. Stumbled. Tripped. Fell. Climbed back onto his feet and wheezed, sparing a moment to lick his wounds. The left side of his face was in a state of constant agony, one that his paw did little when he rubbed it. In fact, it made it worse.

Kahiga snarled and slammed his paw down, tossing his head back. Ow, ow, OW! That... creature that he fought -- was it really a God as it claimed? No, no -- it was. It was and it was here. It could appear here and there and -- NO!

The lion looked over his shoulder, back at the Mizimu'Tungika lands. Good. Nothing there. Left? Right? Same. He took a deep breath and looked behind him again before continuing to run, fleeing away from the cursed land as fast as his paws could take him. He would stumble many times in his haste, stopping only to pick himself up again and look around in fear before continuing on. Many, many times...

The Mizimu lions around her erupted into victorious roars at the Warleader's words, but Yuusa didn't join them. Not because she wasn't happy that the Mizimu'Tungika had won this war, nor that she in any way disagreed with the leader of the Claw, but she just couldn't summon up the elation and righteous fury that the warriors around her seemed filled to the brim with.

She had come to see. Her clear blue eyes skimmed over the captured Dhati, looking for that one unmistakable shade of purple. She had come to find out her wayward sister's fate, and there was no use pretending anything else. Some part of her would have preferred if her dark twin had finally turned tail and run away, and some part of her would have preferred it if Skugga had died on the battlefield, without ever coming before Yuusa's eyes again.

But that was not the case.

Yuusa had heard word of the capture of her twin, and thus, she had come to see. To find out exactly what waited at the end of her sister's misguided dreams.

She knew it would have ended this way.

She was among the Warriors, grim-faced as the announcement from her father came. Where it was proclaimed that the war was over, where it was proclaimed that the Mizimu'Tungika. If one looked closely, they could see a satisfied smile; Shinda was satisfied that she had fought well, satisfied that Petra had not betrayed her nor the pride, but the smile was barely noticeable. She only gave a light smirk as the speech ended. It had been her first war, and she was pleased with herself for fighting well, for surviving, at the very least.

Her eyes flickered over the captured Dhati, settling on Ufahami for a moment with a sort of grimace; how would her cubs be dealt with, and then scanning the rest to find who she had been looking for.

Perhaps it would be better if she hadn't spotted the dark lioness, perhaps it would be better to think that her former Minder had managed to flee and run away from this all.

But no, Shinda spotted Vunjika and she held the other's gaze, looking accusing. I told you not to join the Dhati.

Vunjika had stood her ground, even as she was in the midst of the other Dhati. She too wondered what would happen to Ufahami, with her obvious predicament, and wondered how they would be dealt with. There was not much fear in that wonder. She was tired, and it had finally came to an end, the end of the Dhati. The end of her little fight.

Orange eyes caught her blue ones and Vunjika gave a little shrug, as if to signal that she knew that this would happen all along. That the Dhati warriors would have never beaten the highly trained Mizimu warriors, no matter the high and foolish hopes of Magadi. That she too, was perhaps foolish now that she was old, but she had accepted that.

In the end, Shinda was the one who looked away, who focused on her father once again.

Raruo sat, watching the goings on with his keen, red eyes. He had a relieved expression on his face, sitting with his cubs at his feet, and Kaihdin nearby. He couldn't have been happier, really, that they were safe and he had been allowed to come back to them.

He nuzzled Salata, one of two baby girls from his litter of three, nudging her affectionately as she bumped into his paws. She was getting restless, not quite old enough to understand what was going on here, wanting to go see the other cubs she spotted. She wobbled as if to pad away from him, but he put his paw gently on her rump and kept her in place.

Pride washed over him. Not just for his cubs, but for the Mizimu, for his home. They had taken damage, losing members and bearing wounds, but they had won. They had not only defended their home, but the very essence of who they were, and that meant something.

He looked around at the captured Dhati, for the lion he had dragged over. He couldn't remember if he had learned the Dhati's name. Though Raruo had been wounded in the whole thing, he had nothing to feel shame about. He had done as ordered, as the spirits would have wanted, and had protected everything that was important to him. His family. His home.

He roared with the others as the Warleader spoke, even standing. This allowed Salata the freedom she wanted, and she toddled off to explore. Raruo looked down and watched her, just waiting for her to get into the slightest bit of trouble before going to collect her. There was no harm in letting her poke around other Mizimu members today.

His mind was a blur, restless and confused as he pursed his lips silently. The spider webbed male stared outward towards the crowd of faces that stared with hallowed eyes, hatred and disgust reveling in the success of the Mizimu's triumph. Yes, perhaps the spirits had guided them to victory but then again who was to say that this was the end? Rebellion's web had been woven and its impact had lefts its mark upon the Mizimu'Tungika but whether or not it would remain over time had yet to be disclosed. Fighting for what he believed in was its own sweet reward and even with being faced with punishment, whatever it may be, was satisfactory to the point where all the old male could do was let a wry, subtle smile twist upon his maw. Inhaling a deep breath Bakunja could feel his a low thrumming purr thrum from his chest, his tail slithering behind him with a relaxed, rather nonchalant flick every so often. Was he suppose to fear death, did the Warleader expect him to cower and plead for his life?

If anything that would be the very last thing which the old male would do. He knew damn well what he had done and he had never sought to waver from his intentions. This calling, that feeling - it was something that invoked and set his very soul a-blaze with the desire to turn the tides against the Mizimu if only to bring about the wakes of change. Bakunja couldn't deny it, nor would he.

So be it if the spirits decided to transform his pelt in his next life into that of a cowardice green but here and now he would stand accountable for what he had done.

Although in the eyes of the Mizimu he was a traitor, a shameful disgrace, Bakunja would keep his dignity even as death's chilled breath caressed against his neck; its sickly, sweet whispers mocking him with a false comfort. Like a clean cut through the air of silence the Warleaders voice echoed with an audible thunder and upon hearing his name, along with those of his comrades, Bakunja simply did as he was told.

This was it, wasn't it?

Stepping forward lightly, the spider webbed male kept his front right fore paw tucked close to his body as he lumbered forward. His eyes met those of the Warleader, Sakata, not with hatred, vengeance, but with a twisted curious nature. He was attentive and kept a firm yet collected grasp on the black beast. Come what may, Bakunja reminded himself. It was comforting, his own advice which he lived by and now it would be tested.

The start of a new adventure and, perhaps closure to the past, was dawning ever closer and yet Bakunja simply broadened a warm, content smile to breach across his maw. This was to be the end, this was to be a new beginning. Which one he knew not but he embraced it all the same.

"After the Mizimu'Tungika conquered these lands, we took the survivors as part of the prize promised to us by the spirits. They lived among us as Slaves, until they passed on or earned their freedom. That is the tradition that we will revive on this day." The large lion settles upon his haunches, casting a glance across the assembled lions before he speaks directly to two of the captives.

"Mwako'damu. You and your sister were born to the Mizimu'Tungika, and lived among us for seasons. You fought at our sides, and she was blessed with the favour of the spirits. And yet, you both chose the path of betrayal." Sakata frowns, then settles his gaze upon the spider-webbed male. "Bakunja. Much of what I said to Mwako'damu applies to you as well. You know our ways, you lived among us and had the honour of seeing your cubs and mate fulfill their duty to the spirits. Instead of accepting their fate, as they did, you chose to rebel against your pride."

"You are both too untrustworthy to serve in any capacity where you might be offered the chance to escape. The value of your life is in your knowledge, and in the example you will provide. Serve with honour and humility, and you will earn your place among us once more."

The Warleader nods to the Warriors that stand at the captives' flanks, and they act in unison. They push the Dhati to the ground, holding them there while a Haruspex moves forward. With the surgical precision that they are best known for, the lioness first slashes through Mwako'damu's left eye, and then severs the key tendon in his right hind leg. While the Warriors hold him in place, she dips her dainty blood-stained paw into a shallow pool of green dye, and places a mark upon his shoulder. Bakunja enjoys a less severe punishment, perhaps because the full extent of his treachery remains unknown - the Haruspex severs the tendon on his left hind leg, and then places a mark upon his cheek.

When she is done, the partially-crippled lions are allowed to rise and return to their place among the Dhati, and Sakata offers some advice the new Slaves.

"Bakunja. This chance is not given lightly; see that you are worthy of it. Mwako`damu. Your sister paid for your second chance with her life. Do not dishonour her memory, or the spirits, by squandering it."