Early morning was still clinging to the ground in wafts of mist as Tingay trotted through the brush, headed for a nearby stream for a quick drink. He'd been up most of the night, contemplating the world, and he needed a break. Though there was little light to be had yet, his vision was full of streaks of color, dancing across his eyes in connection to every sound he heard. Insects chirping were tiny flashes of gold, a distant birdcall was a pale blue echo, and he found his way to the stream by following the purple dots that signalled rippling currents.He didn't know why water was purple when it really was clear, or brown, or why birds were blue or sometimes orange, when they so often were, in truth, a different color. He had seen sound much of his life, and the meaning of it was a thought constantly on his mind. Maybe he'd have an answer for it someday, who knew.
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Someone else was moving to the water to quench their morning thirst. The green and black lioness moved through the brush without a care. So far, life away from her pride had been great. The outside world had so much to offer and so much to see. So what if she was by herself, it felt good that way, she didn’t need anyone for company, and the strangers she’d met so far had certainly been more than enough company for her on the journey so far.
Her blue eyes lazily scanned the stream, if there was anything around, she did not notice, still in her early morning slum. She bent her neck towards the pale water and lowered her mouth to drink. Even the water tasted better when you were free.
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Feeling his way in the dimness, Tingay paused as the subtle coloring of the purple water changed. There was a lighter tone in there, one he associated with the water moving in an unusual way, as if being touched by a living creature. It was a tiny noise, and he wouldn't have noticed it amongst the den of nightsounds, except that it was also visible to him. He watched warily, unsure if he should continue.
Finally he decided to inch forward and check it out. He was awfully thirsty, afterall. He crept forward, straining to actually see anything near the stream. But it was his smell that offered the answer; a lioness was there, drinking. That could be difficult if she was unfriendly, though he personally had no dislike of felines. He walked forward slowly, purposefully making more noise to catch her attention, so he could gauge her reaction.
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The water was cool, refreshing to her tongue, it trickled down her throat, awakening her to the day. Omi lapped more, greedily; there was no one around, no one to share the tasty water with but her. Her mouth formed a small smile as she drank her water. She was finally in a good place in her life, after having bad experiences throughout her childhood, and she was certainly better for it, she’d never felt better.
Omi was quite fine enjoying the morning by herself, however, a sound alerted her to something nearby. She stopped drinking immediately and raised her head. Her eyes flicked to where the sound had come from and hoped the stranger was not aggressive. She hadn’t met any dangerous individuals yet, and she certainly wasn’t going to start now. Her eyes finally came to lay upon a figure that was not familiar. It had fur like a lion, but the body shape and size were all wrong. Omi had never seen anything like this before.
“What are you?” She called out to the other, not caring to introduce herself, too interested in finding out what it was.
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Tingay was relieved to see she wasn't upset to see him; with some lions, they would kill or chase you off on sight, so it paid to be careful. They could really give a beating too if you got too close, what with their superior size. Her question surprised him, though. "What am I?" he repeated, measuring the words for their sense of balance and feel. Language was all about sensations and aesthetics, to him. "I am Tingay mi Tompa, is what I am, am what."
Creeping down to the edge of the water without taking his eyes off her, he lowered his head to gulp hasty mouthfuls, then backed off again. If she wanted a scuffle he would run, but there was precious little water around here, so he wouldn't run on a dry belly if he could help it. "Early morning lion who seeks no trouble is what you are, are what?" he asked in return. "I am not a threat, lioness."
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Omi watched and listened as he moved and spoke. She’d definitely never seen anything like him before. He spoke in a funny pattern, one she’d never heard anyone else use before. She wanted to laugh, but her upbringing taught her otherwise and her mouth was kept shut. “Tingay mi Tompa. AreIs there more Tingay mi Tompa? I’ve never seen one before. You’re different from me, that’s for sure.” Omi indicated to him and then to her with her paw, as if the differences between the two weren’t obvious already.
She watched him gulp and retreat, and realised he must be wary of her, though he had no need she realised she had not told him otherwise. “Please, don’t worry, I’m not out to hurt you.” She nodded towards the water. “No, I’m not seeking any trouble, and I’m not a threat either.”
“My name is Ominotago, what is yours?”
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Tingay watched for a long moment to see if she was lying, but her words felt true, so he stepped down to the stream and took another long drink. Ah, cool early morning water, that was very satisfying. Urge quenched, he sat down on the bank to examine the female. Even in the dim light he could see she was green, but aside from that, all lions looked the same to him. Big cat, traveled in packs, hunted the bigger prey.
He laughed as he realized she'd misunderstood him. "There is only one Tingay, though different for sure, very. I am wild dog, lioness. Mostly we move in packs like the great cats you are, what is. Tingay is alone." His pack had driven him out, thinking him mad from plague. He'd believed them, until he hadn't died. Now he just got by. "Ominotago," he repeated with a touch of admiration. It was a nicely balanced name.
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She smiled as she watched him drink. In ways, she’d been seen as a threat her whole life, her mother was always so scared that she was going to ruin their rank in some way; she had always been on edge, similar to the dog drinking the water, though this time it felt slightly different. Omi had never thought of herself as something threatening, but clearly this dog had. She was glad he was now comfortable.
“Oh!” Realisation hitting her, she scuffed at the ground with her paw. If lions could blush, she would be bright pink right now. ‘Tingay is your name, I apologise Tingay, I did not realise…” She glanced away, embarrassed for her mistake, though her ears perked when he revealed the answer to her first question. “A wild dog? Oh I’ve heard of those, now I remember, I think I heard something about them when I was younger, I’ve laid eyes on one before, you’re my first.”
She tilted her head to the side as he spoke her name. “My mother gave it to me,” A tinge of anger lay in her voice, but also a very subtle amount of regret. “It’s supposed to mean Beautiful Voice, though I can not hold a note.”
“Do you know what your name means?” She asked.
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Grinning at her mistake, Tingay briefly imagined a lion named Lion, or a species named Tingay. What would a Tingay look like? Or was that a silly question, because if there was a Tingay, it would look like him? He perked up for a moment when she mentioned her name, suddenly hopeful, but deflated again when she mentioned her lack of singing skill. A real shame. Tingay's secret delight was music, though he was too embarrassed to sing himself.
"Tingay mi Tompa is Truth in Rain," he answered, while lazily scratching at an itch. "It was a saying of my people, the people of mine. There is truth in rain." There was color in rain for him, bright silver streaks across his eyes even when they were shut. It was one of the most beautiful sights in the world. Though it also drowned out all other sounds, leaving him half blind. "Ominotago dislikes her name? I feel anger in what you speak, you spoke."
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“Truth in Rain,” she said, repeating the meaning back to herself. It sounded so beautiful, so poetic. “Your people must have been very smart, for a saying like that. I’ve always liked the rain, it feels like I’m being cleaned, and when it stops I can start afresh.” She’d always liked standing in the rain whenever it occurred back at her pride, especially after she’d had an incident with her mother. The rain would wash all her feelings away, leaving nothing but calm.
“My name? Oh no, it’s not the name I dislike. Rather the person that gave it to me.” She wasn’t sure whether to continue with her story, it wasn’t likely that a stranger would want to know about her troubled past, if anything it would probably make them feel at odds to her, like she was strange for feeling the way she did. That was always how her mother made her feel whenever she spoke out.
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He shrugged at her comment of his people. Maybe they were smart, maybe not. They had a lot of sayings, that was true. They also had a lot of paranoias, hence his being solo now. He tried not to judge. They had to follow their idea of the truth and he wold follow his, whether it involved rain or not.
Though he wasn't the kind of creature to develop dislike of others, he felt sympathy for her bitter feelings over her name giver, and a little curiosity as well. He should talk to others more often; he tended to forget that once you got below the surface, each one carried secrets and unknown stories. Maybe the answers to his questions lay hidden inside a person, somewhere out there. "Ominotago dislikes the giver and not the name, still carries the name? What did they do to you besides name you?"
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“I can’t imagine being named anything else.” She stated, confused at the prospect of changing it. She’d always been known as Omi, even if she disliked her mother, she still could not imaging having any other title. “My name defines who I am, even if I dislike the one who gave it to me, it is still who I am.”
“What did they do?” She repeated back to him, not really expecting an answer, instead she continued. “My mother was considered a Siti, a Lady of the pride, a rank second only to the royal line. Because of this, I had a large burden to carry as her daughter, and at the end of it all, I would only be a commoner once I was to come of age. My sister, being born first, was to inherit the Siti title. I’d always been jealous of her, and wanting a chance to be a lady I had approached my mother on the subject but she brushed me off. It was from there that we grew apart. Slowly but surely our bond broke and tore until there was nothing left. Finally, when it snapped, I left without another word, and here I am today.” That was her story, in a nutshell.
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Startled by the outpouring of speech, Tingay lay down on the bank so he could give her his undivided attention. He let the words wash over him as they tumbled out, painting a history, like a window to a past he'd never experienced. He was sad to hear that this green lioness had known more troubles than her share, and all because of the chafing of difficult social rules. And now she was a lone traveler, like himself.
"This one, Tingay, I also left his home. I am afflicted with strange senses, my pack thought me sick. And now I seek understanding." He didn't feel he had to go into more depth than that; his own past was a closed story he didn't revisit often. As for the lioness, he respected that she still carried her birthname. She didn't shy away from the reminder of painful times, that was a type of strength. "And what does Ominotago plan to do now, will go where?" He couldn't get enough of saying her name, it was fun and bouncy.
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“I’m sorry you left your home too. Sometimes, people just don’t fit in. At least, that’s how I felt.” She looked towards the horizon, the sun now peaking over its edges, casting a shine on the surface of the water. She touched it with her paw and watched the new day’s light glisten as the water rippled.
She opened her mouth to answer his next question, but closed it soon again. She didn’t know. The plan had only ever been leaving home, she’d never paid much attention or given any thought to her destination, she’d just kept moving. “You know, I don’t know. That is a good question. One I cannot answer. I just keep moving forward. Maybe one day I will find my place to settle.” Or maybe she would continue to travel. She liked it that way, and for now that was all she was planning on doing.
“You do not seem sick to me,” she added. “I wish I could help you with your understanding.
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"Sick, I am not, am what is. Strange, yes. But healthy. They were mistaken." Tingay didn't think of his gift as an affliction, whatever anyone thought. He loved the colors and the feelings. And music, oh, music was glory and joy and delightful wonder.
'Fitting in' was an interesting phrase, and he tasted it for a moment, contemplating. Maybe that was the nature of group life, merging into a hole left in the pack that was in the right shape to match you, becoming one with it. "Maybe there is an Ominotago shaped place out there somewhere," he suggested. And a Tingay shaped one as well. He didn't mind the solitary life, but he didn't know if he'd ever find the truth without the company of others.
"I hope Ominotago finds her way, and I mine, find it." He stretched as he stood up, feeling the weight of the water in his belly. Drinking on an empty stomach made him feel strange; it was time to hunt. "For now, I go. There is food to be found. Travel well, Beautiful Voice." For despite what she thought of her singing, her voice had been rather pretty, a frolicking shimmer of light in many colors. Maybe she would find that out for herself one day.
