It had been a tiring day, to say the least, although Mzuza was sure whether “tiring” was enough to describe what she had just gone through. The past few months had been tiring. This was just draining beyond description, but as she lay stretched out on her side with nine healthy, newborn cubs mewling and fussing at her belly, a sense of overwhelming pride and satisfaction washed over her, those these were accompanied by a sadness of sorts, a loneliness that she had felt for many days now.
She didn’t have anybody to blame, and she didn’t harbor any sort of ill conceptions toward him, but when Rei had left, he had taken with him that sense of completion that she had felt, that sense of contentment for no other reason than that she had felt content. Those had been the days, but they had been doomed days too. Mzuza had realized that from the very beginning, but the end had come so suddenly, almost without warning, and it was that, she imagined, that had caused most of the heartache. She couldn’t say that she hadn’t expected it all to end so soon, but the abruptness of it had taken several days to get over.
He was something special, that Rei that she had gotten to know during his stay, and no matter who told her that no lion that could just up and leave like that could be a good lion, or how many times they told her, she refused to believe it. They didn’t know Rei like she did. She knew he was still a wanderer at heart, infused with that lust for travel that neither she nor many of her family had ever known, so who was she to judge it? She didn’t understand it in the way that another rogue might have, but she could accept it all the same.
Of course, it had complicated matters when she had realized she was pregnant. With Rei’s cubs, of course, and that had been an emotional battle in and of itself. For months, she had wondered what seeing the cubs would do to her, but now that she had seen them, she knew they would always be more a celebration of her time with Rei than anything else. Although with nine of them, it would soon become a rather weary celebration.
She suspected that it was in part thanks to karma that her brief relationship with the handsome lion had yielded so many children. She herself had been one of nine, and she understood too well the vast responsibilities that came with raising such a sizable litter. She had watched her mother do it, and then later on in life, she had watched Intombi with a similarly large litter. But she could do it. She didn’t have Rei, but she had her pride, her family, creatures that both cared and felt eager to help and, for the most part, didn’t feel the need to question the love she still harbored for the lion that had left her in this sticky situation to begin with.
What some didn’t understand, though, was that for Mzuza, her nine beautiful cubs were anything but a sticky situation. They held in them the promises of new life, new joy, new adventures. Ones that she hadn’t had since she was much younger, and though she expected she would be living vicariously through most of them, the fact that she now could was a blessing in and of itself.
But already, she was imagining the times ahead. Images of her trooping through the pridelands with nine cubs in tow, showing them the marked trails, Pride Rock, the grazing grounds… everything the light touched would be theirs to explore, to own, and no doubt some of them would do their best to venture beyond. And when that time came, she would be ready to protect them, to shelter them from the evils of the world and to teach them values that would help them, carry them through life with their heads held high.
It would be a challenge; certainly it would be, but it was one that she welcomed with open arms, one that she quite looked forward to, and that infused her with confidence. The thought that, yes, she could do this was only reaffirmed every time she looked back at the cubs, so completely dependent on her at the moment, so tiny and frail. And she would watch them grow into fine, strong lions and lionesses.
Mzuza raised her head from the ground to glance back once more at the mewling cubs, already fighting each other for milk and attention. She had cleaned them all just a short while ago, counting them one by one as if she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. Oh, those children. Her gaze passed over each of them, from the largest – the firstborn and the one to most resemble both Rei and her ancestors, with the bright, red mane and the bold yellow coat – to the youngest – another bright boy – to the one that had inherited his green hair from his uncle Alphons, and the one that had been born with Akida’s back splotch, and then over to the two girls. Only two girls in a litter of nine. A small, wondering smile crossed the lioness’ face as she wondered, briefly, what they would grow up to be like.
“Zahara, like a flower,” she breathed, her gaze fixating on the lighter of the two tiny lionesses. “And Musabari, for your great-grandparents,” she added, glancing back to the largest boy. “And you,” she turned to the one that reminded her of Illuae in greatly varied colors. “Zikamil, for my parents.” And it only felt right, felt fitting that she was doing it, because these children were so clearly from her family, resembling so much her brothers and sisters. She took a breath, breathing in their scents reveling in the feeling of community, of family that seemed closer to her now than ever. Her gaze flitted once more over the cubs. This was her family.
WC: 1014
