Midday was, as a rule, the hottest, laziest part of the day. Lions were spread across the pridelands, usually sleeping, some simply lounging in a fine shade and awaiting the cooler tones of the oncoming evening. In Mzuza’s den, the children had finally quit their protests and quieted, settling in for a nap. An unusual stillness lingered in the den, a rare visitor to the family of ten, and gratefully, the copper lioness let her eyes flutter to a close in preparation of a well-deserved break.
As the mother of nine rambunctious cubs, her schedule often involved waking up at the break of dawn with the den already beginning to become clamorous with the sound of so many hungry cubs, at which point she would head out to retrieve some food in order to return to suckle them. Nine cubs demanded an amazing amount of milk that could only be produced if she took the time to eat properly, and Mzuza was determined and none of her cubs would suffer from their fate of having been born into such a large litter.
Suddenly, a half-stifled giggle broke the silence. Mzuza opened an eye. Without having to look to see who it was, she could already guess which one of the boys was still awake. Sure enough, as she angled her gaze over the nine sleeping forms, she saw Zikamil’s small body shudder with a suppressed laugh. He was always hiding something, that boy, always the possessor of some dramatic secret or other that he could and would tell no one but his brother. And in the next instant, he had taken his paw and roughly jabbed it into that very brother’s shoulder. “Hey Mu, you ‘sleep?”
From Musabari’s direction came a whine of protest. “Nuu….” He mumbled, burying his head into his paw. “M’sleepin’…”
A brief moment of silence passed between the two. Then, “Mu, ‘sleep still?” Another jab.
“Stop! ” Musabari declared, his head shooting up so he could fix his “angry glare” at his brother, which was really just a frown scrunching up his baby face.
“But you ‘awake now,” Zikamil said triumphantly. “You ‘wake, so you can’t go ‘sleep’gain.”
“Can too!” Musabari protested, shaking his head vehemently.
“Not! S’in the rules,” Zikamil said pointedly, pouting.
“What rules?” Musabari asked carefully, shooting his brother a sideways glance.
“In th’game. If’n you break the rules, you lose.”
Musabari frowned again, clearly not in the mood to lose any such game, though he didn’t seem to have the vaguest idea what kind of game was occurring. “Well… I wasn’t gonna,” he decided.
“Well, good,” the darker cub flashed his bright, toothy grin and half lifted his head, shooting a furtive glance around the den, as if to make sure everybody else was still asleep. “Y’kin keep me comp’ny, see. I don’t wanna go ‘sleep.” He added conspiratorially, inching closer to his brother. Though the cubs had yet to grow old enough to even venture outside the den, Zikamil seemed to have decided that Musabari was to be his best friend.
“But… mama says we should…” Musabari turned to watch his brother, still uneasy at the thought o go against his mother’s decree. After all, that was exactly what she had said: noon was nap time.
“Mama’s ‘sleep,” Zikamil pointed out, though little did he know, she was listening in on every word the two of them said.
“Well… we should sleep also. If Mama’s ‘sleep, means we should be too.” Musabari reasoned.
“Why?”
“Well… b’cause.” The bright cub seemed to be at a loss for words.
“Cuz nufink.” Zikamil said firmly, putting an end to Musabari’s futile debate. He had a way of making things seem so simple, at least to his brother’s mind, that Musabari always had to stop and consider it. “Well, we should do somefink, since we’re up.”
“Like what?”
“Like… Well what you fink is outside?” Zikamil gestured toward the brightness burning at the mouth of the den, that place beyond their entire world that none of them knew as anything other than that bright place outside. They were still small yet, and had never seen anything besides the four walls of their den and its inhabitants. What lay beyond was not anything either of them could comprehend.
“Iunno. Mama says i’s nice outsides. Wif grass an’ stuff.”
“Wha’sat?” Zikamil blinked.
“Grass? Iunno… Is green like Mheetu’s hair.”
“Oh.” Zikamil said, clearly unsatisfied with the description. “I fink there’s bad stuffs out theres. Like can eatchoo. Like big monsters and stuffs that take cubs ‘way and eat’em.” He gave Musabari a self-satisfied smirk.
“What? But I dun wanna get eated, Kam…”Musabari said uncertainly, edging away from the den mouth.
“No choice. They on’y eat the red ones. Like you.”
“But I dun wanna!” Musabari wailed.
“Well, y’gott-“
“Boys,” Mzuza broke in, rolling onto her stomach to regard them both firmly. “What are you doing up?” Her crimson eyes caught sight of Musabari, who seemed by now close to tears, and she shook her head. “Zikamil, what have you done?” She demanded, breaking out the Full Name as Musabari scrambled over his siblings to bury his head against her leg.
A sheepish grin broke out across Zikamil’s face as he followed his brother to his mother’s side. “Dun nufink.” He said upon reaching Mzuza.
“Lying!” Came Musabari’s muffled squeal.
“Nuh uh, jus’ said I finks there’s monsters outside.”
“But you know that sort of stuff scares your brother.” Mzuza interjected with a small frown. She wasn’t angry, but it was certainly a situation that required careful handling. Whether Zikamil had understood his actions or not, Mzuza knew he had said what he had because he had known full well that it was exactly this kind of talk that could scare his more studious brother half to death.
“Nuh uh! Doesn’t scare me.” Zikamil protested.
“But it scares Musabari, Kam, you understand?”
“Yes, mama…”
Mzuza smiled, ducking her head to nuzzle the now-dejected cub. “So will you stop doing it?”
“Yes, mama…”
“Thank you, Kam,” she said, licking the top of his nose. “Musabari?” She added, turning to the other cub. “Are you still scared?” She felt him nod into her fur. “But there aren’t really any monsters out there that eat cubs.”
“You sure?” He asked, shakily.
“Yes, I’m sure, dear,” she said, cuddling the frightened cub close. “Kam was just imagining, you see?”
Musabari nodded again and lifted his head out of her fur, glancing over at his brother.
“Sorry,” Zikamil grinned and shrugged.
“S’okay.” Musabari relented.
“Well, since we’re all still awake,” Mzuza said, looking lovingly down at the two boys. “How about I tell you two a story?”
WC: 1210
