Kalos watched as their latest visitors ambled off into the distance. This time it had been a tiny herd of elephants, only a matriarch and two of her grown daughters, plus one precious calf. They had been nearby when a lurking croc had nearly taken the calf's life. Kalos, being who he was, had heard their cries and gone to help as he could, bringing them back here to rest and recover. The water's edge could sometimes be a treacherous place, thus why he'd made his home in an oddity of the landscape, a jutting of rocks creating a hollow space that nearly was a small valley. It wasn't far from here to the cliffs, but more rocks rising from the broken earth screened that desolate place beyond the sharp drop from sight and easy access.
"Well, off they go," he commented to his friend, who perched comfortably in his mane. "Do you suppose anyone will ever... stay?" It was an odd and unexpected thought that had slipped past his lips and to the outside world surprisingly easily. He had been relatively solitary most of his life. Oh, he welcomed people who came by, so long as they were friendly, but that wasn't really the same thing. He'd never planned on or felt the desire to join even a small pride, much less a big one like he'd heard about from his visitors.
The brightly colored raven cocked her head, her expression thoughtful. However, when she spoke, it was with a bit of asperity. "Not unless you ask them to. They consider it your home and only your home," she pointed out logically, as she was wont to do. She had been with him quite some time now, feeling drawn to this lonesome lion. She'd known back then he needed company, that he craved interaction, even if he had been blind to the need. It was part of why he was quick to welcome newcomers to his home. But it wasn't her place to direct his life, just as he had never tried to direct hers.
Doxa had a point, of course. Kalos mused on that as he turned from the dust cloud that was all that was left of the pachyderm family. No one would ever stay unless he told them he was open to it. But was he? He'd never really considered the impact such an offer might have on his life. It would mean more company than just the bird-brain... who wasn't really. She lent a great deal of intelligent thought to their conversations, and he valued her greatly for that forthright honesty and steady logic.
So rather than answer her assertion, he moved back into his little valley. It was much larger than one lion and one bird could ever need. He was near enough the lake that it didn't require a fresh water source within the valley itself, but a small burble rose from the earth and trickled along a rocky channel to disappear again into the earth. He suspected it was a sort of underground tributary from the lake, perhaps the same one that had carved the gaping gate over the cliffs that was a day's walk away, but it was only a guess.
He paused by the trickle of water, where Doxa fluttered off him to a nearby branch. Kalos stood and stared unseeingly at the moving water, until Doxa finally spoke up, startling him out of his thoughts. "How long have you lived here, Kalos?" She twisted her head in that odd way birds have, looking at him sideways now with one inquisitive eye aimed at him.
The question, however, was not a welcome one. He did not think or discuss his history, if he could help it. He tossed his head, mane rippling, and waved a paw vaguely in dismissal of her question. "I think I want fish for dinner tonight. Are you coming?" He turned abruptly and padded right down the path that led into the valley. The water was a good walk away, but easily worth traveling for a meal. He didn't glance back to see if she followed him, but the soft rustle of feathers indicated to him that she'd at least taken flight. Likely he'd find her when he arrived at the water's edge.
He took advantage of the time it took to walk there, calming himself and the sudden riot of emotions that his own question and hers had riled up. Was he lonely? Did he really want others in his sanctuary all the time? His tail lashed behind him restlessly as he prowled in the growing darkness. There would be no more peaceful nights with only the wind and the soft calls of smaller creatures to break the silence. But there would be laughter... conversation... murmured affections... the sweet cries of cubs. The big lion wasn't ready to deal with the concepts by the time the waterline came into sight, so he didn't say anything to Doxa, who he could hear clicking her beak ruminatively in a nearby scrub bush.
He wasn't a fantastic fisher by any means, but sunset was a good time to make the attempt, he'd learned over the years. Plus, the edges of the large lake had shallow water that a full size lion could easily wade through. It wasn't long before he'd caught two. He made short work of them, leaving what little he hadn't opted to eat for various scavengers to pick at. He took a long drink, muzzle buried deep in the water, before raising his dripping face to gaze up at the slender moon that was slowly brightening in the sky.
Why did he ache so, both for and about harboring people in his home for indefinite periods? Why was he so resistant to allowing others into his heart? It wasn't the sharing of territory that bothered him. It was that if they came and stayed, he'd care about them. He'd come to treasure them. He already tended to become attached to those who had to remain for extended periods of time. But to care for more than just Doxa for... who knew how long? And what if they left anyway? Could he deal with that?
He swallowed hard and turned to wade back up on the dry ground. He didn't acknowledge when the raven delicately fluttered in to settle into his mane at the base of his neck, but he silently thanked her for her quiet acceptance of his silence. She churred in her throat and groomed pieces of his mane as he walked back home. She had a knack for knowing when he was in turmoil over something, and for knowing when to push and when not to. At this moment, he was deeply grateful for the space she granted him to wrestle with this issue alone. This time, he might have to take a little longer to work out his feelings and come to a decision. For now... sleep beneath the starry sky, his lullaby the sleepy calls of birds and the soft music of the stream.
