Tomorbaatar had not moved too far in the last few days, purposely choosing a less populated landscape to reduce the chances of bumping into anyone that he might not want to. There were old scents here and, if his nose was correct, a trace of water not too far away. The land seemed...sad. Lonely. As if it yearned for the tread of paws or hooves. It didn't take the steel-blue lion long to realise that the water must be running low. There didn't seem to be any large prey nearby and he'd had to spend a lot of time hunting smaller creatures among the tangled roots of trees. It was irritating and tiring work with very little reward.

He came across her again at twilight, pale and thin like a ghost and, in the shadows, watched the rise and fall of her side as she slept. Vulnerable. Weak. Dying.

The old Tomorbaatar wouldn't have much cared. He'd never truly cared for others, enjoying his life of solitude and the occasional glory that it got him back home. He had a mate - if you could even call it such a thing - but it was a thing of convenience. He did what was expected of him and left her to raise the children. They were all grown now, too, and there had not been any sign that Mchawi wished for more cubs. Perhaps she'd found some other male to provide for her. Was he jealous? No. Not really....though he wouldn't deny he did like being the male who had mated with the Kaar Oma. She was fierce and many were scared of her.

The pale lioness shifted, her eyes cracking open. They seemed to find him immediately - even though he had not moved - and he watched without expression as she found her feet and snarled at him again.

"What?" he called, "you forgot me already?"

"I remember," she replied, "why are you back again? You have a thirst for my claws?"

"Can't say that I do," he replied without amusement.

"Then leave. Me. Alone." She gave herself a small shake and edged away from him.

"Why do you stay here all alone?" he asked.

"Why do you?" she shot back.

"Delaying my return home." His reply was truthful and she seemed to believe him, for her face softened slightly.

"At least you have a home. Be thankful for it."

He laughed, then, "I wonder whether you would say that if you knew my home. Ah, they would like you well enough, but it's not a life everyone enjoys."

She eyed him skeptically. Oh she was naive. The Nergui would love her for her pelt and markings. They'd fight over her and likely she'd get a good, strong mate. But there would be little else for her there unless she had a thirst for blood. By the looks of her, she did not.

"My home was near here but it is gone now."

"Your home is gone but you are not. Curious. What keeps you here? Nostalgia? Fear? Hope?"

"What does it matter?" she replied angrily.

"It doesn't." Tomor shrugged his shoulders, "not to me."

"Then don't ask."

He watched her quietly, realising that she wasn't trying to make a run for it. Her breathing was hushed and shallow and, even in the poor light, he could see the edges of her ribs beneath the fur. She was starving and running out of reserves. Maybe she was waiting for someone. Maybe she was too afraid to go out into the unknown. Either way she was acting like a spoiled cub who wasn't able to take hold of their own destiny.

"Sometimes we're left with no choice but to trust another. Am I not right?"

She blinked at him, her face seeming sunken.

Would he say he was trustworthy? Not really. He lied and span tales and led lions and lionesses into the Nergui like a spider lures it's prey into a web and winds it up tight. He could lure her easily, he realised. She'd follow him eventually and then he need only to take her back to his homeland and deposit her there. Maybe he should do that. Maybe that way he could say he was taking his time winning her over and not...finding out about other things.

He was seriously contemplating the idea when she next spoke.

"There are worse ways to die."

"What? Than dying a slow, miserable death? That's what awaits you if you don't move on to better hunting grounds. It may already be too late. I doubt you have much strength left to hunt with." His words were cruel but honest and she seemed to realise the truth of it.

"Then I'll die," her voice cracked and she looked away.

Perhaps a life as a Nergui would be the best thing for her.

"Have a good death," he replied then, getting back to his paws and moving on. He didn't trust himself to linger any longer. He might be tempted to help her. Or take her. Or both. It was better for everyone if he just went on alone. He couldn't afford distractions right now. He had to decide and decide quickly else put himself into a very dangerous position.

He had been walking for a good fifteen minutes before he risked looking back. The shadows had grown in strength since then and seemed to be creeping up after him, skulking and silent and damning. And yet, the moonlight picked her out as clear as day. A pale ghost again, following him this time instead of running away. What did that mean? Was she going to trail him until she died? Hope that he brought down a herd beast that she could scavenge from later? Well, he wasn't that much of a hunter, either. He'd not be able to bring down anything sizable on his own unless he was extremely lucky. Most of the time he was the one doing the scavenging and he doubted that would change any time soon.

Ah, maybe she'd give up eventually. There was only so long she'd be able to follow him, anyway.