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yakuti blinked and returned to her paws cautiously padding over to the carcass and sniffing at it then takign a small nibble.. she had never eaten any meat like this, but she had to admit it didn't taste to bad. She looked up at the cheeta, still a bit flinchy at beign around something that normally would have eaten her.. also at the mix of species that was going on latly.. "thank you." she smiled before continuing to eat "Wokovu, eat you bottumless pit." she glared ove rher sholder, still unhappy about how many bugs she had to get him a day just to keep him alive.

Wokovu stared as his mom started eating trotting over beside her "wow, all we get to eat is bugs! and sometimes frogs and mice." he nodded to himself and awkwardly took a bite being a bit more messy than he was used to, as most things he ate were small enough to eat without getting blood on his face.

[>< Sorry its short I have to go ;B but I shalt return for now they can just eat and sleep er whatever x3 adieu my lovely Arafel and whomever else is around! x.o]

Taka had already assumed that and let the two eat, amused at the perky little fox. Teule was done as well and instead was gnawing on the gazelle's leg bone, taking it over in front of his brother to play with, hoping she would start a little game of tug of war. Taka gave the fox a friednly smiel though one might mistake it for intimidation.

"Sow here are you two staying? And you, fox, what might your name be? I'm Takadamu."

"No, no. I will find the prey for you. Even I don't expect a newcomer to find a prey in this land." She offered Kinja a smile, but one could tell that it was was...well, fake. "You shall follow me, and kill the prey I want you to kill. I will be watching from the sidelines, I assure you. Now, comecome, we have much to do!"

Waka set off, heading in a western direction. They were going to miss the cliffs, and the only thing that seemed to lay before them was sand, and lots of it. One thing was for sure. They were not heading toward the Pridelands.

"Just who were your parents?" Waka asked the question, head held high as she led the way. Oh, she would have much to report if she found out this Kinja was a faker.

"Hmm..." Waka entered deep thought. After a few moments of critical thinking, she snapped out of her stupor. "Yes, I remember them...faintly. It seems like they ran away, got killed, or something, the fools. " Waka smirked, waiting for Kinja's response.

A small black dot on the horizon started to steadily grow closer, as the two lionesses trecked onward. "Halt. You see those bushes upwards a bit? There is usually a few stray antelope, or at least a hare or two within them. The sand is not as bad here, so be thankful. But I'm sure you'll find the little cover to be just as challenging." You really couldn't tell the black blips were bushes, at least from that distance, but Waka knew this land like the back of her own paw.

Leading Kinja a few more paces forward, the black dots now morphed into visions of scrawny, under-watered bushes. "Okay, now it's your turn, slick. I'll be watching. If you need help...Just ask. I'll be more than glad to give it."

Kimondo had no reply to Waka's snide remark of her 'parents' instead she opted to act as if she missed it.

Finally her worrying could stop as the prey came into view, now her worry was in full blown panic. There was nothing she could do but go along with it and hope she didn't fail miserably. As Waka let her go for it she slowly moved closer to the antelope, taking as much time as she felt was necessary to reach her prey. Whenever the antelope looked or even hinted that they were worried she would stop cold, then once assured they were calm again she would inch her way forward.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity she was close enough to them that she could launch a full blown attack when she was ready. She gathered herself much like she did when hunting in the pridelands. She just had to remind herself not to dig her claws or paws into sande. If she ran as light pawed as possible she would do fairly well.

After taking one finaly breath she lept forward and so did the antelope. The smaller creatures moved nimbly over the sand while Kimondo did her best to keeo up. Her paws, remarkably didn't dig into the sandy earth but seemed to glide over the grains of sand. Did that sparrowhawk do something a bit more than create an illusion on her? Or did she, by some strange occurance, manage to do something that the Firekin wouldn't ever dream of seeing a Pridelander do? Well either way she was overly pleased with herself when her teeth dug into the antelopes neck.

Makadari wandered the sands, walking far away from the denning site out among the dry desert. He was deep in thought; his head down, his eyes half-closed the ward off the sands swirling in the occasional breeze. The strange lioness was not right. Something was wrong about her... but the King couldn't place what. She looked like the Blood, she acted like the Blood, she knew the stories, she knew her bloodlines... but something was wrong. And yet, only one of the Firekin could know what she knew. And the red fur was a Firekin trait; she could only be one of them.

And yet.

The problem with the "fire-brand," Kinja, wasn't the only thing troubling him. A strange sense of wrongness lingered in the back of his mind. It wasn't just Kinja; it had something to do with Jua; Jua's cubs... But what? They were dead now. Nothing of them remained; nothing of them could remain. But Makadari knew something was wrong... it was only a matter of time before he figured it out.

And so he walked; both to give himself something to do, and to give himself the time to properly think...
The sun was parching him; he needed water. So, he took a turn north, heading for the oasis.

A short time later he had drunk his fill from the spring, and was resting near the water, his maned head upon his forepaws, his eyes closed. He'd almost fallen asleep when the smell of meat found its way to his nose...

The king's keen eyes opened, and he looked around for the source of the smell. Hidden under the bushes was a lump of something; half covered by sand... He rose and approached it, brushing sand away with his forepaw.

It was a half-rotted, rank carcass of a gazelle, it's flesh torn open by claws and teeth, clearly the work of a lion. But who...? All the Blood lions brought back their kills to the den for everyone else. Who was the traitor?

Kitwana. Of course. It was just like him to go find his own food. Makadari cursed under his breath, a short snarl. He turned back towards the dens, intent on finding Kitwana. That's what he must have been doing after the King sent him in search of Jua; that's why he had taken so long. He'd been helping himself to the Blood's prey, the greedy, ungrateful little whelp. The Blood had taken care of him, given him what he needed to survive... Makadari snorted, his angry, murdurous thoughts finally becoming vocal. I'll find him. I'll kill him. I'll rip his hide to shreds; teach the damned cub a lesson he will never forget.

Hidden amongst the lush grasses, Kitwana froze as he heard the king approach, headed for the oasis. He had not yet properly hid his secret, and Makadari was fast approaching it. If it were found- but no, too late, the huge lion was unearthing it as the slave lay hidden, breath caught in the hollow cage of his ribs, lungs screaming for air against his will. In the silence enveloping the hiding adolescent, his heartbeat seemed loud enough to alert the adult to his whereabouts, his very presence a looming threat, like the shadow of death, or the grim spectre of the hooded executioner waiting for the condemned to reach the scaffold.
And then came Makadari's threat. Kitwana's well of luck had run dry, and if he stayed in what had been his home longer than he could remember he would be killed. All his dreams of freedom were never closer, yet never seemed so far away. As the monstrous king of the Blood turned and skulked away, the slave yet lay still, breath halted, ears pinned. Out of sight, Makadari was out of sight. Time to flee. Time to run for his life.

Raising himself to his full height, the previous strain on his limbs seemed to disappear, as necessity is more food than any gazelle could give. Taking a parting glance at the oasis, the far den, and the place in general, the scrawny lion took to his heels, headed for the Pridelands border. If nothing else, he could perhaps be slave for them, he had heard their king was strong enough to withstand even the force of the Blood.

Running. Running. Churning golden sand under paw, aflame with the sun's rays but never resting long enough under Kitwana's paws to burn the pads, as the youth ran with all his might, the hazy desert slipping past him like a dream as one awakes, draining to the recesses of your mind. Even in this mindless pace, a thought ocurred to this hunted beast, a thought that gnawed at his mind- Dama.
His betrayal would spell his end, his desertion may spell hers. The little rat may be worth little, but he would not spend her blood for his freedom. Perhaps her absence meant she, too, had fled? But no, the other slave was barely more than a cub, with no skills to survive. She was either dead, or would go back, like a toy on elastic, like he had always done. Old enough to fend for himself and resentful of his treatment, Kitwana had always gone back, always. But no more. He was dead, sentenced a traitors fate. And so he ran.

Running, running, churning golden sand under paw. Scrub patches passed, his usual hunting grounds passed, carcasses and half-starved herds passed. And he ran. A dried-up water hole passed, surrounded by dried grasses and reeds, and the slave reached unfamiliar territory at last, having been running without cease for hours. The dunes rose above him like waves in a squall, he was further out than Jua had been found, in conditions incapable of sustaining life. But life dwelled. He could hear the feeble movements of a dying creature in the sand, the confused cries. Perhaps his luck was turning, and he had found his evening meal? The sun was now low in the sky, an angry red sunset preparing itself to streak it's long fingers into the cloudless heavens, and pull over the shade of night. In this light the sand almost glowed yellow, and no creature could disguise itself from a hunter's eye.
Following the sounds, Kitwana climbed a high dune, reaching the peak and looking down into the valley below, a strange sight immediately greeting him. A lion lay before him, unmistakeable grey pelt glinting in the sunlight. Dama? How had the child reached this place? Nonetheless, the adolescent descended into the trough of sand rapidly, swiftly reaching the figure, which proved to meet his suspicions. A mixture of reproach and relief filled the frowning mask already worn into the lion's features as he addressed his fellow slave.
"Kid, what the hell are you doing out here? I'm surprised you're not dead yet. Well, dead or not, I'm out of here, before my death's a lot more painful, and you're coming with me. Rats stick together when a ship's sinking, and you, little rat, need to follow a bigger one. Come on!"

ooc| Sorry about the length, people! sweatdrop

((Wow guys that was awesome! Now I hope I can measure up with an equally good post! ^_^))

The sweltering heat around her made everything seem like a mirage now. Wavy lines of the heat rising from the sand, combined with the sweat and dirt and tears that stung her eyes, Dama found it very hard to believe that what was coming closer could actually be her fellow slave, Kitwana. Even when his voice sounded, she didn't believe it was him. However, it was what the older lion said, that brought her out of her overheated stupor.

Opening her maw ever so carefully, dry and cracked skin tearing easily at the small effort, she tried to answer him. But moisture had long since left her throat a parched, unbearable mess. All she could manage was a hoarse whisper, and barely audible at that.

"You....found me....How did you...?" It mattered not how he found her, or why. Just that he did. Questions could wait, her mind was a jumble anyhow. Thoughts weren't processed right, except for one. Follow him. She struggled to her paws, panting heavily at the exertion, but with the anxiety that resounded in her mind from Kitwana's voice, and the urgency to find food, water, and shelter, her body knew better than to not respond. Knees knocked together unsteadily once, twice....three, then stablized as Dama dug deep within herself, to the reserves that kept her ribs from completely showing. There she found the strength, and the will to continue, to follow her fellow slave, her....brother, of sorts. Indeed they were in this together, each just as concerned about the other, although she'd probably be the only one to admit it. They were as close to siblings as they could possibly be, especially in a time like this.

Slowly nodding her head, the little grey lioness padded to Kitwana's side, leaning her head against his flank for only a moment before whispering as best she could. "I'll follow you. Let us be off before our fate catches up with us...."

((Not as long, but hopefully its measures up x.x))