[Priv] This Little Light of Mine (Basil/Asimah)

[Rainhowl]

Basil sim Fath was not a particularly young lion, nor was he considered to be powerful. In his youth, quite possibly, or at least he liked to think he was. He had been a hot-headed young ruffian back then, eager to sink his teeth and claws into the vile, rival pride that they so often skirmished with. Back in his heyday, he had been a formidable opponent and a terror to the Qyrhyeshti, or at least that was he conveniently recalled and would certainly tell his offspring, should he have any, when he was an elder to the pride. His day to leave would have long since come and gone, had his father not been the sort to think ahead. It was his father's insistance that his son learn the art of healing that ended up saving his life. Had he not known the skills, he would have had to wander off and leave his beloved home. He'd drift into the desert and attack the Qyrhyeshti head on in a final, suicidal act, or worse, get lost and die in the desert with no blaze of glory behind him.

But that was not how life had gone for him and, instead, the dusty gray lion admired their Baj-Jer, which they had fought so valiantly to claim. It was glorious and simply being there filled him with a joyous pride. Prey was plenty, as were healing supplies, which he had journeyed with the express reason to find. He had many scars, most notably one across his right shoulder, which often stove up and ached. Some days, he walked well enough, others he limped and refused to put weight on it. It was a cocktail of leaves, which he often consumed when they were readily available and easy to contain, that made the pain bearable.

He inhaled deeply, relishing the coolness of the oasis and the freshness of the air. It was still fairly early, the sun only just beginning to peak over the dunes of the desert. He wanted to be back before midday, when it would be unbearably hot.  

[Quaji]

Aasimah bint Fareess was somewhere close to what would have been the prime of her life if it wasn't the infernal limp that kept her from joining her brothers and sisters in arms against the Qyrhyeshti in battle. If she had not been so foolish in her youth perhaps she would still have glory to be gotten and her father would still be alive to fight beside her and her mother, but alas, she had made a grave error and was now paying for it by offered her other service to the pride; her study of herbs which her curiosity with had ultimately cost the life of her father. Life was not all bad though, she had her alternate talents to offer to the pride and thus was allowed to stay and be useful tending those who were ill and injured. It was something she could take pride in at least.

With her trademark limp, she moved over the sands towards the oasis, sighing as it was taking her longer then she would have liked and she had injuries to tend to. Sadly though she used the last of one of her favorite healing ingredients, the petals from a bright yellow flower, tending to the injured from the latest skirmish.  

[Rainhowl]

He'd been hunting for a bit, though not for meat. It was a simple mission to pick a few things he knew he was running low on in his stores. He had no particular quest and, thus, was being a bit more leisurely than he probably should have. He could be needed at any moment's notice, this he knew, but one had to stop and smell the flowers once in a while, so to speak. The sights and sounds of the Baj-Jer were refreshing and he needed a change of scenery.

He padded along slowly, his pale blue eyes scanning the dense, green shrub that dotted the precious oasis, his tail swaying this way and that, in a slow fashion as he slipped deep into thought. There wasn't any one certain thing, but a medley of little ones. Which herbs were beginning to run low, which lion needed which treatments, when the next skirmish might possibly occur. Some he had answers to, others he couldn't even begin to predict, but he couldn't let worry consume him. It was the sound of an approaching lion that snagged his attention and he was quickly at alert, his ears pricked forward as he searched for the source. With the oasis firmly secured, would the Qyrhyeshti be foolish enough to try and take it? He fervently hoped not... But his worries were displaced the moment he caught sight of Aasimah bit Fareess.

He felt a brief pang of guilt for not asking whether or not she intended on going out. He could have offered to go with her, instead of leaving her to herself. As fierce as their pride was, attacks could come at any moment. He quickly, or as quickly as he could comfortably manage, changed his course to cross her own.

"Good morning~"