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The salty wind worked its fingers into his mane. Each touch was like ice, stabbing through his system, cutting in deep and adding to the bleeding of his heart. Today, the love for the water spraying onto his wave-marked paws or the foam flecks sticking to his fur was diluted, bittered by the paw he could still see vanishing down into the depths.
Over the past seasons, he had buried them all one by one, each sinking slowly into the abyss and darkening that place in Hadithi's heart until it had grown so black and hard he thought it might break. All of them... save one. He could hear her, singing on the shore, if he concentrated; soon the wind snatched the sound away so that Hadithi thought it might take her away from him as well. The lion's pale eyes, so bright in his mutely coloured face, closed against the sadness that welled inside of him.
Today they had found Mchezaji dead, and with him went his grandson's hope of restoring his family's pride.
"I'm not ready to lead," Hadithi whispered to the Ocean. It always listened to him, guided him, but today--for the first time in his memory--he could not hear its voice. "I don't know what to do! We cannot leave you; leave them! ... but if we do not, we will die here and your ways with us."
The lion shook his head, the confusion and sadness too much. Never in his life had he mourned a death--not even when the plague had taken his mother and father in the night. Never had he mourned when he had sunk his cousins and uncles and siblings... but now. It was just too much. "We're not ready to be alone."
There it was, the blasphemy. Almost as soon as they had crossed his maw he regretted them. Alone? No one was ever alone... but to his surprise, the Ocean did not protest that. Nothing did. Silently he waited from testimony of the rock or wind or bird or any of the other things he knew were about them. Opening his eyes, he looked up to the stars and begged their songs to reach his ears and yet there was... nothing.
In silence, the tears rolled from his eyes to streak blue down his body and back to the Ocean from whence it had come.
Dark Fire Angel
She'd felt a longing to return; she needed to hear their voices more than ever, however, when the small goddess had reached the shores, there was no singing to welcome her. Instead she could feel confusion from the lands, pain, insecurity, and slowly, she smiled. It was a nostalgic feeling, that what she could fee; she was needed.
There was no singing from the stars, however, she knew they were there; the sun was covering them with it's harsh rays, but she knew they were there. She merely needed to wait for night to roll along and they'd come out. Thus so, the goddess tucked her wings away from view, her long, pale, blue bangs flowing in the wind. That's when she heard his voice, for the first time; true, it'd always rung within her heart, but never had she heard it in person.
Padding along the shored, the Muhali allowed the waves to lap at her form; there were times the tide would come up so high that it nearly concealed her form entirely from view. The fact she was blue hued helped to hide her against the waters, and in turn gave the impression she was coming out from the depths of the ocean as she approached Hadithi's form. Her form was so small compared to his; barely larger than that of a cub, her bangs falling over her blue eyes as she reached him, pace by pace. She was not sure if he'd seen her, or if she knew what she was, but that didn't matter in that precise moment, "No one's ever ready; the sun is never ready to light the day after the moon and stars leave, but he must, because ... otherwise, we'd not know the light of day," it was not a protest; in fact, the words from the petite lioness carried a hint of laughter that reached her eyes as she stood a mere meter away from the male, her form still half sunk in the water.
Then her head turned away from him, facing the wind, her eyes closing as she allowed it to caress her face, long bangs flowing behind her, "It comes... it's near."
Kisoni
Though his body was surprised, for he hadn't seen the Goddess appear beside him, his heart was not. The blue that marked her body was familiar, as was the voice with which she addressed him. This voice he had heard many times before, though he had never thought to see a feline as its form. Shock wasn't enough to stave off is shame at the tears he had shed, or that his heart had faltered and questioned reality. Still, these things were in the past were they not? That Mother had appeared to him was a sign that the Ocean was not angry with them; that they were still its children, despite his lapse of confidence.
"Mother!," He addressed her and his voice cracked. She was not his mother in body, nor would she ever be, but this was the only name they knew her by or ever cared to know; no matter what they addressed her as, it was what she would be. "Mother," Hadithi tried again, remaining much more steady this time, "what comes?"
The question was not doubtful but rather hopeful. Perhaps, after so many hardships, there would be an ease; after the night there would a dawn. What she had said of that was true, and though part of him wished to continue to question himself, what reason was there for that? She had come to him, the Ocean had not forsaken him, and so there must be reason for this. ...even if he could not see it.
Dark Fire Angel
"Mother!"
The smile that had been lingering upon her maw seemed to spread further, her eyes twinkling; it'd been long since she'd been addressed as such. At least face to face anyhow, and it brought back memories that Muhali still cherished, "The future comes," and she turned to motion towards the hills beyond, "It approaches even now; it comes... there is always calm after a storm, even at sea."
She fell silent then, sitting down, the water still lapping at her feet, her tail soaked, her bangs plastered against her forehead due to the humidity and the waves that sprayed their foam at her. She blended in almost perfectly against the white foam and blue waves however; just as much as he seemed to blend against the sand. Both of them were sand and ocean, standing side by side. After a long time, she turned to face the lion once more and offered him another smile, for that was something she could offer him without thought, "You called."
It was not a question, but a statement; she'd heard him, all the way from the Pridelands. She'd left Uka's side at night without another word a while back; she hadn't told him she'd leave, nor where she as going. After all, it was her whom had tagged along with the God of Denial, not the other way around; he would not seek her out and would not worry about her. They were not bonded by anything at all... he owed her nothing and would not mind her disappearance. At least, that's what irrationality thought.
"You called," she repeated and then smiled brightly at him, "But you do not need me; the future that comes here is as bright as newly fallen snow, you know. White as foam; you can call me whenever you want, but it is your future that comes," her own was not here, however, the voices of her singing stars had always been a comfort. She'd protect those stars forever, she thought as a particularly large wave drowned her presence for bare moments.
The goddess' head appeared through the water again, her breath gasping, her head turning as she swished her long bangs out of her eyes, and she smiled up at him; it was almost like a game, surfacing after those large waves. She didn't even seem to mind the fact her pelt was drenched.
The smile that had been lingering upon her maw seemed to spread further, her eyes twinkling; it'd been long since she'd been addressed as such. At least face to face anyhow, and it brought back memories that Muhali still cherished, "The future comes," and she turned to motion towards the hills beyond, "It approaches even now; it comes... there is always calm after a storm, even at sea."
She fell silent then, sitting down, the water still lapping at her feet, her tail soaked, her bangs plastered against her forehead due to the humidity and the waves that sprayed their foam at her. She blended in almost perfectly against the white foam and blue waves however; just as much as he seemed to blend against the sand. Both of them were sand and ocean, standing side by side. After a long time, she turned to face the lion once more and offered him another smile, for that was something she could offer him without thought, "You called."
It was not a question, but a statement; she'd heard him, all the way from the Pridelands. She'd left Uka's side at night without another word a while back; she hadn't told him she'd leave, nor where she as going. After all, it was her whom had tagged along with the God of Denial, not the other way around; he would not seek her out and would not worry about her. They were not bonded by anything at all... he owed her nothing and would not mind her disappearance. At least, that's what irrationality thought.
"You called," she repeated and then smiled brightly at him, "But you do not need me; the future that comes here is as bright as newly fallen snow, you know. White as foam; you can call me whenever you want, but it is your future that comes," her own was not here, however, the voices of her singing stars had always been a comfort. She'd protect those stars forever, she thought as a particularly large wave drowned her presence for bare moments.
The goddess' head appeared through the water again, her breath gasping, her head turning as she swished her long bangs out of her eyes, and she smiled up at him; it was almost like a game, surfacing after those large waves. She didn't even seem to mind the fact her pelt was drenched.
Kisoni
Hadithi stood strong as a rock against the wave that had engulfed Mother and then given her back again. He was stronger than the petite lioness, by virtue of gender and size alone, but more so was that he had long since grown use to the pull and tug of the tide and knew how to resist its calling. He did watch, however, wondering if she would resurface. When she did, he smiled. Though she said he did not need her, he was not convinced of that; they all needed her, the Kizingo'zaa. Without her they would not exist, without her mark they would not be them. Indeed, He'd thought little of the blue patch on his forehead, or the colour of his sister.. .Or, for that matter, the most telling mark of all: the eyes the colour of hers. They had not existed in their blood line before her touch.
Without her presence, he would still be lost upon this pier, staring out into the depths that would not stare back. Now, with her touch, his faith renewed and once more he could feel the song in the water like electricity tingling through his fur and skin. It was comforting, even when he had to raise his head over the water's swell to retain his breath. The seas were joyous about them, welcoming the Mother as much as he did.
Her promise of a future was more than he had ever hoped for. Not once had Hadithi thought the answer would be so straight forward or simple as that--in truth, it had yet to prove that it even was--but there it was! Hope sprung a new, as pure and innocent as the new fallen snow. "I do need you," He replied, softly, careful of the respect one should show their Mother, "We need you. Though you may not always be here, if you had forgotten us we would be no more. To be forgotten is the only death that is not joyous... and I will admit, I had thought us forgotten."
He turned a shameful eye towards her, ears low and apologetic. "Will you forgive me for that, Mother?" He doubted she would not, but it was better to ask than to assume. Indeed, there was still that small quaking fear remaining, tingling, at the back of his mind that needed to be put to rest. "We might have left and forgotten this settlement... it has brought naught but misfortune to our family."
A wave hissed at him, its foam slapping his face no sooner than he had spoken the words. "I am sorry," he apologized to the water, "But it is the truth."
