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 Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2007 12:32 pm
He eyed the beast with a quiet stillness which seemed to eternally haunt his frame. In the distance- she must have known she’d long passed the borders, but quite rudely, she was still sniffing about like the dirty clod she was. The beast’s nostril’s flared as he shifted his claws, the hot sand sifting between them. His bad eye was directed towards the sun- and from it, he felt only heat and a troubling itch. His claws flexed again, and lowly, a small growl bubbled somewhere in his throat.
Had he been younger- Siraj would have already ripped the poor dumb thing to pieces. But now, in aged times, the old guard knew to be cautious about how he handled his body. Ripuka had said times were on shifting grounds- and his old friend now seemed distraught over her pupil’s leaving. It made him weary. He had one good eye, and it was for the king. But keeping in that way- now that took caution. He would not be rendered a blind old fool.
The hyena rose her black head and nickered in that obnoxious way they did. She spoke with an accent so he could not hear her- or he cared not to hear her. She wavered, muscular body on the sand. She saw him and he knew she knew she was there. But the audacity! To look upon him like that. It was bad enough the rogue filth had. But hyenas- that was despicable.
“Oh, wow!” A voice preened behind him, and before the old guard could react, his head lowered to the sand and he snarled in response to being interrupted. “A hyena!” It said again, and the white female came into view.
“Kaanga.” He bit, swallowing for a moment as recognization hit. This wasn’t just one of the blood- this was the king’s daughter he’d snarled at. Hazily, he sighed and lowered his head. “I apologize, Princess. I didn’t think it was you.” But- who else spoke so freely and so obnoxiously? Perhaps she was just like her brother.
But he refused to think bad things of innocent people- particularly of the crown.
“Hehe, it’s okay.” She smiled, and sat down. “I saw you in my sleep being frowny. Thought I’d say hello. Should not be so frowny.” Her voice commented. She had a voice like Dala. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that it reminded him of the times he’d been tempted away from Finar-si. For a rogue who hadn’t understood a damn thing about anything. “Didn’t remember a hyena though…dreams change.”
Siraj didn’t know what Kaanga was speaking about- but he took her word as royalty that she did. “I was just about to rid it from our sight.”
“Oh! Don’t do such a thing.” The white lioness smiled. “It’s not going to find anything here. Besides, I dreamed you hurt your leg. S’why I came, you know. I don’t dream often like that. Also- the birds falling from he sky today are red. I saw them. They fall into the sand and then they grow into plants.”
Siraj hesitated, and shifted his jaw. What to think of this royal family! The heir a rebel and their princess a mad-woman. But her voice was soft, and her words confusing to his old mind. He relented and slackened his jaw, deciding only to pout. “Not proper to let hyenas wander. Shouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe she’s tracking someone.” Kaanga mused. “Silly old man, guarding rock.” She leaned against him, and he groaned. “Should guard people, not rocks. I’d like to go for a walk, come with me.”
The old beast hesitantly narrowed his red eye, and sniffed. Escorting her wasn’t a problem- but he had the distinct feeling she was giving him a task just to keep him busy. What was he, a skeleton already?
She seemed to anticipate the hesitation, and Kaanga lightly patted him with her paw. “S’not good to chase after hyenas. I tell Uzulu to look later. You should walk with me. I think time is good for walking. I have a story I’d like to tell.”
Siraj grunted and shifted his eyes. “I don’t like stories, with all respect, Kaanga.”
“You’ll like this one.” She started. “It starts with a bird…”
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Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2007 1:02 pm
Her voice started, and Siraj tried to pay attention, although he had no interest in this story of hers.
“The story starts with a bird, but it’s actually about a man. Doesn’t matter which is which, you know. The bird was a young bird, and it’s wings were bright red. It couldn’t fly yet, and it’s parents told it repeatidly it was not allowed to try to fly. ‘Wait for your siblings first!’ They said, in bird. Bird is a funny language, because it’s always a song. So they sang it to him, and the father got the chorus. ‘Don’t fly yet! Just wait!’
But, the bird wasn’t ready to stay. It wanted to leave it’s siblings and fly away. ‘Birds were meant for flying’, he sang. ‘Come spring I will never see my siblings again, but I will always have the sky.’
You might think the bird couldn’t fly because he was too young- but the thing about this story, is that the bird did fly. It could fly. ‘I am a bird!’ It sang. ‘I can fly, and I do not need my siblings to do it!’ And off he went, to see what he could find. Everything was new to him. The grass, the trees, the desert- he flew and flew and flew, and did not stop to eat. Finally, he was quite tired, and he settled down to roost in a jungle.
The little bird looked down below him, and noticed an old blind lion sitting in the brush. The little bird was too tired to sing- but he called out anyways.
‘Old king!’ The bird said. ‘You too rest here! Have you seen the jungles and the deserts and the land before us? I have seen it all now! Surely, you know where I am to go now.’ Said the bird.
The old lion rose his head and replied: ‘I am an old beast and I have never seen. I don’t know what the jungles look like, or the grass, or the trees. I do not know what you look like, small bird, nor the face of my own kin. So I wait here to die.’
‘You wait to see death?’ The bird sang, finding it’s voice back.
‘Yes. For if I see it, surely I will know all the things I never saw in life. But I have not seen death- and I know not what it looks like.’ The lion frowned. ‘Only that it will find me, if I wait long enough.’
The bird was curious, because most young things are. ‘I will wait with you then, old king! And I shall tell you what I see when it comes, for I am curious as well!’
For this, the old lion was pleased- and the two waited for some time. But as the hours went by, the bird grew more curious- and began to worry if it would come at all. ‘Lion!’ It called. ‘I will go and look for death, and find him and bring him to you. For surely, he is lost!’
The old lion frowned. ‘Go then, friend. But I fear if it comes, I will not know him without you.’
The bird was off! And he flew and flew. He flew passed the jungles, and the deserts and the sea. He knew it all by now- but he did not meet death at any corner. Finally, he returned to the lion, who had fallen asleep.
‘Friend! I have returned, but I have seen not death! It surely is lost by now!’ Said the bird. The lion did not reply- and curiously, it investigated his sleeping friend. To his horror- he found that death had indeed come! It came while he was gone, and now, a terrible guilt came upon him.
‘I did not see death coming! How then will I know when it comes?’ The bird worried. And from that day, the bird followed all creatures who sought death- and he waited for death to come, but it never did. That bird became so famous for waiting, that he got a name: Vulture.”
Kaanga, now walking among rocks, concluded it with a nod. “There, you see. It is a story about a man, and a bird.”
The old lion frowned, a tad confused over what the princess meant. “A…man? There wasn’t a man in the story.” He hesitated. Had he dozed off while they were walking?
The princess smiled, and shifted her tail. “You have to hear it again then! You’ve missed it. But it’s about a man, it is. I know it is. Hrm…maybe that was the wrong story…”
Siraj frowned. “Kaanga, I am sure these stories have merit, but I’m not sure-“
“Oh, they do.” She commented. “Just wait. It will mean something. I’ve seen vultures here recently. Bad sign, that…so you see, it’s a good story.” She reflected, and slowly started to walk aside. Cautiously, Siraj looked around.
Was she clever, or really mad? He couldn’t tell. “Do you mean to spread bad omens?” He questioned, somewhat tersely.
“No bad omens. Only stories. Listen, I tell you one again.” She smiled. “Sometime. I shall look on cubs now, I think.”
And with that- Siraj was left standing quietly in the dust.
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