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After the second encounter, she'd just begun walking.. and she hadn't stopped. When she became so tired that she fell , she laid where she fell until she could pull herself to her feet and walk a little further. Her entire body hurt, her stomach never ceased complaining, but she felt that to stop was....... there weren't words to describe it closely enough, but it was a feeling akin to failure.
So it was that she found herself once more outside the borders of her pride, never knowing that she was so far out. It was early morning, barely dawn, and the nighttime chill still hung in the grey false light. Sometime a few hours before, Embamba had come to herself again. Perhaps it had been the old animal dying before her that had done it. That conversation had been an odd one, but... welcome. She'd never had the chance to talk with a gazelle before, or something that was as old as she felt, but this creature had understood her far better than anything or anyone else had in most of her lifetime.
When the female had died, Embamba had taken of her momentary friends' flesh. The nourishment still flowed through her viens, though she'd long left the remains for scavengers, and was it merely her imagination or did she feel... stronger, somehow? Now, laying beneath a gnarled grassland tree, she began to attempt and clean some of the fiflth and grime from her coat. And to think--not so long ago she would have rather died than allow herself to become so disheveled!
Isithunzi had gone to the edge of his lands more than once, ventured a little way out into the lands of the rogues, but never had he gone so far. Day after day, his heart pushed him farther, so that he often came home well after the sun had gone down if he came home at all. He never really left his home, but he traveled far before he ever came back. No one ever commented, perhaps because no one ever really noticed he was gone. His family was spread apart at best, and most of them had new families to occupy their time anyway.
He talked to a few rogues, though none of them could calm the uneasiness in his heart. He had no idea from where his father's family came. He knew that it was likely from a long way off and he would perhaps never find them, but to find someone akin to him that could answer the unspoken questions would have been enough. Sadly, he found that there were very few souls even remotely similar to his own. None of them really had the urge to know their selves, to understand their heritage, to figure out where they belonged. He supposed, in the end, that was why they were rogues - they didn't really belong anywhere at all.
The morning was still cool, though his dark pelt soaked up what little sun there was. He did, however, spot the figure of another figure beneath a tree, and being the ever-conversational soul that he was he decided that the morning called for a chat. "It would be warmer if you got out in the sun, you know," he said rather calmly, stopping a little from the tree - but where she could hear him, at least.
The lioness jumped a little. It was still the early half-grey light of the morning, before the sun really rose... even now, there was just the faintest hint of orange from the horizon. She blinked and finally found focus on the dark face nearby, body tensing. Rogue prey was one thing.... rogue lions were quite another. This one was dark, black against the dark earth, save for his mane...
The female's ruby eyes narrowed, cautious. Black was said to be extremely lucky--a mark of the Goddess's favour. Her own granddaughter, rogue born, was black as pitch... yet, this was a pure-rogue. Different. Even in all the many seasons--years, even--that they had spent out in the rogue lands, Embamba had never once spoken a word to a rogue.
Was it irony that she would have one approach her now, when she had come home and wandered away once more. Now when she had no protection from mate or pride nearby to aid her if the heathen grew hostile? Best not to provoke it. "Some of us like the cool.. and the sun isn't strong yet."
The female's reaction made him assume that she was probably not a rogue. Her momentary shock, and hesitance about speaking to him seemed to insinuate she was certainly not used to talking to the rogues out in these lands. That meant she was probably from a nearby pride, though he didn't know any of the ones around besides his own.
He sat down slowly, his form relaxed, his tail wavering slightly behind him in an attempt to look as casual and calm as possible. If he remained standing, or was tense, it would likely make her think he really was truly hostile. Issy probably didn't have a hostile bone in his body, despite his seemingly rogue heritage.
"Well, then my apologies, fair lady," he said with a dip of his head, "if you prefer the cool then by all means remain in the shade. It'd be a shame to hide that pretty face in all those shadows, though." He offered his best charming smile. He was a bit of a flirt, sure, but he didn't go to the extremes Ezzy did. He just liked to make the ladies smile.
The disgust on her face had to have been obvious, even in the dark. Oh for certain, there was a part of her--the most feminine part of her--that was actuely flattered that he'd bother to flirt with her when she looked as she did. Her fur was still mostly disheveled, she had dirt and grime everywhere but the few places she'd managed to clean, her head tuft was sticking out places and she was fairly certain that even her mask couldn't be seen through the travel stains. But a male flirting with her at all was also a.. rare thing. She was somewhat shocked to realize she had never been flirted with, and only recognized it from having witnessed peers courting in her younger years.
"Sometimes shadows are what a woman needs to keep away those who play too freely with their tongues." She replied warrily. The lioness considered walking away for a moment, but one paw pressed more solidly to the earth told her that this would not be happening right now. She'd walked for the major portion of three days straight--possibly more, if she'd lost count.. no, her legs weren't good for much of anything right now. A little scared by this, she tucked the paw under her chest and pretended to be calm. "Beside, should one who looks so like a shadow preach of keeping from them?"
"or," She considered with a bark of dry laughter, "Are you giving me warning?"
Idly, he wondered precisely what the lioness had been up to. She was rather disheveled, dirty from head to toe, and looked more uncomfortable than nearly any lioness he had ever seen out in the rogue lands. Sure, he had seen travel worn males and females, cub dirty from head to toe from this or that, but she seemed to be different. He couldn't get close enough to see, but he didn't think she was comfortable in the slightest. He let it pass, however, for he knew there was nothing he could do about it. A little dirt and wear never put him off, though.
"A warning? What sort of warning would I be giving?" he quirked a brow at her with an expression that said he clearly had no idea what she was talking about. Her comments about his coloring looking so like a shadow did, however, make him laugh slightly. "Oh, but you know me well, miss. Calling me a creature of the shadows, though I'm not half as shady as you might think." He gave her a dip of his head, "my name is, however, Isithunzi." That had been what made him laugh - his name, actually, did mean shadow.
She snorted. "no, not shady in the slightest," She agreed but didn't. The female looked away, then realized that that might have given him a moment to try..... something and looked back at him again. The female didn't want to clean herself in front of him. "Shadows mark you, shadows name you.... a more religious lion might think there's a sign here," She half-muttered drolly.
He watched her freak out, eyebrows furrowed slightly. He had encountered a lot of odd characters, mean characters, even a few he was sure were technically crazy. He had, up until this point, never met another who treated him like he was dangerous. "It is not a sign of anything, I'm afraid, do not give me such credit. There's nothing so glorious as that about me," a slow smirk spread over his maw - choosing to turn the words in her own mouth as he saw fit. He'd prefer to joke than have her morbid mood ruining his morning. "Well, it could be a sign that I was never meant to fit in where I'm supposed to. Shadows aren't too common among a land of golden lions," he shrugged, eyes shifting towards the sun where it was, just above the horizon.
"I said a more religious lion.. which I am not." That was a lie, but she was a fairly good liar when she needed to be. His comment about not fitting in bothered her.. but she would say nothing of why. Shifting slightly, the frown on her face deepened as golden light spilled across the land in a single moment, as it always did. The orange-red beams flickered over her face, lighting the mask she wore beneath the dirt. She had once been very beautiful.. that, at least, was apparent. "Those who are signs rarely know that they are... beyond that, if you feel out of place perhaps its time to move on. Feelings are signs as much as anything else."
His eyes shifted back towards her as soon as that orange beam spread over her face, lighting something beneath all that grime. With a little smile, he watched her for a moment - quite struck by the fact that she could still manage some semblance of attractiveness beneath all of that Of course, that's when he realized she was talking. "Wha? Oh, well, I suppose that's why I'm all the way out here. I keep thinking I'll find something that I'm looking for, but I never really do." He shrugged, glancing down at his paws for a moment. He was even darker than she was, sitting there coated in dirt. With the exception of his mane, he could have been an actual shadow.
Embamba took in a quick gasp of air at that. Her ears perked a bit, entire body coming alert. Yes... that... that... Her red eyes cast over him again, still warry--almost like prey caught beneath his paws, really, but.. proud too. "Yes." She responded presently, voice attempting to hide the strange note of understanding he'd struck. "Yes... I could .. see that."
Certainly, she'd never run off on her own like this before... but she also hadn't not wanted to. She was scared to do what she'd do what she'd done.. and in the later seasons she'd wanted home more than anything else... but when she had been younger, the world was a place she'd longed to be out in. Her mother had always written it off as---She wasn't makeing since.
Embamba slammed a mental paw down upon her circle of thoughts and emotions. It was doing no good for her to sink into such things again, especially not after the trip she'd just had. She lifted one paw, not noticing that it shook like a leaf--it always did that-- and rubbed one temple with a limb as weak as a day-old kittens. God she hated herself.
"So you do that then? roam around all the time, rather than stay in land that's safe?"
Issy had no idea what was wrong with the other lioness, but he knew what was wrong with himself. Day after day, he sat alone in the land he had grown up in, watching the golden pelts of everyone that didn't look like him. He had family, sure, and a father and sister that looked something akin to him - but they themselves were barely around. It had been alright, being different, when he had someone else to relate to. Now, he was alone, and it caused his soul to grow even more restless.
"I don't really think about the pride being safe, or these lands being a little dangerous," he said with a shrug, eyeing her carefully after that little perk she had gone through. "My soul tells me to wander, and I do. What's the use of being scared of these lands? After all, you seem to think I look like quite the dangerous rogue. That's good enough cover as any."
He frowned at her shaking paw, the touch to her temple. A frown creased his maw, natural worry for anything female coming into play. He wouldn't pry, but he did question silently. Why was she out here, especially in such a condition as that?
Embamba gave a disbelieving sort of huff. Was it just a commonality among males then? Annoyance at her 'mate' and herself and.. well, life in general finally got her to throw caution to the wind. "Of course you look dangerous! You've a rogue! a heathen! Even if you have a code of honor, you carry corruption in your every move, why should i not be fearful?"
She snorted, "Besides, only a fool wouldn't be scared out on their own. No one to watch their back or to help them when they fall. There... there isn't anyone who doesn't need that.." But her words now sounded weak even to her. Her ears flattened back as she admitted that, silently, manner becoming defensive again. However, she'd long since stopped watching him.. or directing this at him. It seemed more like the female was speaking with someone else entirely. "Why would anyone even want to come out here? there's no point to it.. much better to be with their family."
He looked quite taken aback at her words, as they came tumbling on in a torrent that would have done well to stab anyone else in the heart. His eyes narrowed fractionally, his tail thumping against the ground. "You're calling me a heathen while you sit there, disheveled and covered in dirt, looking like you crawled from the bowels of the earth?" He laughed softly, mirth dancing in his eyes. "I'm no rogue, love, just because I happen to be a little darker than your precious pelt is." It wasn't said coldly, there was a bit of amusement there, but he did wonder what kind of nutjob place she was from to believe such a thing as that.
"Well, you're out here all alone aren't you?" he sighed softly and looked up towards the sun, eyes shifting over the horizon. He listened to her, with half a ear, hearing the distance in her voice. She seemed to have some pent up anger at someone.. someone that wasn't him. "My family isn't much of a family anymore." Sure, it was a little irrational to stick around after she pretty much told him he was the scum of the earth, but she really did look a little helpless.
She would later wish that she had heard his last statement before the thought had occurred to her. His question, however, seemed to block up any response she might have made because the answer slammed up into her throat and out her mouth before she even knew what it was. Maybe that was what gave it the cold, distant calm with which it was delivered.
"I came out here to die."
His eyes snapped back to her, deep green pools as bright as the leaves of trees in the depths of summer. Full of a sudden panic he wasn't sure was well-placed, they watched her in a horror he had never before experienced. He didn't know anyone who had ever come to accept death, decided upon it entirely. She seemed to have just realized it, but she was all too comfortable with it for his tastes. She was serious.
"You.. can't do that," he said finally, shaking his head and sending the rusty locks of his mane waving slightly. "I'm sure your family.. they would miss you."
For a long moment, Embamba merely blinked. In all actuality, she was just as surprised as he was to hear that come out of her mouth--but it didn't make it any less true. When she'd been wandering those three days... she hadn't cared. She hadn't thought, she hadn't considered, she'd just... kept going on. In fact, there'd been a strange sort of peace in the lack of thought or emotion that had overcome her during those days.
Now that she'd said it, though.... she was shivering again, all over her body, quite a lot more upset than he'd thought. It was as if a spell had been broken over her--a spell of acceptance and resolution. "Miss me?" She asked in a tiny voice.
".... perhaps. But i wouldn't be sure of that." A dull embarrassment at telling this to a total stranger throbbed at her cheeks. The larger part of her needed this, though, it needed to be heard by someone who wasn't close enough to hurt her. Heard by someone, anyone.. who would jsut listen, if only for a moment. "my children see me as something fear. As a.... as a judgmental, unforgiving woman they only deal with because they have to... because i'm around and they can't get away from me... the rest of my family is long dead, save my cousin and his wife.. and they could do without my weakness in their pride."
Her mouth moved silent as a fish's for a few moments. When she spoke again, her voice had drooped to a hurt whisper. "My mate... my mate doesn't even know who i am. Why would he care? He just about killed me himself, even if he never laid a paw on me."
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