-- AIM Rp between Ntombi and Kioo ((DFA & Ume))
It'd been days since they'd found the swamp, but finally ... finally they'd reached what Ntombi was certain were the outskirts of the Mteo pride territory. In other words; Kioo had somehow managed to find the place, despite adversities. Needless to say the lioness was silently impressed, however, she dared not say word about it; the male had remain in a strange mood for a while now, and every time she tried to pry him open, or at least scratch at the wall he'd erected around him, he'd turned away from her.
Still she did not know much about him, save his name.
But then again, soon enough, it wouldn't matter; the sun was setting in the background as they padded. She calculated they'd reach the borders by night and then, he'd be gone. Just as swiftly as she'd found him. Somehow, it felt like a shame for it all to end; she'd had (dare she say it?) fun for once, and the princess hated to see it all end. She was, however, stubborn enough to try a thing or two yet though, "What will you do?" she asked as she padded by his side, looking behind them briefly, from where they'd come from, "Do you have somewhere to return to?" it was a blunt question, but she was tired of tiptoe around the questions she asked. Specially with so little time left, tiptoeing was not a commodity she could afford.
Kioo was a brooder. He internalized his thoughts and thought the thoughts of a bitter person. He had quickly not become a very vocal person about his problems almost as soon as he was exiled from his pride. He had lost an audience that was required to listen to him. He no longer had a sympathetic ear. Naturally, he became suspicious of everyone who tried to pry his secrets from him, who wanted to befriend him. No, they only wanted leverage on him, some sort of benefit to prove that they are better than he. To veer away from it had been hard. He had joked with himself, saying that he would tell her the truth but he just couldn't. There were times on the trip where he had come close to opening his mouth and telling it as a joke or in a roundabout way. But he couldn't. Despite the fact that he did find joy in shocking people, he couldn't do it.
The swamp had been a wrong turn. But now they were back on track. He didn't know if they'd reach it soon. But her body language certainly said they were near. Well, that was good news. He could go back to his normal self and be a plague on the face of the savannah ...with his tongue. Because with his body, he'd have to do good deeds unless he wanted to die.
He looked at her when she asked the question. What did she expect from him? She should know that answer, he thought bitterly. Oh. Oh so that was it. She pityed him. So he was to be pitied, eh? "I'll do what I'm doing now," he said blandly. "Help people. That sort of thing." She couldn't pity him for such an answer, no? It might not be what he would rather do with his life but hey, sometimes you've gotta roll with the punches.
"And you?" he asked. "What are you going to do? What have you got back home?" It wasn't a snarky question and asked rather friendly-like. And then, of course, it was a sort of jab at pride life. He couldn't help it. He had lost his.
She knew he'd been holding something; it showed in the way he moved, and even in the way hesitated, from time to time before opening his mouth. It'd been clear on several ocassions that what he'd said was obviously not what his mind had thought of at first. She knew the symtoms because she too shared them; she kept on wanting to ask him outright, what on EARTH was wrong with him, but she'd dared not. On more than one ocasion she'd tried and stoped before even uttering the first silable. He'd be gone, what did she care?
Excuses, excuses, excuses.
It was all Ntombi could think of; excuses to keep herself from asking what was really on her mind. Because asking would inevitably mean she'd have to admit she actualy cared. The notion was frightening in more than one way and so excuses were set in order to veer away from the thought.
It wasn't working though.
The question she'd asked had a double meaning, and by the way she looked back bitterly at her, she'd known the answer before he even spoke. There was no pity in her words; far from it. Pity implied she thought herself above him and though.... that had been true for a while, the notion had vanished. Instead she stared right back at him, no snark, no amusement in her eyes. Again she fought with herself for a moment, her eyes narrowing, and she answered not his words.
It wasn't till he asked his own set of questions that she looked back at him, and actualy paused her padding for just a moment to ponder, "Live life," she said, "I've got..." no answer to that, she thought mildly, "Family... others. And home," she said finaly, "It's home."
He had expected a response from her but was surprised not to get one. Maybe she'd rather he did, that he left her right here. And he was tempted after thinking that thought to himself except he hadn't been dismissed so he hadn't technically completed his deed. Darn all these rules and limitations.
Her answers to his questions only made him less happy. He should have expected them. And of course, he realized he rather hear those. Because although the question was clearly asked to try and get her to admit she didn't have anything there, he hadn't truly wanted her to say it. Because then he would have just felt like an a** rather than get any satisfaction. As a matter of fact, the answer she gave didn't suit him either. Because he couldn't exactly ask for a home, now could he? That would be asking for him not to be who he was, to be a kind simpleton without a thought of his own in his head.
But he had asked the question and rather than be an a**, he decided to give her a nice little reply back. "Good." Then she knew where she belonged and he knew where he belonged ...or so he told himself. But truth was he didn't know where he was meant to be. Which worked for him. Because that meant he could speculate and accuse his fate of being one thing or another as the situation allowed. Right now it suited him to believe that his curse forced him to be a rogue and roam forever.
She realised that no answer would have worked in that case; no question would've worked either, really. None of the ones that really mattered anyhow. She'd known the reason for his set of questions, but her loyalties were to her pride, to her parents, and to her people.... even though she was hardly the heir, and would never be. There was that word again; responsibility . She HATED that word... always had; it was her 'responsibility' to be in the pride, to help her her people, and to hunt for them and herself. The real answer to his questions was the one that had been haunting her, plaguing her for a couple of days now.
Not you.
Ntombi kept the answer to herself though, for she knew it wouldn't be to his liking either. What could she do anyhow? Tell him to stay? Please? Leave with him? None of the solutions that sprung to mind worked.
As he spoke again; that single word, she nodded, "Yeah," her heart wasn't into it though, that much was visible. And then suddenly, she stopped and frowned, stomping her foot down on the floor, reminiscent of their first meeting, "No! No it's NOT good!" she told him, "It's NOT good!" but she could not go on; could not add the important bits to her phrase; You're not THERE though.
