Saburi was pregnant and that had been the final straw that had broken, not Vuvimoto’s back, but Vuvimoto’s heart. He’d recognised her across the vastness of empty sand that separated the two sets of Firekin’s territories in the desert. She’d been heading out to hunt with Ilahle it looked like and her belly had been swelled in a way that was obviously not with surplus fat. She’d been cub heavy.
Vuvimoto, when not needed for a hunt, had often spent his time wandering on the edges of the Safi-moto. That was how he’d spotted Saburi and had known she was definitely, forever, out of his reach. She must have found a lover on the other side.
He was wandering again today, cresting a dune of sand and half-sliding down the other side in the controlled manner of one who’d lived all his life on sand. He was trying not to remember that brief sight and what it meant to him. He was Firekin, he was strong and proud. Eventually with all this brooding wandering he'd get over the change in both his personal life and in his pride. ...yeah...eventually. Maybe he just needed a good distraction.
*
Burnished, wine-red pelt rippled over the well-defined muscles of the lone huntress. She'd had to make it out here in the desert, long before these more ... interesting ... generations had come to pass. And while Finar-si could not fight well, she was what life had bred her to be: a huntress to her very bones. Violet eyes spat color and life as she rolled along, her wings hidden in illusion. Not Finar-si, then, but 'Karama,' the paradox of the mother of the traitor and yet the devoted priestess to Finar-si. She had resurfaced, at last. Time meant little to her now: this life currently had lasted for generation upon generation, and she was often surprised when she went away and returned to find grown cubs. They had all started to blend together, except for several individuals from these last few generations.
It had started with Makadari, really ... the whole fascinating downward spiral. Jua, Dhyn, Kimeti, Mwezi, Kope ... she frowned, brows tilting together. There were more, she was sure of it. Daughters and, of course, sons. But those children were all grown, and it was time to stir a little more ... interest into the pride. Were there any seers left, besides her own offspring? Time for the prides to get a bit more interesting. If she couldn't insinuate herself into either pride again, and she couldn't be sure of a welcome to either, she could at least perhaps leave something of her own to continue the pride's exciting turns.
The female delicately rolled over the dunes, her paws barely sinking in the sand, light as a feather. She was tough, but she was also a lady, and she knew grace. Karama's ears cup forward as she spots someone just over the ridge, her chin tucking slightly in a gesture of non-hostility and dignity.
*
When he spotted the other Firekin, Vuvimoto stopped watching his paws as he went, stopped his moping. He did have his pride if nothing else and matched dignity with dignity, unaware that the goddess he worshiped was before him in mortal guise. A mortal guise he thought he recognized. Then again, had he known while he’d have been more humble, he’d still have remained proud and try to keep his cool.
As he watched her come closer, he let a small smile grow. He’d never really seen her close to but he knew who this was. How could he not? Kimeti’s old mate and consort, mother of the king of the enemy Simo, mother of several other members. But he’d been told before she was a wandering huntress and priest of Finar-Si, which was why he’d never really seen her about, Vuvi supposed.
Seemed that they had chosen the same spot to wander in today. It’d make for an interesting distraction anyway. Vuvimoto was pretty sure that Karama was not allied with the Simo or the Safi, that she remain just a Firekin. Without the new labels and devide.
“Greetings.” He said politely enough, and making sure he didn’t broadcast his curiousity.
*
He was a male lion: and, judging by that coat and build, one of her own. Not one of her sons, nor one she knew offpaw; but she would be very surprised if it had been. How long had she been away this time? She can't remember. For some reason, the thought disturbs her.
"Bright day to you," she murmurs, keeping her voice low and eyes downcast, though she flicks him a glance briefly, quietly. He was handsome, and she had never been able to keep away from a pretty face. "Who do I have the pleasure of greeting?" Best be sure of who he is - and what side he's on - before she starts throwing her lot in with one or the other. Still, he seems polite enough, so either he's a traditional who recognizes her as such ... or a rebel who is a bit more lenient.
*
“Vuvimoto, a hunter of the Firekin.” He didn’t bother to specify. These days the lines seemed so futile. He had been fine with freeing slaves and bringing in new blood but not with abandoning the worship of Finar-si. He could very easily have become a Simo Firekin rather than a Safi, had he not ended up somehow fighting with Ilahle and Kadogo that day. He regretted his actions and it was bitter to think he could have gone with Saburi and - …and never mind. The past was written and not even the goddess herself could change that.
“You’re Karama, aren’t you? We never have been introduced, but I remember you.” She was rather beautiful and clearly strong, a devoted follower of the goddess from what he’d heard. That and her red colour was instantly attractive to him. Bit hard to forget entirely, though it had been seasons since he’d last glimpsed her, this one.
*
She nodded, vaguely curious that he did not specify which side. A traditionalist, who only saw his side as true Firekin? But that made no sense whatsoever, not with his personality towards her ... intrigued, and not a little curious, she tries to pry answers out of him ... albeit in a circular, more subtle route.
She nods, unable to help the wariness that creeps into her eyes. "Indeed," she murmurs, "Karama, priestess of the Firekin. I do not often leave the sands to come to the pride ... it's been moons since I had last returned." She smiles, wryly, as if sharing a private joke. "Do you hunt now, Vuvimoto? I passed a herd of eland on my way into the interior."
*
“Thank you but no I’m off duty. Though if you’d care for company on a hunt I’d be happy to oblige” He shrugged slightly, was if he was talking to an old friend. She was nothing of the sort but he was so tired these days. If it turned out the old priestess wished to kill him he’d fight back and die with pride and dignity or kill her. But he couldn’t be bothered with being too wary. He was just so weary at heart.
“I suppose I should ask you if you’re with the Simo or the Safi, and vice versa you ask me.” Better to cut straight to the chase and save them the time. There were eland to hunt if she so fancied or more interesting topics they could in theory be discussing.
*
She shook her head, however. "I feasted yesterday," she replies, mildly. If she brings down a kill every few days, that's been enough to keep her well in shape.
A thin, tight-lipped smile is given at the words. "I serve the goddess only - " it was, really, nothing more than the truth - " ... and therefore, I honor whoever keeps Her in their hearts and minds. I am not as concerned with the more ... mundane squabbles of the pride." She shakes her head. "True Firekin is something found in the heart, not in a pride name."
*
“Well said.” The black-furred male nodded as she spoke, agreeing.
“I’m more for the goddess than some, so I’m afraid my choice was made for me when I heard even the name Finar-si is forbidden on the Simo side of things…despite what I lost, at least I have my faith in the Safi.” He replied, and found he was oddly refreshed to hear someone say that. He’d been born to a superstitious family and one who, while forced to leave the desert because of the Plague, had made sure their son had taken to heart honouring the goddess if nothing else. So at least he had his faith and wandering out here in the free desert, now he had no friends or family on this side, and no prospective mate, no beloved…his thoughts were still going in circles.
*
She sighed, giving a shake of her head at the news. Inwardly, she was rather impressed with her son, as well as struck by the irony - which would have been more hilarious if she hadn't been so touchy about it. Her son didn't believe she existed? That was, indeed, rather a paradox. Either that, or he didn't acknowledge her. Then again, he didn't know who his mother was, truly ... or did he? Those seer powers she had left him with may have clued him in. Her inward mirth died immediately. Hmm. That could be problematic.
She bestows a quiet smile on him and his words, though. "I'm glad to hear it, even as the war divides our people. It's good, to know someone keeps the faith. Finar-si would appreciate it; I know." The simple statement is said with confidence, as well as almost a teasing undertone, as if she knew more than she said. Her ears cup forward, catching on one word. "Lost?" She inquires, softly.
*
“Friends and ones who were as close as family to me joined the Simo. Though I’m sure…I hope that in secret they still believe in the goddess as they used to and don’t judge me too harshly. They are good Firekin but worried that the Blood grew inbred.” He didn’t mention Saburi nor, yet, that he agreed with them. Karama seemed like she might be of like mind to him so far and it was uplifting to Vuvimoto. And after grieving and worrying so long, after mourning his losses, he needed it. Craved it. To just talk to someone who agreed with his own stance on the whole thing.
He even justified breeding with rogues in his mind that Finar-si? A goddess of change. Without change, without movement forward, things grew stagnant. Weak. If the rogues could live up to the expectations of the Firekin, then let the Blood mingle and grow strong again. For her. For Finar-si, he thought, wouldn’t want her pride ending up an inbred bunch of swine barely fit enough to catch an antelope and too addled to count their own paws.
*
She bowed her head briefly. "It is hard, when family is divided thus. My sons ... " She trailed off, sounding quite as if she were unwilling to talk about it due to pain. In truth, she really just didn't know what to say about them; she barely knew them. A part of her was appalled that she could play this part with ease, could help orchestrate the tearing apart of kith and kin - but the more dominant part of her, that which spoke to her godly side, was vastly amused. Look at what she'd done!
"There are arguments to both sides. It's only too poor that they cannot agree to worship Finar-si, as must be done, and yet embrace the changes they know must come if the pride is to survive. I agree with you. Do others think as you do, do you know?" Ears and eyes come up again, studying him.
*
He too, let his head drop for the moment, but then it was past and he was back to studying the red female in front of him and deciding how to phrase things.
“Perhaps. Who can say? Especially when we Firekin are not known for our leniency. After all, the sundering was a bloody battle, not lions sitting about discussing their points of view on the matter logically.” He shrugged. Once he might have said that yes, he knew Ilahle agreed. Though no blood relative of his, as a young girl she’d been impressed enough to ask the older hunter to teach her, to help make her the best huntress she could be. They’d grown close over the seasons and he thought once he’d known her mind.
Now for all he knew she /had/ renounced Finar-si being in the Simo.
