She worried. Constantly.
And, as the days came and went she found herself becoming twitchy and agitated. Anyone who came upon her would find nothing but a hurl of verbal abuse from the moment she set eyes on them until the moment they left her in peace. And when she was alone she fell into terrible bouts of silence and broodiness.
Slowly but surely she’d fallen into a morning routine – born of her paranoia and fear of what might be lingering in her womb. She’d wake, shake the dizziness of sleep from her mind and stretch out on her side so she could glance down at her belly. Was it getting bigger? Or had it always looked that way? It was bigger! She was sure of it! But then again, it could just be the paranoia talking.
If I keep on like this, she thought dismally, My body is going to start believing my mind. But she couldn’t help but glance at her stomach throughout the day, wandering if she could see less of her hips that before – as she walked around the lands. Finally, with a groan of despair, she had tried to settle to sleep. But now her dreams were filled with the constant mewing of little ones. At first she’d started from her dreams thinking she could hear her sister’s brood. But, after listening to nothing but the angry squawks of birds, she knew she must have been imagining it.
“I’m going mad.” She finally called out loud, venting her anger.
This continued for many days and finally, after a few weeks had passed, she was starting to get over what had happened to her that day with the male. It did not trouble her that she did not know his name. He wasn’t worthy of a title and she certainly wouldn’t use it in any case. She just worried that when he did return, he’d find her belly void of cubs and press upon her to try again. She knew the condition was that she would be the ‘vessel’ for his cubs, but had he specified whether he wanted more than one attempt? Argh! She couldn’t remember! Even still, she would refuse him. It had been hard enough to live with it the first time, let alone be forced to submit for a second time! The shame of it!
This morning she woke to a dizzy spell that refused to fade – even when she tried to shake it loose. For a moment her vision twisted and she stood, reluctantly, hoping that it would ease things back to normal. It didn’t, however, and she staggered sideways, gagging as the nausea waved over her. She lowered herself to her belly, breathing deeply, and waited a good few minutes for it to pass. When it did she was almost afraid to stand again,
“What is happening to me?”
Fear gripped her innards and her stomach did a somersault. For a moment she could barely catch her breath, and then suddenly she heaved herself to her feet and loped quickly to the water. She splashed into the shallows to slake her thirst and when she was done she raised her head and watched the drips from her chin ripple her reflection.
“Stop jumping to conclusions. It could be anything. A virus. An…illness. It didn’t necessarily have to mean she was pregnant. But what if she was? She thought helplessly. It was done now and there was nothing she could do.
With a sob she turned back to the bank and draped herself beneath the dappled sun, stretching leisurely beneath it, turning her head to glance at her stomach.
It was bigger.
And so it was that every day she awake to sickness – a sickness that subsided – and everyday she would retreat to her favourite spot by the falls and watch the curve of her stomach to see if it was expanding. But, because she saw it everyday she barely noticed a difference. She had no photograph or image to compare herself to and so she prayed that the sickness was nothing but a cold. But, after a few more days she was forced to admit the truth.
It happened during one of her sunny, lounging sessions when a bright voice called down to her.
“Good afternoon there, lioness.”
Horowai cracked open an eye, growling angrily. “Who’s disturbing my rest?”
“My name is Kucha. Up here. No, not there, in the tree!”
Horowai lifted her eyes to locate the voice and found, to her surprise, a brightly coloured avian perched upon one of the branches. Her feathers were a brilliant orange. Birds were perhaps the only creature Horowai didn’t mind. They were bright and pretty and the parrots, especially, seemed to be rather intelligent creatures – though they did like to talk a lot.
“A brazen thing, you are, disturbing my peace and quiet.”
“Brazen? Perhaps I am, but I could not help but stop and utter my congratulations.”
“For what? For being brilliant and beautiful?” Horowai smiled and perfect teeth glimmered in her jaws. “I certainly do not feel myself today. I should be going to see my sister but I cannot bring myself to do it. The thought of conversation and pride wandering is…exhausting.”
“It seems there are many females in your condition.” Kucha continued. “Only the other day I was flying across the desert. I saw a red female there and gave her some advice. She certainly needed it. But you seem content to me.”
“I was content.” Horowai retorted. “What are you blathering on about, bird?”
Kucha twittered with surprise. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” Horowai snapped, thinking she should stand and pounce the creature before it could irritate her any further.
“Why, lioness, you are pregnant!”
Horowai’s jaw slung open as if on a hinge. For a moment she gaped silently as the bird fluffed up her feathers. Then, as it often did with such thoughts, her stomach shifted and the nausea returned. She couldn’t be pregnant! She’d been back and forth these past few weeks and had finally decided to settle on the fact that the attempt had clearly been unsuccessful. But here was this little creature telling her the one thing that she did not want to hear. For as much as she had liked the idea of it when speaking with her sister, the moment Tejasvi had gone, the panic had returned. Her sister was a good, calming influence on Horowai. Her very presence tamed that rebellious, needy creature and turned her – if only briefly – into a decent cat. Without her, however, she quickly returned to her bad habits. She’d continued to sneak around shamefully and her dramatics had only increased. No doubt, her pregnancy would only heighten this trait in her.
“Look for yourself, lioness. Your belly is swollen. Not noticeable to you, perhaps, but to an outsider like me, it’s as clear as day. It’s early yet, but I bet you’ll birth a horde of little beauties – just like their mother.”
Horowai couldn’t help but preen at the flattery and Kucha’s words helped dull the panic a little. However, the ease did not last long as she thought further on what the bird had said. It was obvious? Then the pride would soon take notice! It was true! It was true! A wave of fatigue and sickness washed over her anew.
“You are very lucky.”
“Lucky? I didn’t want to be a mother. I still don’t.” Horowai replied, snappy.
“But why? This should be a special time. The beginning of something beautiful! I wish I could be a mother someday.”
“Then go find yourself a male.”
“That is why I fly the world now, lioness, to settle with a mate and start a family. I’m not getting any younger. Neither are you. Cherish this time.”
“But I don’t know how to be a mother! I don’t know how to do anything but my job as a guard.”
“No one knows how to be a mother, lioness; it is an instinct that they discover. You will find it sometime, I promise you. By the sound of it, you are also part of a pride. They will help you, too. You are lucky to have pride members to rely on. Parrots do not. We know only of our own raising and include our parent’s techniques to our own hatchlings.” She blinked her beady eyes. “It may seem like a scary and terrible thing now, but when they are curled at your side you will think differently.”
Horowai ignored her. She stood so that her head was almost level with the bird. Almost, but not quite. Her sharp green eyes bore into the parrot’s and for a moment she seemed unsure of what to say. Then, finally, “You are certain I am pregnant? It seems odd to trust a parrot’s observations of lions.”
“Having no children of my own.” Kucha explained. “I adopted. In my time I have seen a wild dog pup grow to adult and bear cubs. I, too, have seen a young lion couple meet, fall in love, and also begin a family. Since I left them to their own devices I have seen another pregnant lioness – though she was further into her time than you. Trust me, lioness, an expectant mother gains a glow about her – even if they don’t know about it.”
Horowai narrowed her eyes. “I think I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it. I never wanted to be a parent. Never wanted a male close enough me to warrant it.” She growled. “But since its hear and I know in my heart you are right, I have things to do.”
“Things? No, no, certainly not. Relax, lioness, relax and enjoy this time.”
“I have to tell my sister. I promised her. After that I shall preen and absorb all the attention my little heart desires.” She flicked her tail and a small smirk drew across her face. “I guess I owe you my thanks, bird Kucha.” She replied. “So thank you.”
“Not at all, lioness.”
“I am Horowai.”
“Horowai. Good luck to you then.”
The blue lioness turned from the avian and, with swift steps, carried herself into the foliage where the shade blurred the lines of her dark blue pelt and had her merging with shadow.
/fin
