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Had it been days since he fled the pride? He couldn't really remember, his sleep schedule having been thrown off badly by running through at least one night. Or was it two? Gods and spirits, it wasn't normal for a cheetah to be unable to tell how long he'd been awake and running. Of course, being a cheetah he was mostly limited to sprinting, and being injured he tended to do a lot of limping in between sprints. He decided to blame his confusion on the pain in his forepaw. Running on it wasn't helping, but he was sufficiently disoriented that he was no longer even aware of whether or not he was within the boundaries of his pride's lands or whether he had entered the rogue lands. For a cheetah who had been a runner for his pride, that was a little embarrassing. He was supposed to be intimately acquainted with every rock, tree, and puddle in the pride's lands. Either way, he knew they'd be after him and he had to press on.

His stomach growled and he realized he hadn't eaten in about as long as he hadn't slept. Longer, if he recalled correctly. He dropped reluctantly from his sprinting gait and began to plod along limpingly. His fear of pursuit was still sufficient to overcome a great deal of the discomfort of running, but it was a relief not to be running any more. He turned his blue eyes to the scenery, looking for familiar landmarks or maybe something to eat.

As he made his cautious way, he put his uninjured forepaw down on something that was obviously not the ground and jumped back, startled. The action of jumping back shifted a great deal of his weight to his injured forepaw and he went down with a groan that was half an attempt at a growl. He was injured, but he wasn't weak!

Dormin had been dreaming about butterflies. How pretty they were, and how fun it was to chase them. And how nice and gooey they were when you finally chomped them to bits. She smirked in her sleep and rolled over, just as something hard jabbed her in the side. "HEY!" She bolted awake, rolling to her feet and turning a circle to find what'd poked her so rudely. Of course the purp was easy enough to spot, with his bold red fur standing out even more than her livid green. "You stepped on me!" She huffed and tossed her head, fixing him with a look. "I thought cheetahs knew to look where they were going when they were running...hey. Hey your paw looks pretty brised there! Tell me that's not just from stepping on me!" She rolled her eyes and moved closer. "Geez. What's your name kid? You look pretty banged up. Huh...yup. Looks like you been fighting! Good thing you were out here and not in my home. Fighting's illegal when it gets this rough. Now let me see..."

Mana scrambled backward hastily, disregarding how uncomfortable it was for him to do so. Delightful. He'd stumbled across a lion, and not only a lion, but a green lion. A dishonorable death in the last life. Before he was even aware of it, Mana's expression shifted from one of dismay to disdain. He may be a spiritless cheetah, but at least his coat wasn't visible proof that his last death had been dishonorable. He managed to school his expression to neutrality just before his scornful look reached a sneer. That would probably be a bad idea, considering how agile and limber this lioness appeared to be.

"I assure you it was accidental," Mana replied, bristling. "And it's not my fault that your coat is the same color as the grass. The fault for that lies with..."

He trailed off, making a split-second decision that he couldn't very go around spouting Mizumu'Tungikia beliefs now that he was no longer a member of the pride. Doing so would only make him stand out and when his pursuers came this way they would only have to ask if anyone had seen a cheetah of their pride and he'd be readily identified. It would be better - much better - if he could pass for just a regular rogue. That would attract far less attention. Thank the gods and spirits that he was invisble to the eyes of spirits. That's probably why she hadn't sensed him and woken before he managed to step on her.

"I'm Mana," he answered, not having a ready reply for when someone asked his name. He'd need to work on that in the future, he thought to himself.

It somehow didn't surprise him that this green lioness came from a place where fighting was illegal. She would probably be green in every incarnation until the end of time. Mana definitely didn't want someone with such a disgraceful spirit looking at or trying to heal his paw. And so he lied unconvincingly, "It's not nearly as bad as it looks. Even if it was, I really don't have time to hang around and mess with healers."

Alright now, what was with that look he was giving? You'd think she was something foul or a pile of goo or other, with that face. Geez, the thanks she got for trying to help people..."The fault for that lies with my mother, thank you. A great warrior, I'm glad I got her markings." She puffed herself proudly. "Being green makes it easier to hide from my prey. You on the other hand, well." She chuckled. "Well your name's certainly nicer than your tone, Mana. You go around treating everyone who tries to help you like they've rolled in rhino dung?" She raised a brow at him. "Maybe that's what got you hurt to start with," She mumbled to herself before scooting closer. "And you're worse at lying than you are at watching where you're going. Give it here now. I'm NOT a healer, but I know a thing or two about battle injuries. That's what my pride's all about, you know. We police the area, make sure people don't get picked on or abused. YOU look like you've been had at, both the way that paw looks AND your attitude."

She was proud of her markings? Her mother was a warrior? Gods and spirits, outsiders were strange. Mana felt a fleeting moment of panic as he thought these things and wondered if it was too late to return to the pride and beg to be forgiven. He would return as a slave, though, and only if he was fortunate. As a slave he would be mutilated for his participation in the rebellion and his flight. No. It was definitely too late for him to go back, which meant he had to keep running. And, apparently, he'd have to deal with strange people like this one. What a joy. He grimaced at the thought and hoped it would be mistaken for a reaction to how his paw felt. It did feel grimace-worthy, but he was too proud to show that willingly.

"I'm sorry," he said, backpedaling. "I was startled and, as you can see, in some pain. It's not an ideal condition for speaking. I should have thought before I spoke."

He debated letting her look at his paw. If she was really trained in battle injuries, it would be good to have her assistance, but he couldn't help thinking that she was not a creature worthy of his respect, let alone his trust. The idea of a pride that policed the area was alien to him, and he was entirely certain he wanted nothing to do with them. A pride that forbade fights and thought itself deserving of monitoring and controlling others' actions seemed like just the sort of pride he wanted to avoid. They'd probably feel obligated to turn him in as a runaway slave, too, when his pursuers reached them. Unless they knew what was in store for him with the Mizimu'Tungiku. Then they'd probably be horrified and take his side. He was distinctly unimpressed by this pride.

"I appreciate your concern," he said, making an effort to sound polite and reasonable. "But really it only looks bad because I've been running on it." It didn't occur to him that he should probably prepare an excuse for why he was running.

Hmph! Well he sure was a character. And all she wanted to do was help. Of course she didn't miss his mention of running, and she eyed him closer. "You're running? Hmm..." she looked thoughtful and then nodded. "Well if you're on the lam, you could come stay with us. We don't let people be bullied when they can't protect themselves. At the very least you should stop off to get food. If not, and you keep running on that, it'll probably never heal right. I doubt you want to be a cripple forever. You've got too much spunk for that."She nudged him and grinned toothily. "Seems like you'd be quite the spitfire in your top form. Shame. Then again, if you're going to be rude and refuse my help, maybe I should just report you. A refugee who doesn't want help's MUCH more suspicious than someone fleeing tormentors. Hmm..." Perhaps she could goad him into letting her help!

Mana's eyes widened enormously as he began to realize what he'd gotten himself into. Spirits but this was a mess. Let it serve as a lesson, he decided, that he must be more cautious, even if it meant sacrificing speed. It wouldn't do to be caught because he had been careless. A voice in the back of his mind pointed out that his entire behavior was cowardly and that he deserved whatever he got, but he couldn't quite bring himself to believe the voice. He knew he was of relatively great worth. After all, he'd been elevated from the rank of follower to runner. He flicked his tail as though he could brush those thoughts away as easily as flies. This was not the time to reflect on the past, but rather to think about the future.

"I'm a cheetah. I run," he said with an off-handed shrug. "I would go mad if I couldn't run."

It took him a few seconds to realize that by his own words he had put himself in a position where he really had no good cause to refuse her help. And he still hadn't come up with a better reason for him to be running. Indeed, from the explanation he'd just given there was no reason for him to be in any sort of hurry. He should have time to let her help him, at least based on what he'd just said. He mourned his own idiocy in speaking without planning his words. He would definitely deserve it if he was captured.

With a weary sigh he tried his hand at lying again, this time keeping as close to the truth as he could, "I really am in a hurry to reach my destination. I can't afford to lose time to an extended period of healing. But you're right. I can't afford to be crippled either."