Tofauti stared at the female cheetah dubiously. She was saying all the right things in order to gain his trust, but she wasn’t his mother and so everything she said was instantly an untruth, at least until she had his trust. That in itself was going to prove to be an insurmountable task. Then again, Tofauti was dealing with Bubu, and she liked to talk.
And talk. And talk. And talk. Sure, Tofauti liked listening to her stories about ‘the one time the sun got in an argument with a baobab tree’ or the time ‘this one piece of questionable poo started crying about how lonely it was, and I stayed with that piece of poo for three days before I got tired of trying to convince it that everything was going to be okay’ – they were amazingly imaginative stories, and ones that Tofauti often relayed to his mother.
Bubu’s duty was to watch after the cubs; should an emergency arise it was up to her to deal with it. Now, Bubu wasn’t the only one watching the cubs, thankfully, but she was the only one regaling cubs with stories about poo. This meant that she had quite an avid audience at most times. She’d noticed how Tofauti skirted the edge of being sociable, and so today she’d dedicated herself to the little cub with the blue mane.
“I never heard rain talk,” Tofauti murmured, sitting a few feet away from the cheetah. A scowl threatened to mar his boyishly adorable face, and Bubu hastened to reassure him.
“That’s because rain doesn’t talk,” she said matter-of-factly, “Rain sings. It’s one of my favorites, actually, and it’s such a pity that it doesn’t rain more often, wouldn’t you agree, Tofa? It sings such pretty songs, songs you’d never heard before.”
“I never heard rain sing either Bubu,” Tofauti interjected, “And my name is not Tofa. It’s Tofauti’nafsi. Or Tofauti.” He grimaced, “I don’t like nicknames.” At least, he didn’t like nicknames that his mama didn’t give him. Or his papa. He liked his papa well enough; it made mama happy that he was around lately, though Tofauti knew that papa would leave yet again and mama would be sad yet again.
“Sorry, sorry. Tofauti.” Bubu corrected herself, eyeing him with eyes much the same color as his own. “Well, have you ever heard the stars? How about the moon?” Bubu looked smug for a moment; he probably hadn’t. He was only a cub, after all. Maybe when he was older, he would discover that he too had a gift.
“No. I never heard the stars or the moon, Bubu.” Tofauti grunted in Bubu’s direction, wanting to hear more about her experiences with the stars and the moon holding a grand conversation with one another, but not wanting to ask her to continue. If he knew Bubu, though, and he liked to think he did, he wouldn’t have to ask her about it. She’d just tell him, whether he wanted to know or not. Luckily, he wanted to know.
“I was laying under a tree,” she recalled theatrically, “and it was cold as snow.” Bubu knew how cold snow was; Sadiki had all but forced her to dip a toe and experience it. Yes, Sadiki, it was cold can we go now? “The moon was in a terrible mood, it was even shaped like a frown, and it was complaining about how the sun was so bright and outshined the moon during daytime hours. The stars, well, they were trying to convince the moon that the sun couldn’t shine when the moon was shining, because the sun had to sleep at SOME point, right? The moon was having none of it, and got all huffy. The next day, the moon wasn’t there!” Bubu’s eyes were wide as she convincingly glanced at Tofauti. “It disappeared from the sky completely! It was only the stars shining in the night sky, I swear on the Gods, Tofauti.”
The little white cub was staring at Bubu, mouth agape as he tried to understand what was going on. “It came back, right, Bubu? The moon came back?”
“Of course it came back. It had only gone on to throw a little poutfit about how it was being outshone by the sun!”
Tofauti looked relieved. He hadn’t really paid much attention to the moon and the sun, but maybe after the story he would. The only thing was, he didn’t want to come off as being strange to other cubs; they already thought he was a big baby since he loved his mama so much, and though it didn’t bother him, he realized that they were right. “Well, I’m glad that it came back,” he murmured with relief.
Bubu nodded sagely. She shifted to rest on her stomach, chin comfortably propped on her paws. She watched Tofauti patiently, glad that he was at least feeling comfortable enough to talk to her, to hold a conversation with her. He was an odd little cub; she knew that Kizuka was his mother and that the outsider lion with the red eyes and pretty markings was his father. It didn’t make a lot of sense to Bubu, since Kizuka was promised to someone else, but it really wasn’t any of Bubu’s business and so she didn’t give it much thought, really. She just knew that Kizuka loved her cubs and was a good mama, and that told a lot about a lion’s character. Heck, it told a lot about anyone’s character, really.
Tofauti was busy staring at his paws before he smacked his lips together with a soft, “I’m hungry.” Bubu grinned before rising to her feet and ruffling his blue mane with a paw. “Come on then, Tofauti. Auntie Bubu will get you something to eat. If you like, I can tell you a story about the one time the river got angry at the earth and ate some of it.”
Tofauti fought back a smile, nodding his head as he let his ‘auntie Bubu’ lead him away.
