Kay Thx
With Zsaria's medical advisory to influence her, Zilly had dragged herself out of the den and to the waters that morning. Going there felt more like a privilege most days, not an obligation, but the onslaught of visions had kept her awake for a while now. Trying to sleep through them was like trying to take a nap with an avalanche roaring outside your door. She still made an attempt, she really did, but it wasn't possible.
Yet no matter how bothersome her abilities, she never once could regret having them. Even knowing the reason she'd been given them - to serve her mother - would never be viable, wishing them away made her feel like a traitor.
She was in no mood to take her jovial morning swim, but Zsaria had stressed the importance of washing her eye out, and Zilly was in no position to refuse doctor's orders. One would think someone so here-and-now would be inclined to neglect their health, but loss of vision was an issue she took serious enough to step out of normalcy bounds.
Sure, she'd first pried the infected eye open with a rock, but only because she wanted her vision back and at the time there were no other options.
The lioness hummed to herself during her vexatious chore until the droning, close-mouthed warble became more of a mumbled song:
What? No one ever said it was a good song.
Yet no matter how bothersome her abilities, she never once could regret having them. Even knowing the reason she'd been given them - to serve her mother - would never be viable, wishing them away made her feel like a traitor.
She was in no mood to take her jovial morning swim, but Zsaria had stressed the importance of washing her eye out, and Zilly was in no position to refuse doctor's orders. One would think someone so here-and-now would be inclined to neglect their health, but loss of vision was an issue she took serious enough to step out of normalcy bounds.
Sure, she'd first pried the infected eye open with a rock, but only because she wanted her vision back and at the time there were no other options.
The lioness hummed to herself during her vexatious chore until the droning, close-mouthed warble became more of a mumbled song:
"No one liked Nym
Uss D'mzil was always better
This is really boring
Maybe I'll just go back"
Uss D'mzil was always better
This is really boring
Maybe I'll just go back"
What? No one ever said it was a good song.
Moonrazor
Everything kind of sucked about being a Thrall. Ferawyn had yet to get over the fact that he had managed to get himself enslaved in a pride of fight-happy lunatics, much less the fact that he was now more like property than anything. He didn’t suppose he would ever figure it out—what made lions think that they had the right to do anything like it—but it was working for them, whatever it was, and that made them right, he guessed. At least in their minds. It would never seem anything less than absurd for the white lion.
But he was just a Thrall. What could he do about it?
Well, escape, for one. He had been plotting his rather triumphant and elaborate escape for many days now, but the last time he had actually attempted to put his plan into motion, it had failed. He hadn’t quite counted on the kindness that Zsaria had showed him unexpectedly, and he had always had a soft spot for lionesses, so it was hardly a surprise that that was all it had taken to convince him to postpone his epic plan. So Ferawyn had gone back to recalibrate his steps. First and foremost, he wouldn’t let anyone near enough to hold a genuine conversation. He would sing them to sleep from afar (if that was, in fact, a viable option) and then he would hightail out of the pride’s lands.
And so, he sang.
Gotta do something indeed.
But he was just a Thrall. What could he do about it?
Well, escape, for one. He had been plotting his rather triumphant and elaborate escape for many days now, but the last time he had actually attempted to put his plan into motion, it had failed. He hadn’t quite counted on the kindness that Zsaria had showed him unexpectedly, and he had always had a soft spot for lionesses, so it was hardly a surprise that that was all it had taken to convince him to postpone his epic plan. So Ferawyn had gone back to recalibrate his steps. First and foremost, he wouldn’t let anyone near enough to hold a genuine conversation. He would sing them to sleep from afar (if that was, in fact, a viable option) and then he would hightail out of the pride’s lands.
And so, he sang.
”So she woke up,
Woke up from where she was,
Lying still, saying I have
Gotta do something… about where we’re going…”
Woke up from where she was,
Lying still, saying I have
Gotta do something… about where we’re going…”
Gotta do something indeed.
Kay Thx
Zilly had hated loud noises since she was a cub. Crowds, shouting, crashes and everything in between. Life didn't allow her the luxury of living in silence and so she'd been forced to fall in line with the ways of the world, albeit complaining every other step in the grand march. If she could only learn time didn't favor her either, her life and that of Taraxa - and Gunnar, too, probably - would be made easier.
Some sounds she had come to accept, no matter the volume. Araiya was the name of the lion that she'd first heard singing back in the nowhere lands, the place where mangy rogues lived. She'd been so fascinated by the pleasant rhythm of his voice that everything around them had just shut off. She could remember his name and what they had said, same as she could recall the words Gunnar had told her last she'd really taken the time to talk to him.
...If you wanted to call that incident a 'talk'.
Her advancement toward the voice was sly and mute. Zilly was genuinely what she presented herself as, but that was at times merely a shadow that somehow formed in the dark. Xi was her mother - something she didn't waste any time informing everyone - and her father was Chaos itself. Their daughter was in possession of an eclipsed mania. She had the untapped potential to be sneaky as they came.
That must have been why she could creep up on most of them like she did.
What she found surprised her.
"Bright," she observed. Loudly.
He was. The pure white, the obnoxious blue... She'd thought Taraxa was luminous, but compared to this? He might as well of had her fur compared to this.
Some sounds she had come to accept, no matter the volume. Araiya was the name of the lion that she'd first heard singing back in the nowhere lands, the place where mangy rogues lived. She'd been so fascinated by the pleasant rhythm of his voice that everything around them had just shut off. She could remember his name and what they had said, same as she could recall the words Gunnar had told her last she'd really taken the time to talk to him.
...If you wanted to call that incident a 'talk'.
Her advancement toward the voice was sly and mute. Zilly was genuinely what she presented herself as, but that was at times merely a shadow that somehow formed in the dark. Xi was her mother - something she didn't waste any time informing everyone - and her father was Chaos itself. Their daughter was in possession of an eclipsed mania. She had the untapped potential to be sneaky as they came.
That must have been why she could creep up on most of them like she did.
What she found surprised her.
"Bright," she observed. Loudly.
He was. The pure white, the obnoxious blue... She'd thought Taraxa was luminous, but compared to this? He might as well of had her fur compared to this.
Moonrazor
He had never been the most… attentive of lions to begin with. That kind of explained how he had ended up in this mess anyway. If he had been paying more attention to what Gunnar had been doing, he liked to imagine that he would have realized that it wasn’t a game much earlier on, and perhaps then he could have fled. But that was beside the point.
What was the point was that, before he knew what had happened, he had startled and almost leapt into the air mid-verse as the sudden sound of a lioness’ voice—bright—intruded into his song.
CRAP. What was this? The sneakiness that he hadn’t anticipated. The lioness suddenly appearing beside him. Suddenly talking and, subsequently, scaring the living daylights out of him. Wasn’t it bad enough that he was nervous from trying to escape?
Ferawyn cleared his throat somewhat anxiously, though he certainly hoped she wouldn’t pick up on that. “Bright?” He echoed, forgetting for a second that she could probably have knocked him upside the head for insolence or something like that.
Kay Thx
The worst Zilly did to him was look like she thought he were stupid.
"You're bright," the lioness stated, very matter-of-fact.
Thralls were slaves, and slaves were an unseasoned notion to this peculiar individual. Someone familiar with her background would have given her the same look she'd given him if she were to say that; however, someone really savvy about it would understand perfectly.
Xi practically had an army of hyena at her beckon call, but she treated them well and they returned the favor. When she had passed Nanako onto her daughter, said daughter - Uss D'mzil herself - couldn't fathom barking orders at her as though she were a drudge and nothing more.
Zilly couldn't imagine anyone just rolling over and letting someone tell them what to do when they didn't want to over and over and over again either. She wasn't a hypocrite for it; she had wanted to do what Xi asked of her. She wanted to help her new pride in the same way.
The topic of Thralls had come up in passing, but she still assumed every lion was a Reaver.
"I would hate to be you," she said.
Nothing to do with his sorry rank. Hunting was what crossed her mind. Could he really stalk a zebra out in the fields sticking out with that mane of his?
"You're bright," the lioness stated, very matter-of-fact.
Thralls were slaves, and slaves were an unseasoned notion to this peculiar individual. Someone familiar with her background would have given her the same look she'd given him if she were to say that; however, someone really savvy about it would understand perfectly.
Xi practically had an army of hyena at her beckon call, but she treated them well and they returned the favor. When she had passed Nanako onto her daughter, said daughter - Uss D'mzil herself - couldn't fathom barking orders at her as though she were a drudge and nothing more.
Zilly couldn't imagine anyone just rolling over and letting someone tell them what to do when they didn't want to over and over and over again either. She wasn't a hypocrite for it; she had wanted to do what Xi asked of her. She wanted to help her new pride in the same way.
The topic of Thralls had come up in passing, but she still assumed every lion was a Reaver.
"I would hate to be you," she said.
Nothing to do with his sorry rank. Hunting was what crossed her mind. Could he really stalk a zebra out in the fields sticking out with that mane of his?
Moonrazor
“Oh.” He answered, temporarily at a loss for words. There wasn’t much he could think of to say; he was, indeed bright, and apart from attracting lionesses, his coloring had never been a particularly favored attribute of his. Most of the time, he exchanged his songs for a free meal. Had used to, anyway. Everything was kind of different now.
It suddenly occurred to the bright lion that if his plans were to fail and he ended up stuck here, forever, he could still perhaps make use of his voice in exchange for a better run with the Stormborn. After all, Zsaria had seemed to enjoy his singing, and he could only imagine that others would too.
Ferawyn shot the lioness a sidelong, curious glance. Well, of course she would hate to be him. Being a slave kind of sucked, to put it mildly. The fact that she might be referring to something else never quite crossed his mind, but he had to admit, there was something a little bit strange about her.
For a second, he was tempted to respond with something along the lines of “You’re dark” but that was a brand of sarcasm that he had never quite employed, even when he had been happy and free.
“Well, it’s not fun,” he admitted. Although if he had to be truthful, the day Gunnar had beat him and captured him had been probably the worst, and from there it had.. improved, even if not drastically.
Kay Thx
"But I'd like having your voice."
Not that anything was wrong with hers; Zilly sounded girlish and peppy, sang with an praiseworthy key and... and maybe it wasn't the best set of vocal cords to have in a fierce pride. Not this one or the one she had come from.
That voice she'd approved of was crafted for a male, but that didn't mean much to her. She already had a so-called 'boy name'. What harm would it do to have their voice? The big supporter of gender segregation wasn't voices or names. Females could have cubs and males couldn't. Simple as that.
And, yes, she did know where babies came from; in fact, she had learned earlier than most on her first hunt as a mere cub where the zebra they'd slaughtered had been heavily pregnant. The sight of her baby... oozing - yes, oozing was a good word for it - all over the grasses had deeply disturbed the lioness who was only a baby herself at the time.
That curse didn't even separate her from the more masculine gender, though, because she vowed to never allow herself to be in such a state. Those squirmy, oozing little things... she didn't want them. Ever.
An anxious little wiggle accompanied her request. "Can you sing again? I like it."
Not that anything was wrong with hers; Zilly sounded girlish and peppy, sang with an praiseworthy key and... and maybe it wasn't the best set of vocal cords to have in a fierce pride. Not this one or the one she had come from.
That voice she'd approved of was crafted for a male, but that didn't mean much to her. She already had a so-called 'boy name'. What harm would it do to have their voice? The big supporter of gender segregation wasn't voices or names. Females could have cubs and males couldn't. Simple as that.
And, yes, she did know where babies came from; in fact, she had learned earlier than most on her first hunt as a mere cub where the zebra they'd slaughtered had been heavily pregnant. The sight of her baby... oozing - yes, oozing was a good word for it - all over the grasses had deeply disturbed the lioness who was only a baby herself at the time.
That curse didn't even separate her from the more masculine gender, though, because she vowed to never allow herself to be in such a state. Those squirmy, oozing little things... she didn't want them. Ever.
An anxious little wiggle accompanied her request. "Can you sing again? I like it."
Moonrazor
“Thank you,” he said, caught off-guard once again by the compliment. He could almost get used to this… and she didn’t act much like the archetypal Stormborn either. At least not according to the idea that Ferawyn had in his head. But then, he judged all of the lions here based on his first impression—Gunnar—and he didn’t suppose that was an altogether fair way to think of them all.
But it was easier said than done, changing his opinion, and besides, it was better to be pleasantly surprised by unexpected kindness than it was to be shocked by some unwarranted cruelty. Being a pessimist had never specifically been his thing, but perhaps it was time to try being one. It was just a survival mechanism, after all.
“The song?” He said, though… okay, of course she was talking about the song. Still, he hadn’t exactly been expecting an encore, and it took his mind a moment to realize what was happening.
“Uh, of course, it’s…” He picked up where he had stopped.
But it was easier said than done, changing his opinion, and besides, it was better to be pleasantly surprised by unexpected kindness than it was to be shocked by some unwarranted cruelty. Being a pessimist had never specifically been his thing, but perhaps it was time to try being one. It was just a survival mechanism, after all.
“The song?” He said, though… okay, of course she was talking about the song. Still, he hadn’t exactly been expecting an encore, and it took his mind a moment to realize what was happening.
“Uh, of course, it’s…” He picked up where he had stopped.
“You got to cry without weeping,
Talk without speaking,
Scream without raising your voice…
You know I took the poison,
From the poison stream
Then I floated… out of here.
Singing… ha la la la de day
Ha la la la de day
Ah la la de day…”
Talk without speaking,
Scream without raising your voice…
You know I took the poison,
From the poison stream
Then I floated… out of here.
Singing… ha la la la de day
Ha la la la de day
Ah la la de day…”
Kay Thx
Zilly was positively enamored by his voice. The song? Not so much. The words were bizarre and made no sense; she understood when something was supposed to be 'deep' or 'more than meets the eye'. What she couldn't understand was why everyone didn't call bullshit on it and just admit it made no sense, would never make sense and anyone who pretended it did was lying.
But she would have loved a world where people could scream without screaming.
"That's stupid. You should sing something less stupid. It's a waste this way."
Forthright, thy name is Zilly. She sounded grossly offended with his song choice, like he'd chosen it as a means of personal insult.
But she would have loved a world where people could scream without screaming.
"That's stupid. You should sing something less stupid. It's a waste this way."
Forthright, thy name is Zilly. She sounded grossly offended with his song choice, like he'd chosen it as a means of personal insult.
Moonrazor
Stupid? Well. His brain leaped to defend the song, until he realized that… maybe she had a point. It was strange, and it was almost like asking him to sing without singing. Well, how was he supposed to do that? Or escape without escaping.
“Something less stupid,” he echoed, pondering the songs he had learned how to sing, or had even made up along the way. Like the one she had been singing before she’d crept up on him. Of course he had noticed it. Music was like air to him, an odd sort of sustenance that made him feel as if everything was alright and always would be alright, as long as there was music to keep him from going insane.
Something less strange. He shuffled through his mind, and settled on another. Maybe this one, she would enjoy more. And if she didn’t, well. A small smile crossed his face. He could always sing another song.
“Something less stupid,” he echoed, pondering the songs he had learned how to sing, or had even made up along the way. Like the one she had been singing before she’d crept up on him. Of course he had noticed it. Music was like air to him, an odd sort of sustenance that made him feel as if everything was alright and always would be alright, as long as there was music to keep him from going insane.
Something less strange. He shuffled through his mind, and settled on another. Maybe this one, she would enjoy more. And if she didn’t, well. A small smile crossed his face. He could always sing another song.
“I find it very, very easy to be true
I find myself alone when each day is through
Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you
Because you're mine, I walk the line
As sure as night is dark and day is light
I keep you on my mind both day and night
And happiness I've known proves that it's right
Because you're mine, I walk the line”
I find myself alone when each day is through
Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you
Because you're mine, I walk the line
As sure as night is dark and day is light
I keep you on my mind both day and night
And happiness I've known proves that it's right
Because you're mine, I walk the line”
Kay Thx
Invisible lines were a step up from crying without tears or whatever nonsense he'd been prattling on about earlier, but it was still-
"Stupid," said Zilly.
She sighed, stared at him. What a shame she'd pledged herself to the idea of never being a mother; her I'm-so-disappointed-in-you-son look was already near flawless. Suspicion could easily be derived from this perfection. An astute someone could wonder if she mirrored the look, not invented it. Children were doomed to become their parents, so they say.
"What's your name?"
"Stupid," said Zilly.
She sighed, stared at him. What a shame she'd pledged herself to the idea of never being a mother; her I'm-so-disappointed-in-you-son look was already near flawless. Suspicion could easily be derived from this perfection. An astute someone could wonder if she mirrored the look, not invented it. Children were doomed to become their parents, so they say.
"What's your name?"
Moonrazor
It seemed the lioness was difficult to please. He caught her gaze, and indeed, the look was almost perfect; almost instantly, he felt flattened by the expression she had on her face. It brought all sorts of memories flooding back from his childhood, memories of his mother shooting him that exact look when he hit the wrong pitch in a difficult song or when he stumbled on some lyrics. He could have sworn it was the same.
And although he knew that it couldn’t possibly be true, he felt for all the world as if he had let someone down. Guilt, as undeserved or unwarranted it might have been, came flooding through the white lion, and his ears pressed back momentarily into his brilliant blue mane.
He may as well have been pouting.
And all of a sudden, he was reminded of the exact reason that lionesses were to be feared and respected. They seemed to know exactly how to manipulate him, whether consciously or not—first, Zsaria had managed to change his mind about escaping without so much as trying to stop him, and now here he was, feeling guilty about something he was so sure he hadn’t done!
“Ferawyn,” He answered, feeling his ears untuck themselves from his mane. Oh good, she was still talking to him. Or- no, not good! Or bad. It was neither. He absolutely refused to get too invested in her actions. Except that his mother had wielded the Silent Treatment with the skill of a lion well-versed in the ways of torture, and of course, to baby Ferawyn, his mother ignoring him had been the most terrible thing in the world. It had been bad enough living it the first time. He didn’t suppose he needed to go through it again.
And although he knew that it couldn’t possibly be true, he felt for all the world as if he had let someone down. Guilt, as undeserved or unwarranted it might have been, came flooding through the white lion, and his ears pressed back momentarily into his brilliant blue mane.
He may as well have been pouting.
And all of a sudden, he was reminded of the exact reason that lionesses were to be feared and respected. They seemed to know exactly how to manipulate him, whether consciously or not—first, Zsaria had managed to change his mind about escaping without so much as trying to stop him, and now here he was, feeling guilty about something he was so sure he hadn’t done!
“Ferawyn,” He answered, feeling his ears untuck themselves from his mane. Oh good, she was still talking to him. Or- no, not good! Or bad. It was neither. He absolutely refused to get too invested in her actions. Except that his mother had wielded the Silent Treatment with the skill of a lion well-versed in the ways of torture, and of course, to baby Ferawyn, his mother ignoring him had been the most terrible thing in the world. It had been bad enough living it the first time. He didn’t suppose he needed to go through it again.
Kay Thx
Zilly wielded a matching weapon with differing skill; she couldn't pull off the cold shoulder if someone had frozen her in a block of ice. With him looking like that - making a face she had mastered after her own mother's rejection time and again - she would have had no chance at all.
This lion - she liked this lion. Liked him in a way a child would admire a new pet. They'd gush over them, smother them with attention and eventually get bored and force someone else to feed it.
Right now, she was content to feed Ferawyn's need for attention on her own.
"You should sing about things that make sense. Like a tree or a bird. Something everyone can understand," Zilly explained. "Sing about something that is real or that actually happened."
This lion - she liked this lion. Liked him in a way a child would admire a new pet. They'd gush over them, smother them with attention and eventually get bored and force someone else to feed it.
Right now, she was content to feed Ferawyn's need for attention on her own.
"You should sing about things that make sense. Like a tree or a bird. Something everyone can understand," Zilly explained. "Sing about something that is real or that actually happened."
Moonrazor
With that, the perfect song popped into his head.
He felt rather like a cub again, seeking the approval of an authority above his own. All he had ever really wanted to do, after all, was to sing and to see people smile at the sound of his songs. Ferawyn had been born to be an entertainer, to spread at least some semblance of joy to the world through his music, and when that happened, it was like magic.
And hey, she wanted trees, and birds.
“Like this one, then,” he said, half in question and half simply stating the facts.
He felt rather like a cub again, seeking the approval of an authority above his own. All he had ever really wanted to do, after all, was to sing and to see people smile at the sound of his songs. Ferawyn had been born to be an entertainer, to spread at least some semblance of joy to the world through his music, and when that happened, it was like magic.
And hey, she wanted trees, and birds.
“Like this one, then,” he said, half in question and half simply stating the facts.
"When the leaves start falling from the trees
When the birds start flirting with the bees
When the wind starts blowing from the East to the West
Maybe you'll be the one that I like best”
When the birds start flirting with the bees
When the wind starts blowing from the East to the West
Maybe you'll be the one that I like best”
Kay Thx
Hopeless. Just hopeless.
Zilly hung her head and slumped her shoulders, frustrated and embarrassed. For him. On his behalf. She had never been one to submit to barren resolutions; she wouldn't be in the pride if she were. Nym would have had an easier time with a sister who just accepted him her superior if she were. Stupid, dead b*****d.
--May he rest in peace.
"That's not right either. Whatever way the wind is blowing doesn't have anything to do with you liking me." Her paw rose and shoved right in his face, right over his mouth, and she warned him, "Don't try to explain it. It's stupid. Make some sense."
Poor guy. She was so difficult.
Zilly hung her head and slumped her shoulders, frustrated and embarrassed. For him. On his behalf. She had never been one to submit to barren resolutions; she wouldn't be in the pride if she were. Nym would have had an easier time with a sister who just accepted him her superior if she were. Stupid, dead b*****d.
--May he rest in peace.
"That's not right either. Whatever way the wind is blowing doesn't have anything to do with you liking me." Her paw rose and shoved right in his face, right over his mouth, and she warned him, "Don't try to explain it. It's stupid. Make some sense."
Poor guy. She was so difficult.
Moonrazor
Clearly, whatever flattery had been cleverly hidden into the lyrics hadn’t registered with the lioness. Oh well, it was worth a try, he supposed. And it had been more about the trees and the bees anyway. And before he knew what was happening, her paw and made its way to his face and effectively barricaded any words he might have been preparing in.
Well, that put an end to any clever retort he might have managed to come up with. Not that he had ever really been the witty type.
He carefully extracted himself from her paw-muzzle, and stood wracking his brains for a song that might-might-make sense. To be honest, he was beginning to think that her idea of making sense was a little… well, abstract. Although that might just have been his incomprehension.
“Well, how about…” He tried to pick his next words carefully. He was getting a little desperate too.
Well, that put an end to any clever retort he might have managed to come up with. Not that he had ever really been the witty type.
He carefully extracted himself from her paw-muzzle, and stood wracking his brains for a song that might-might-make sense. To be honest, he was beginning to think that her idea of making sense was a little… well, abstract. Although that might just have been his incomprehension.
“Well, how about…” He tried to pick his next words carefully. He was getting a little desperate too.
“Clouds start forming I can't complain
'Cause I think we might be in need of some rain
When it starts pouring
Don't hide away without me”
'Cause I think we might be in need of some rain
When it starts pouring
Don't hide away without me”
Kay Thx
'Sense' to Zilly was a clearly defined, absolute term. Things that were there in front of them, going on around them 'made sense'. She wanted him to sing about how the sky was blue or how a hawk had just flown over them. Lyrics worthy of the Gods, no, but it's what she wanted; they were what she expected.
And he came up short. Too bad.
Zilly never could think when things made her frustrated. By no coincidence, she could think of nothing that was more effective than trying to be poetic. "No, that's not right," and she was becoming irritated with the delay in her desired song. "I need to think about this, but I'm going to find you again and we're going to get this right."
Her motives were was as guileless as her taste in music
And he came up short. Too bad.
Zilly never could think when things made her frustrated. By no coincidence, she could think of nothing that was more effective than trying to be poetic. "No, that's not right," and she was becoming irritated with the delay in her desired song. "I need to think about this, but I'm going to find you again and we're going to get this right."
Her motives were was as guileless as her taste in music
Moonrazor
… So. He supposed that meant he wasn’t escaping today.
Sometimes, he had to curse his soft spot for lionesses. It was twice now that they had managed to foil his plans, and he didn’t imagine that either of them had done so wittingly. Unless, of course, they had come up with some elaborate trick to keep him tied down to this dreadful place, but how was he supposed to know if that was really true?
But somehow, the idea of finding that perfect song—the mere mention of it, in fact—was enough to make him feel some semblance of the excitement he had used to feel. You know, back when he was free. And it didn’t seem like he was going to get back to that any time soon, so he would take whatever he could get.
“Alright then,” he said, almost cheerfully. In part because her declaration meant that he could stop wracking his brains for suitable lyrics. He had never done very well under pressure. “I’ll be waiting. What’s your name?” He added, almost as an afterthought. Right, names. It might come in handy to know who she was.
Sometimes, he had to curse his soft spot for lionesses. It was twice now that they had managed to foil his plans, and he didn’t imagine that either of them had done so wittingly. Unless, of course, they had come up with some elaborate trick to keep him tied down to this dreadful place, but how was he supposed to know if that was really true?
But somehow, the idea of finding that perfect song—the mere mention of it, in fact—was enough to make him feel some semblance of the excitement he had used to feel. You know, back when he was free. And it didn’t seem like he was going to get back to that any time soon, so he would take whatever he could get.
“Alright then,” he said, almost cheerfully. In part because her declaration meant that he could stop wracking his brains for suitable lyrics. He had never done very well under pressure. “I’ll be waiting. What’s your name?” He added, almost as an afterthought. Right, names. It might come in handy to know who she was.
Kay Thx
"I’ll be waiting."
Zilly was so taken aback she'd nearly missed his question and, strangely, had to wrack her brain a second to think of the answer. Being flustered made her annoyed. She couldn't get her mind working right when she was annoyed!
Someone waiting for her was just... all kinds of weird. It didn't matter if it was for something this small. She had never, ever had anyone wait for her. Wait on her, of course, but never for her.
Xi was not out there anxiously awaiting her arrival. Never had been. Taraxa wasn't either, was he? She could vanish forever and no one would have cared. But not anymore. Someone was waiting for her now.
"Uss D'mzil," the ecstatic lioness would answer. Just before she left, she reminded him happily, "I'll see you again tomorrow."
So badly she wanted to return to him that same day, but she couldn't help relish the feeling of having someone wait for her.
Zilly was so taken aback she'd nearly missed his question and, strangely, had to wrack her brain a second to think of the answer. Being flustered made her annoyed. She couldn't get her mind working right when she was annoyed!
Someone waiting for her was just... all kinds of weird. It didn't matter if it was for something this small. She had never, ever had anyone wait for her. Wait on her, of course, but never for her.
Xi was not out there anxiously awaiting her arrival. Never had been. Taraxa wasn't either, was he? She could vanish forever and no one would have cared. But not anymore. Someone was waiting for her now.
"Uss D'mzil," the ecstatic lioness would answer. Just before she left, she reminded him happily, "I'll see you again tomorrow."
So badly she wanted to return to him that same day, but she couldn't help relish the feeling of having someone wait for her.
