Ghasia watched her new friend with an amused expression on her face. She was perched on a rock, so that she was out of the way of the blind healer who was scurrying around like a mad ant, plucking up this flower and this leaf, and this herb, and digging up this root. For what? Ghasia wasn't actually sure, but it was sure amusing to watch.
“What's this for again?” She prompted the female as the silence stretched between them. The cheetah was a social creature, which was why she had sought out the lady before her in the first place, rather then just sitting at home being bored. Of course, it took a lot to bore Ghasia, but when she did become so inclined, it was usually due to a lack of movement. She needed movement and energy to keep happy. She could be content in one place though, with some effort.
Kibaazi, the blind healer, sneezed as the dirt she had been digging in flicked up and into her nose. The root of the plant was barely exposed but the dirt was hard and she was digging blindly. “For a tonic,” she told the cheetah who had announced not long ago that they were friend and that she was going to follow Kibaazi around until she got bored. The lioness didn't mind so much, because at least she had a pair of eyes following and watching her back.
Plus, the cheetah appeared rather harmless too, and Kibaazi wasn't exactly an anti-social lioness.
“For what?” Ghasia prompted, when Kibaazi offered no further information other then 'a tonic'.
Kibaazi heaved a sigh, as if the questions were bothering her, but they weren't really. “To cure an ailment.” She was teasing now, knowing the vague answers were frustrating the cheetah.
“But what ailment?” Ghasia again prompted, her frustration now sounding in her voice.
Kibaazi withheld a chuckle, but it turned into a cry of delight as the root finally pulled free of the ground and, though she stumbled back a little, she had the final piece of tonic puzzle! Yes, she cheered inwardly, shaking any dirt free of the root, though some would still cling to it. It didn't matter so much if there was some, but whole clumps would ruin both the taste and the effect of her tonic.
Caught up in her thoughts, she ignored the cheetah and carried the root over to where she had set the half shell of one of the harder fruits. It was small, but it served as a good bowl, since the tonic didn't need quantity to work, as it had so much goodness in the small amount.
“Can I help?” Ghasia asked, bouncing over to the female and startling her.
“Uh,” Kibaazi hesitated, before pushing the root over towards the cheetah. “Alright. Cut that up, thinly, and place it into the shell for me.”
While the cheetah was doing that, Kibaazi began to chew some of the herbs to make a paste, pulling a face at the taste. She really hated this part, but chewing ground it up better then cutting with her claws, and she had no baboons around to offer to crush the herbs with rocks for her, so she had to chew.
It would help if they tasted better, Kibaazi thought, depositing the paste into the shell with a 'bleh' noise.
Ghasia giggled at the female, shaking her head in wry amusement at the funny lioness. “Not tastey?” She asked as she cut up the root, giggling further at the poignant shake of the head she received in turn. She enjoyed spending time with the healer, she realised. It was fun and she was doing something constructive. Perhaps she should become a healer? She wondered to herself, but quickly dispelled the idea. Blood. That was not something the cheetah could cope well with. Not coming from a living feline, at least. From prey beasts, it meant life. From felines, it meant death – in it's harshest form. Every time she saw an injured cub, or an injured female, or an injured male, she would think of people she cared about, and then she would be a useless healer.
“How do you do it?” Ghasia asked suddenly.
“Do what?” Kibaazi rolled her blind eyes at the cheetah, amused at the random question. She was crushing a flower between her paw pads, careful to do so gently.
“Heal.”
It was a common question for Kibaazi, so she barely batted an eye at it. “It's in my blood,” she told the cheetah. “It's who I am. How do you run?” She returned the odd question.
“I'm a cheetah. All cheetah's run,” Ghasia said dryly.
“I am a healer,” Kibaazi said simply. “So I heal.”
Ghasia nodded, pushing the cut up herb into the shell. “Finished,” she told the lioness, watching in fascination as the last ingredient, the pressed flower, was placed into the shell.
There was no explosion of colour, no spark of magic. It was just...a mix of herbs, which looked all rather disgusting. Ghasia pulled a face, glad that the healer could not see her do so. She didn't want to insult her new friend.
“What's it for?” Ghasia prompted, once more. She hoped she would receive an answer this time, as the mix was finished at last.
“It's a tonic,” Kibaazi retorted, before laughing and continuing, “for fertility.”
Ghasia blanched. “That's it?”
“That's it? Lots of people have trouble with concieving cubs,” Kibaazi pointed out. “It's a serious condition.” A playful spark came to her eyes as she nudged her 'friend'. “Do you want to try some?”
Ghasia shook her head, before realising her friend would not see it. “No!” She exclaimed instead, laughing at what she knew – hoped ?- was a joke. “I'm fine! Just...fine!”
Kibaazi laughed. “Relax, Ghasia. I was just teasing. This is for a lioness I met, she wanted help to have a bigger litter this time.” She paused. “Would you...like to come with me to deliver it? Seeing as you helped make it?”
Ghasia perked up, her eyes going wide. “Yes!” She agreed readily. “Please!” She had made something, she realised, beaming. She had actually created something. With Kibaazi's help, of course, but still. It was something new from something old.
“Want me to carry it?” Ghasia asked, when she realised that Kibaazi would need to walk blindly with their precious cargo.
“Sure,” Kibaazi nodded, before that playful spark returned. “But try not to get any in your mouth, or you'll be having a litter of eight before you know it!”
Eight. Eight...EIGHT? Ghasia blanched. “Don't joke about that, Kibaazi!” She groaned, carefully trying to life the shell without getting any of the mix near her mouth. “Kibaazi!” She called out, as the blind lioness walked off, giggling to herself. “Kibaazi! Wait! I've changed my mind! YOU carry it! KIBAAZI?”
(Word Count: 1,149 )
