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 Posted: Fri Apr 01, 2011 8:09 am
Badiah had been at the center of the cubs’ noise in the distance until a few moments ago. Between her own litter and her father’s other Banu’s litter, there were some twelve cubs at the den site, and usually other youngsters from nearby would join in their games. The game today was tag, but after several rounds Bad had lost interest in the game, and now the young Banu was trotting away from the game area. She was tired and didn’t much feel like wandering far, but she’d have to make reasonable distance if she didn’t want to get ‘tagged’ and ruin the game by trying to explain that she wasn’t involved. Luckily, it wasn’t long until she spotted a young Pad. It occurred to her, cleverly, that if she were in the company of a semi-adult then her siblings were likely to leave her be, and she wouldn’t have to go as far to avoid their games. Normally, the brown and black cub wasn’t much for strangers – in fact she’d had unusually bad luck with older boys and Pads – but she decided she would rather bear bad company than have to run any further. It was probably just coincidence anyway, and this one would probably be friendly. She approached the dark-colored male at a casual trot and then sat a fair distance in front of him to keep from being too intrusive. She said nothing, however. There was a rule about that, she’d learned. Banu didn’t speak to Pads until addressed, but she had intentionally misinterpreted this rule and now used to it inflict her presence in a haughty manner. While waiting for him to address her, she licked her paw and started to clean her face and unruffled her fur somewhat. She’d gotten more than a little dusty from playing. Badiah had made the conscientious decision to be good today by staying near the den, and not because her mother scolded her for wandering too far, but because she was very relaxed and she didn’t feel like getting about much in the abysmal heat of the day. She felt rather smug about making that decision without factoring in the reactions of her mother or anyone else. Cubs, especially Banu, were not afforded many decisions or any sort of power, so even this limited control was pleasing to the young lioness.
The only trouble was that there was very little interesting to do at the den, but Bad was becoming adept at entertaining herself. Rather than inventing invisible friends to play with, she crafted invisible prey on a regular basis, and now she crouched behind a rock that was too small to hide her properly from much of anything. Still, she overcame this by imagining the rock larger and her prey (an empty spot in the dirt some feet away) especially unobservant. Her claws sank into the dirt as she shifted, her rear wriggling with repressed excitement. All at once, she sprung and bounded after her invisible victim on an unnecessarily intricate path through the weeds. She actually stumbled once – something that would have lost her a meal in a real chase – but she recovered and leapt on her ‘prey’ despite this, and slashed once at the dirt to signify the kill.
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Posted: Fri Apr 01, 2011 8:28 am
 Mirsajadi would be leaving the next day. For the first time in his life, it seemed, he was able to be at ease. He still had the pressure of finding and capturing an exemplary banu to impress his father, but he knew he was going to come back to the pride to find a beybanu waiting for him. He'd just finished speaking to Vizier Faiz, asking for his daughter Arezoo to fill the role, and while it took some convincing the vizier had eventually agreed.
So now, light-hearted despite his secret having been revealed to two people in the past week, Mirsajadi made his way toward his half-brother's den to visit his favorite family member, his niece Bad. Though partway there it occurred to him that she probably wouldn't be there. He remembered how she'd mentioned that the den was growing dull and he recalled in his own youth how maddening the den had been for him. So he veered from his chosen course and began to wander more or less at random. It would work as well as anything else, he supposed.
Luck was with him and he didn't have to go for too long before he spotted his niece's striped coat just as she leapt at something unseen. He craned his neck to see if he could tell what she was pouncing, but he didn't see anything there. Something imaginary, then. He had done his share of hunting pretend prey, and probably should have spent more time at it. It would be a challenge while he was out in the rogue lands to hunt for himself.
"Is it dead?" he asked from a safe distance.
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 11:16 am
Bad glanced up, started at the intrusion for a split moment before she recognized the voice and speaker. “Uncle!” She grinned hugely and made a final sprint, this time for Mirsajadi, and pulled to a halt just in front of him. Even if she’d been the type for hugging, she was too hot for it anyway, but she did twitch in obvious excitement that had no other form of release. “Very dead,” she reported proudly. “You’re mane is coming in really pretty,” she reported factually. She was learning subliminally that girls had a habit of aesthetics, and she had heard her sisters more than once talk about the loveliness of fur, flowers, trees, anything really. Bad normally found playing a lot more interesting than talking, but Mirsajadi’s budding mane was becoming an eye catcher, and it didn’t occur to her that Pads weren’t meant to be called ‘pretty.’
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 3:31 pm
Mirsajadi appreciated that Bad wasn't the sort to go in for hugs. He wasn't either, and never had been. There was just something so unappealing about being enveloped in another lion's forelimbs and held close. Of course, he didn't welcome any kind of physical contact that he hadn't initiated, and since he never initiated physical contact except in dire need, it might as well be said that he didn't like any kind of physical contact, since he couldn't really claim to enjoy the contacts he initiated either.
"Good for you," Mirsajadi congratulated his niece. As an unconscious reward for her not hugging him, he peered curiously at the spot she'd recently finished attacking as though actually examining a kill before asking with polite interest, "What was it? I'm afraid it's a bit too mangled for me to tell at this point."
When Bad mentioned his mane Mirsajadi glanced up at it wearing an expression that was more annoyed than pleased. He wasn't annoyed at his niece for her adjective choice. He was more annoyed at his mane, which might have been coming in really pretty, but was also coming in unruly and uncontrollable, and he hated not being in control, even for small things like that. He was a control freak through and through, though not quite to the point of being obsessive compulsive.
"Thank you," he said. "Most people wouldn't have chosen 'pretty' though. Pretty is used for banu and flowers and other feminine things. Calling a male pretty is calling his maleness into question. People consider it an insult, even."
Okay, so correcting her compliment probably wasn't the kindest of actions, but it would be better for her in the long run for him to make this correction now, before someone did take offense at her misuse of the word and correct her in a far less kind manner. It wasn't particularly likely, he supposed, that anyone would strike her, but he was fond enough of his niece to want to keep her from a verbal dressing down, too, if he could manage it.
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 4:47 pm
“It was, a, um...” She’d forgotten actually, and glanced back at the spot to prod her memory. She had initially almost decided it was a buffalo, but those were supposed to be very mean, and she had been more interested in a chase than a battle. “A zebra,” she recalled, turning back and nodding proudly. She hadn’t yet seen any prey larger than a hare actually, but a Zebra seemed very worth killing. It was exciting to think that one day she would have her chance at really taking down these beasts that were even larger than her father. The fact that it took many lions to ensure a more successful hunt was an even greater testament to the challenge. Like all cubs, she at once wished she were older, bigger, and stronger. It always seemed that everything she wanted out of the world she could only get through age, and that disappointment made her less inclined to ramble on about her imaginary kill.
She smiled as Mirsajadi looked up and seemed to eye one of his hanging locks. “That’s not how I meant it,” she answered in calm assurance, not taking any particular offence to being corrected. Being a cub prone to mistakes, she was corrected often enough that it no longer phased her much to be caught in the wrong. It was a way to learn. She took on a thoughtful expression. “Handsome then? Anyway, you should keep good care of it when it finishes coming in. I saw one Pad once with a really awful one, like he never cleaned it.” Her nose crinkled in distaste. Never mind that she was often dirty herself – it never lasted very long, especially once her mother laid eyes on her. Besides, she would never let herself get so dirty that she would be gross. She may not have yet caught much interest in being ‘pretty,’ but she was Bad, and she would not let herself be ugly. “They seem like a lot of work, but I bet yours will be worth it.”
She didn’t say so because she didn’t wish to insult him to his face, but given a choice, she wouldn’t have wanted one herself. They looked like they were hot and much more trouble than they were worth.
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Posted: Mon Apr 11, 2011 7:30 am
"Of course," Mirsajadi agreed. "I didn't know we got too many of those in the pride lands. Perhaps it wandered away from its herd."
He rolled his shoulders as Bad explained herself and tried out other adjectives which were less offensive to male ears. He caught his ears twitching as she described the one unwashed pad. He had not seen this pad, but just the thought of a lion taking so little pride in their appearance was mildly infuriating to him. What kind of idiot didn't realize that he was part of a pride with a proud history, and that certain standards were demanded of all its members to uphold its reputation?
"Here's hoping," he said, glancing upward at his unruly mane once more. "Though right now I'm just hoping it decides to behave itself better once it's all grown in. I feel like an unkempt rogue right now, and I can't imagine it's a good look for me."
Whether or not it was a good look, Mirsajadi didn't like it. He was a lion who liked order, and rules and structure. Even when he had time to himself and nothing to do, he made up rules for his time and imposed them on himself so that it wouldn't be quite so unstructured. They were amusing rules sometimes, like he was only allowed to speak in multiples of five words, or something to that effect. No one else knew the games he played, or the rules which governed his life, by and large, but he knew, and that was usually enough.
"I'm leaving tomorrow," he said without preamble. There wasn't an easy way to transition from discussing manes to discussing his departure that wasn't so roundabout it would make him crazy. He enjoyed circumlocution a great deal, but sometimes he just wanted to say what he wanted to say. There were very few people, he felt comfortable doing so with, however. Bad was one of them.
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Posted: Tue Apr 12, 2011 3:56 pm
Badiah considered his appearance. She supposed tufts of mane licking at his neck could have been appealing, still catching every breeze with their thickness and begging for a grooming touch from some willing female. Maybe it would have looked that way on a less rigid male anyway, but on Mirsajadi only the rich color of it saved it from being undignified. It was still attractive, but not very suiting for what she knew of her uncle. She smiled faintly. “It’ll thicken up and do better I’m sure, once it’s too dense to flop around so much.”
Bad’s smile was dashed at his next announcement however. Her mouth parted and her bright orange eyes took on a concentrated, concerned yellow cast. She looked, in a word, somewhat hurt. “Tomorrow? So soon?”
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Posted: Wed Apr 13, 2011 10:32 am
Mirsajadi was a little surprised by the expression on Badiah's face when he delivered his news. Not that he had expected her to be jumping for joy or anything, but he had not expected her to look hurt. She knew by now that was what adolescent pesars in the pride did, he thought. At least, he would have expected that she would have known that. Was it possible that he had managed to surprise her with his announcement? If he had thought that was even a possibility, he would have couched it in different terms, and led up to it more subtly.
"They don't give us a great deal of warning either," he explained, hoping that she would accept it as an apology. "And I was forced to waste the last day or so hunting down Vizier Faiz to ask him for permission to take one of his daughters into my harem when I return."
He hoped that dropping this hint for Bad would give her something to focus on rather than her apparent disappointment in his imminent departure. He guessed he might make it into a guessing game for her, or perhaps he would just tell her. It would depend on how she reacted to what he had already said.
"I did come find you as soon as I had taken care of that matter," he said truthfully. Bad was one of his two favorite people within the pride, and he wanted to make sure he made time to bid her farewell before he left. He was actually sorry that he would miss getting to watch her grow up while he was away.
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Posted: Tue May 31, 2011 12:18 pm
Maybe Badiah should have known this was coming, considering Mirsajadi’s age, but maybe there was something surreal about the idea of leaving the pride that she thought couldn’t reach her friends and family. Or maybe she was still just as forgetful as any cub and it would take her a few years to understand that the current of time swept and changed everything. Her ear fell for a moment, but she gathered a more reserved expression. It was easy enough to rebuke herself for being short-sighted or complain that she didn’t want him to go and that it wasn’t fair. However, the cub hadn’t seen much use in whining (in a den with twelve cubs, bellyaching was largely unfruitful), and he would eventually have to come back. That was the whole point of going after all – the coming back. She eyed him for a moment, torn between disappointment at his leaving, hope for his return, and curiosity about the matter of the Vizier’s daughter. “You have to try and come back as soon as you can, okay?” she prompted with a reproachful look. She had to be certain of that first.
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Posted: Thu Jun 02, 2011 11:16 am
Mirsajadi made a face that eloquently expressed his views on the uncivilized rogue lands and said in a bone-dry tone, "I'll be back as soon as I can manage it, I'm certain. I don't think the uncultured wilderness will agree with me."
Interestingly, his suspicions regarding how he would feel about the rogue lands would prove to be dead wrong. He would actually enjoy them a great deal, and the freedom he was afforded there, and all the different things there were to feel and experience and learn, but that was all in the future for him, and while he could see the future, he didn't know it. He'd learn about that, too, during his time away from the pride, and it would be quite the revelation, since he was currently forced to believe that the illness which afflicted his mind had come from his sainted father based on the evidence he had.
"But just in case, don't grow up too fast, all right? I don't want to have to go searching from den to den, trying to figure out which of the morons in the pride convinced your father to give you to them."
Mirsajadi's disdain for the majority of his peers, and even those who were supposed to be his betters, was something he had never really bothered to hide. He knew he was more intelligent and of better blood. Even if his mother was odd and vague and his father was scary and a carrier of disease. He, himself, was the best thing they could have produced, and he usually found more flaws in others than in himself, which afforded him a certain superiority.
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2011 2:55 pm
Badiah grinned at his look of refined disapproval. Her cublike curiosity sent her exploring every day, even if it was only around the birthing den, and she was terribly curious about what the endless rogue lands were like. She knew that as a Banu she wasn’t supposed to ever leave the pride lands, but she couldn’t help but fantasize about it and imagine adventures on her own. Sometimes she even thought, with a private ferocity, that she really would leave when she was old enough, just to go see the world.
But these dreams wouldn’t live long. Her curiosity would likely never fade for the outside world, but unlike many Pads, she would never have to leave her home to find a challenge…
“I won’t!” she cried proudly. “I don’t like stupid boys, and I won’t go with any Pad I don’t like.” She seemed excessively sure about that, in the way only cubs could be, but that attitude, unlike the previous one, would not fade as she aged. “Will you tell me about what it’s like out there when you get back? And introduce me to all your Banus?” She had no proof Mirsajadi would even try and seek out more than one, but she somehow assumed he would excel at anything.
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2011 3:26 pm
Mirsajadi grinned sharply at his niece's vehemence. He approved. Although he had no right to think he deserved any say in her future, she was one of the only members of his family that he liked, and so he did actually feel entitled to make his opinions known when it came to her future. And he would be extremely displeased if it turned out that her father gave her to someone unworthy. It might actually be sufficient to make him openly oppose Anwar, which was something he had contemplated in the past but never quite dared to do.
"I'll hold you to that," he said. "I'll only tell you this once because it's not the sort of thing you're supposed to say to banu, but there are other options than accepting what your father tells you to do. I'll help you if you need it."
It was about as sentimental as he was ever likely to get, and as far as sentiment went it wasn't very mushy. In fact, it had been delivered with a sort of casualness which might have made some people doubt how deadly serious he was. It was the only way to speak sedition, as far as Mirsajadi was concerned. Later, if necessary, it could be claimed that he was joking. It could get both of them out of trouble.
"And I will definitely tell you what it's like and introduce you to my banu. You could introduce yourself to one of them, though. My beybanu is Arezoo, Vizier Faiz's daughter."
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Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2011 5:45 pm
Badiah’s ears twitched and she tilted her head slightly. She couldn’t imagine her father telling her to do something she didn’t want to do – well nothing serious. Telling her to listen to her mother or leave her siblings alone was something else. She wasn’t sure what other options Mirsajadi was talking about and she didn’t really want to ask, but she understood that her uncle would help her if it was needed. That seemed enough. “Okay,” she agreed, somewhat more meekly.
“Arezoo.” She smiled, liking the name. “I’ll find her when I can. I hope you travel safely.” She wasn’t much for hugs, but it seemed wrong to just turn and walk away for farewell, so she only hesitated for a moment before taking a sudden step and butting her head against Mirsajadi’s leg affectionately.
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Posted: Tue Jun 07, 2011 7:52 pm
"Thank you, Bad," Mirsajadi said, grinning. "I'll do my very best."
He didn't care for uninvited contact or displays of emotion, but he did care for his niece, and her spontaneous burst of affection did startle a smile out of him. She was a precocious child, but he had managed to forget the key word in that phrase: child. Children were, most of them, given to spontaneous outbursts of affection like that, even if it made the people around them uncomfortable. In some cases, Mirsajadi suspected they did it because it made the people around them uncomfortable.
He nudged her awkwardly with his nose, sort of returning the gesture, though in a way which was unlikely to knock her over or cross the line in his mind which delineated how much contact was too much. The line was different for different people, depending on Mirsajadi's tolerance for them. Mirsajadi liked Bad, but that didn't make him any more fond of contact, or any better at demonstrating his feelings. Not his real ones, anyway. He could feign emotion fairly well, if he had to, but he didn't like to do it. He preferred just not to have any.
"Take care, Bad."
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