“Oh you’re being stupid- there’s no way some stupid bird dances better than me!” Huffed Borachio as he moved through the lands with his trusted bird companion. The little avian looked a little flustered sitting there on the lion’s head, his feathers ruffled like the had been blown in a strong wind. The expression he wore match his disheveled look- it was clearly flustered.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” the bird declared, “no lion could ever be as elegant as a bird! Our feathers give us a graceful look no matter what we’re doing!” He let out a yelp at that, suddenly thrust from the lion’s head as the male came to an abrupt stop. Flailing to the ground, the feathered creature ranted and raged as he fought his way through his wings to get himself back onto his talons. Angry, he glared up at a clearly pleased Borachio.
“What was that for?!” the bird demanded.
“I was just checking to see how graceful you would look falling off my head- you didn’t look that elegant to me, even with those wings.” Borachio watched with a smile as his small companion charged forward, not taking him seriously until a sharp beak found on of his toes. Letting out a yowl of his own, he jumped back, raising the now sore foot off the ground.
“That wasn’t very nice!” he growled, “I was only proving a point- you’re not elegant! I’m a much better dancer than you could ever hope to be, and I’m going to prove it to the other players soon enough.”
“They’ll be too busy watching me to give you the time of day,” the bird informed him, “just because I’m small doesn’t make me any less important!”
“No, Philostrate, but being less talented sure does!”
“What are you two doing?” Asked another voice suddenly from behind, causing the both of them to jump as they spun around to see who had come into their conversation. They were both surprised to see Fetina sitting there, looking at them with a raised brow. With the way she was seated, so comfortable against the ground, it looked as though she had been there a long time. For Philostrate, it was an honor to get to speak with one of the king’s more trusted servants. For Borachio, though, it was like seeing a sister. After all, Fetina and her brother had been there while he’d been growing up, so the two were very close. Family, almost.
Which made it perfectly okay for him to speak to her without an ounce of respect in his voice.
“We were trying to decide which one of us is the better dancer,” he informed the female, “do you think that I’m better, or Philostrate? Be honest, now. Nevermind the fact that I’m, like, almost your brother and would love you forever if you happened to think I was the better dancer.”
“Don’t sway her vote!”
“I don’t have a vote!” interrupted the female quickly, sensing the brewing confrontation coming to rest on her shoulders, “I was just passing through when I saw you two acting like idiots. What would your father think if he caught you acting like this, Borachio? Such a refined, well behaved king!”
“Oh, stop kissing his paws, Fetina, no one’s watching,” huffed Borachio quickly, rolling his eyes, “Dad’s as weird as I am, you know it. How many times did he play weird games with us when we were little and how many times did you say that you loved that about him? You don’t have to pretend around us- we don’t care how much you love the king and want him to notice you.” He knew she was striking a nerve, but there was nothing he could do about it- she was annoyingly constant in saying whatever she felt she needed to say to stay in the favor of the kind. She, however, didn’t seem to cross with him, offering only a grunt in response before turning her eyes on Philostrate.
“You know, I think you’re a mighty fine dancer,” she told her hotly.
“No no, you can’t just do that! You have to watch us dance before you make a decision!” Protested Borachio, if only because he didn’t want to lose, “we’ll both show you our moves and THEN you can pick, okay?”
“Ugh, fine, I guess,” relented the female, “if it means you’ll shut up for five minutes.”
“Possibly even six,” Philostrate offered eagerly, “we promise!”
Nodding, Fetina remained in her seat as the two boys set about readying for their little show. Neither seemed to mind that other members of the pride were wandering over to watch as they prepared and stretched- that was what they were supposed to do. Entertain the pride. They fought over who would go first, Philostrate ultimately winning. So Borachio hummed a song as the bird started his dance.
Perhaps the most awkward thing Fetina had ever seen in her life. The bird spread his wings, spinning in circles as he lifted his tail feathers into the air. The female imagined it was some kind of mating dance for birds- it certainly didn’t look like anything a lion would find appealing. It did, however, elicit a lot of laughter from the other lions around her, even if the humor was lost on her, specifically. All she could see was a weird creature flapping about like he was having a heart attack. Even that was a bit generous in describing exactly what the bird was doing. Eventually, the torture ended, and Borachio was able to take the ‘stage’.
His dance wasn’t much better than the bird’s, though he seemed to be having just as much fun. He pulled himself onto his back paws, letting his front paws serve to balance him as he stumbled around in awkward circles, bouncing his head about like his spin had suddenly become a spring. The beat Philostrate was tweeting, and the dance Borachio was performing, seemed to have nothing in common, the lion bounding around in whatever way he pleased. Again, Fetina didn’t see the point, but those around her were quite taken by the whole thing. Sighing softly, she counted the seconds until the dance came to a close. Once they had both finished, the lions around them laughed and cheered, to which the performers responded to with the obligatory bow. How they felt they could take praise for what they had just done was beyond Fetina, who remained silent until the crowd started to disperse.
“Well?” panted Borachio, still worn from his little diddy, “what did you think? Who wins?”
“I…. don’t think either of you can dance,” Fetina replied in a typical honesty that ripped through the heart and soul of the person she was speaking to. She tilted her head to the side, surprised to see both actor’s faces fall like rain from the sky. Were they surprised to know they didn’t have talent?
“Um… I didn’t mean… well… you both suck,” she continued painfully, appearing to hold no regard for their feelings, “you both need a lot more practice before I could even attempt to call either one of you ‘better’. Right now, it would be choosing who is better at pooping.”
“Fetina…. You are so honest,” Borachio said faintly, stunned, “I don’t know whether or not I’m supposed to find it endearing or really annoying. Either way… thank you for telling us how you really feel.”
“Even if you are being extra harsh,” added Philostrate faintly, “I think it’s your fault, Borachio. I would have danced better if you hadn’t dropped me off your head!”
Borachio was quick to turn his sights on the offending bird, pointing a formerly bitten paw at him. “And what about this paw? It was sore because of you! Threw off my whole groove!”
“You weren’t even using it!” Philostrate reminded him.
“It was still a balance issue!” Countered Borachio.
“Absurd! You’re just trying to blame your mistakes on me.”
“And what were you doing, then?”
“Telling you the truth!”
In the midst of the fight, Fetina quickly withdrew herself. She would… check in with them again later. As much as she wanted to awkwardly sit around and watch two animals fight with one another, she knew she still had other things to attend to. Matters for the kind, or something important like that. Since she hadn’t managed to help the two out anyway, there was no need to linger longer. Somehow, it felt as though she had done nothing to change things between the pair. They were in the exact same spot as when she first started watching them.
Where they probably liked to be. The two had that kind of competitive relationship with one another where they were always fighting, but never angry at one another. Like herself and her brother, perhaps. Not that she was going to tell the two of them that she thought they were a lot like siblings- they would probably hate the very idea of it. Two animals who were always fighting, getting told they should be related? Yeah, that was just asking for another quarrel.
Maybe when things died down and she got bored, she would bring it up.
As she moved further away, she could still hear their angry voices behind her. It made her smile to herself.
