Early in the morning, before the sun’s rays matured and began to suck the very life out of the parched desert, two lions met in an unofficial rendezvous. It was a meeting between friends – if they were, indeed, only that – that would serve as a temporary good-bye. They were both well-versed in these fleeting separations, but that stopped neither from wanting to send the other off. For such was the nature of their friendship; they treasured each other as something… more than a friend, something worth the time and effort to keep dear to both their hearts.
“Well,” Atesh’s soft, tenor voice broke the still morning first. Already, the might of the sun was beginning to show, despite it being early still on its trajectory to its noon-time peak. In the panicked, drought-bound state of the desert, the sun’s each rise became less a blessing and more an ominous reminder of its terrible power. It was relentless, with no signs of change in the foreseeable future. “I’m off.”
In the relatively soft morning light, Mishaal’s clear and unfettered laugh rang across the sands. She shook her head and reached to caress her friend’s cheek, eyeing him with amusement dancing in her coal-black eyes. “Well, of course you are, love. You’re a tracker.” Her words were laced with laughter, as if to commend her dear friend for his antics. Though she was a critical lion by nature, Mishaal could spot no wrong in any of Atesh’s doings. There were flaws, of course, as was only natural to all mortal beings, but never could she seem to see any outright misdeeds. He was the proverbial apple of her steely eyes, her savior, her best friend – and much more, though neither of them would ever say such things out loud. Neither was looking for anything more than the flirtatious back-and-forth that took up so much of their time together, and both considered it simply better that way. They had fun together, but none of the responsibilities of an actual couple. What would happen to their liaison when one or both of them found a mate was another matter entirely. “When are you not headed out, sugar?”
Today, however, worry hung on every line in Atesh’s face, and he reacted with far more somber a stare than Mishaal would have expected. “It’s not that simple this time around,” he intoned, leaning into her light caress reflexively. They had both grown accustomed to the (some would say overly) affection ways that had come to mark their friendship, and both reacted to accommodate the light, flirty touches without ever quite thinking about it. “You heard about the meeting.”
“That I did. I hear it got heated. General Azarax had to break up a fight or other,” Mishaal nodded.
“Armada and Fia,” Atesh said by way of confirmation, thinking back to the tension that had built so pointedly over the gathering around his sister not so long ago. “Good thing he did, I suppose. Fia may be a talented fighter, but talent is hardly a match for army training…” He hated to think what might have happened, had his father not stepped in that day. Of course, Atesh had no right to predict a match that had never happened, but he knew that at the very least, it would have ended poorly for somebody.
“She would have gotten creamed.” Mishaal said shortly. She had never been one to keep secret how highly she regarded the discipline and training of the pride’s army, and the intense pride she felt at having become a part of it. She had so thoroughly inhabited the ideals of the Firekin that, but for her size, anyone would have taken her to be an old-blood member. “That would hardly have been the best solution. Best not to be wounded when there’s no water to wash them.” She added pointedly. The last thing they could afford at this point was the wasting of water, especially on needless cuts and scrapes.
“I suppose,” he nodded his reluctant agreement. It was difficult for Atesh to take a side when he understood so little of anyone else’s life. He couldn’t presume to know what anyone had been through, or what they needed, or what they deserved. That wasn’t his place. Right now, his place was to aid Vesta and the other Waterseekers in finding more water. That was what would save the pride, not bickering.
“I guess you’re off to find water, then?” Mishaal offered, breaking into his thoughts. She could tell by the determination on his face that he was ready to do something worthwhile, something helpful to their plight.
“Right. I don’t suppose I’ll be back too soon,” Atesh responded with a small, worried frown.
“And until then, no one left to keep me company, I suppose.” She had never been much of a pouter, so she didn’t start now. But there was no mistaking the disappointment in her voice. Atesh was off to do something for their greater good, and she understood the necessity of that but it didn’t change the fact that his disappearance would leave her lonely and without a best friend until he returned.
“I’ll be thinking of you every step of the way,” he smiled, a hint of the usual cheeky twinkle beginning to wake in his slate blue eyes. “Especially when it’s dark.” He teased, an unexpected laugh escaping his muzzle. He hadn’t thought that he would be in the mood for pleasantries when faced with so dire a situation, but his friend always brought out the best in him. And smiling was healthier than frowning, in any case, so he hadn’t much cause for complaint.
“Hm, well that’s more like it.” A smile tugged at the corners of the lioness’ mouth as she eyed him with care. “Just remember that if you forget about me, you’ll have a spanking waiting for you here.”
“Maybe I’ll take that spanking any time.”
“Mm, you’re a bad boy.” This time, the smile broke into a laugh, and she responded with a light nudge to his striped shoulder. “Of you go, love, before I take you up on that offer.”
Atesh simply shrugged, smiling at down at her. “I’ll see you in a bit.” He said reluctantly.
“So long as your head is still screwed on straight. Don’t let the sun get to you.” She cautioned.
“Will do. Love you, friend.”
“Love you too, sugar.”
WC: 1073
