Pumzi rarely left her den at night. She preferred to work during the day, when the warmth of the sun eased her aching forelimb. At night the cold sank into her bones. It was no different this night, but she had found herself unable to sleep. With her one remaining son gone off to find his fortune, the den she had lived in quite happily before the cubs came felt terribly lonely. Despite the ache of the old injury, the lioness had gone out to the borders. She did not expect to see anyone. In her experience, visitors rarely came by night.
Lilah was also wandering that night. Unlike the lioness, she almost always traveled by night. The sun was harsh on her dark coat and eyes. At night her wide pupils drank up the starlight. It was more than bright enough for her. Which was why she saw the lioness long before the lioness saw her. Lilah had never felt any particular animosity towards lions, but she knew that they sometimes attacked her kind. She paused to study the lioness, not out of caution but because it was her habit to observe before speaking. The lioness was a mature adult, not old but no longer young. It was difficult to tell for sure, but Lilah thought that one of her forelimbs was scarred and twisted. Despite the injury, she did not appear thin or ill. Interesting. Either this was a kindly pride, or the lioness was highly regarded by her pridemates. Lilah moved forward, her dark eyes fixed on the lioness.
Pumzi’s eyes were not used to the night at all. She didn’t see the hyena until the creature was right in front of her, close enough to pounce on Pumzi had she wished. The lioness blinked, surprised but not frightened. Even aggressive outsiders had never frightened her. If they wanted to attack her, they would. There wasn’t much she could do about it, so she didn’t worry about it. It was no wonder she hadn’t seen the hyena. Even up close, Pumzi found it difficult to focus on the beast against the backdrop of stars. “Hello,” she said peaceably.
Words did not come easily to the dark hyena. It had been long since she had spoken to anyone … long and long. Traveling only by night, she seldom found reason to speak. She opened her mouth, taking a moment to assemble the right words. “Hello,” she said finally, softly. Her voice was slightly hoarse with disuse. Having returned the lioness’s greeting, she did not know what to say next.
Pumzi was not put out by the other’s silence. It took a lot to discomfit the lioness. She simply nodded amicably. The hyena was peculiar, but she seemed nice. Maybe she was shy, like Pumzi’s friend Sutala. That was all right. “Have you come to see the shrines?” Pumzi asked. “Most of the keepers are asleep now, but if you want to stay the night you can see them in the morning.”
Shrines? Lilah remained still and silent, mulling over the lioness’s offer. Shrines. How odd. The word woke some distant memory in her, but she could not place it. It also seemed strange to be invited to stay with this lioness’s pride. Lilah had met many creatures from many packs and prides, and most were wary of outsiders. She cleared her throat softly, preparing her long-neglected voice to speak more. “What are shrines?” she asked rustily, dark eyes still fixed on the odd lioness.
The hyena didn’t know what the shrines were? Huh. Pumzi wondered briefly why the hyena had come if she didn’t know about the shrines, but decided that the strange hyena had probably been called. Maybe one of the gods had summoned her. Or maybe she had lost her soul like Pumzi had, and was searching for it. Hmm, that was an interesting thought. “The shrines are built for the gods,” she explained, her voice slow and patient. “We build them to honor the gods. Many people come to care for them, and to visit them.” Pumzi nodded sagely. “Maybe the gods called you to visit.”
Lilah could not say why, but the idea of gods calling to her made her uncomfortable. She had traveled long, but she had not yet seen a god. And shrines to the gods … the concept was both unsettling and compelling. Although she could easily have turned and left, she wanted to stay just a bit longer, to hear what else this odd lioness had to say. Lilah was not bothered by loneliness, so it was not desire for company that kept her but something more akin to curiosity. “I do not know much about gods,” Lilah said at last.
“Neither do I,” Pumzi agreed at once. She had decided she rather liked speaking to this hyena. She spoke slowly and simply. Pumzi often found it difficult to hold a conversation with the more talkative members of her pride. This hyena’s slow, quiet voice was soothing and quite easy to follow. Pumzi stretched out her aching leg, settling herself a little more comfortably. “I guide people to the shrines, but I do not tend them. That is for others, others who know more.” Others like Pumzi’s shy but very clever friend, Sutala. “One of the keepers is my friend. She can speak to souls.”
First gods and now souls? Lilah blinked those black-on-black eyes, considering the lioness’s words. This was truly an odd pride. “I did not know souls spoke,” Lilah said thoughtfully. It was a bit of an alarming idea. Did souls speak independently of their owners? What would her soul say, if it could? She strained her large ears, wondering if she could hear a whisper from her own soul, but she heard nothing, nothing.
“She speaks to souls that have lost their people,” Pumzi said seriously. “I lost my soul. One day, it will go to Sutala’s shrine, and then she will tell it to come back to me.” Although her statement was ludicrous, her voice was completely assured.
This was a strange conversation, but Lilah had conversations so rarely that it did not seem unusual to her. She relaxed slightly. If her soul spoke, she didn’t think it should speak to anyone but her. It was good that lost souls had someone to listen to them, though. “She has an important job,” Lilah said, nodding. After a brief moment’s consideration, she nodded again. “I will look for your soul. If I see it, I will take it back to you.” Lilah had not yet seen a soul, but she had seen many things in her travels, and it seemed like a very real possibility that she might come across one some day.
What a kind offer. Pumzi was touched. She smiled at the barely-visible hyena. “Thank you. My name is Pumzi, by the way.” She waited expectantly, but there was no response. The hyena’s dark shape had vanished, melting back into the night. Shrugging to herself, Pumzi settled a little more comfortably against the ground. An odd hyena, that had been, but a nice one.
(WC 1190)
