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The watering hole was beginning to feel like an ordeal. So much was happening in the pride, and so very fast, and the watering hole was where everyone who was anyone found out about it. And talked about it. And continued talking.

Caritas was paying slightly more attention than she normally would since her conversation with Orion. It still amazed her that her brother thought she should apply for the position of Shaman. The lioness was toying with the idea, but she just couldn't figure what it was he saw in her that made him think she could do it. After all, didn't everyone know she as the laziest lioness in the pride?

Desperate to distract herself from those depressing thoughts, the black lioness looked around to see if there was anyone she could get a good pick me up from. Her ears perked up as she recognized the distinctive coloration of Unyezi.

"Grandpa!" she called out, making her way over to him.

"It's good to see you too Grandpa," she replied happily, nuzzling the older lion. There was just something about being near Unyezi that made Caritas feel safe and secure. Maybe because he, unlike her parents, never seemed to be pushing her to do this, do that, do something with her life. He was just...there. Something to be climbed over when she was little, something to be leaned on when she was older.

"I haven't seen you in so long, how are you?" the black lioness went on brightly, the exhaustion of her long day forgotten in the presence of her beloved grandfather. Wtih more gaps in the leadership of the pride, the Guards had been worked ever harder and sometimes it was all Caritas could do to get to her own den before she collapsed.

The fact that Unyezi wasn't saying everything that was wrong simply flew over Caritas' head. In her book, nothing her grandfather said was ever deceptive or should have more read into it. He was just Grandpa and that was it.

As for being a slave...Caritas didn't really think about the class system that much. She was high class and that meant she could indulge her lazy tendencies, but she knew enough to see that if she simply sat on her rump the lower classes would resent her for it. Other than that, what did she care? So what if Unyezi was a slave? He'd been King once, right? That didn't make him any less of a person now than it had then.

"I've been busy like you wouldn't believe," she admitted. "And most days I'm so tired I almost forget to eat dinner before I sleep."

"It's not how I'd choose to spend my days, that's for sure," Caritas replied with a laugh. If she had a choice, she'd sleep all day.

The lioness frowned as Unyezi made her an offer. "You don't have to do anything like that," she told him firmly. It didn't matter that he was her grandfather and that grandparents should be able to do things like that for their grandkids. He was still a slave and she was still high class, and there were those in the pride who would see it as her taking advantage of him and their blood tie.

Caritas might not choose to notice or care about most of what was going on in the pride, but she felt class issues keenly. With her family, how could she not?

"Not the kind of grandfather I have," she told him with a rueful smile. Sometimes she wished that they could just do away with the whole class system - then her grandparents could do nice things like that for her without fear of what the rest of the pride would think. But, that wasn't the kind of pride they lived in.

Privately she wondered, sometimes, why the Great Lion's blessing should be so important. She'd seen plenty of people who didn't deserve to be treated like crap by those who didn't deserve to be blessed.

In the middle of that musing, Unyezi spoke up about the conversation she'd had with Orion. The lioness snorted. "And by 'heard about' I'm sure you mean that you heard me shouting at him," she pointed out. She knew how loud she could yell, especially at frustrating siblings. She was also avoiding thinking about her Grandpa's question as long as possible.

"I have," Caritas admitted finally. "And I know that I'm a good candidate for it...but I don't like that. Why does the Shaman have to be high class anyway? There's plenty of lionesses in the pride who could do just as good a job as Shira did...but they aren't high class and can't even apply." A growl was echoing around her words by the time she finished, and the black lioness' muscles were tense with anger.

And people wondered why she preferred to pretend that current events didn't affect her. It was obviously to keep from ripping people's throats out.

Caritas looked up at her grandfather, black eyes flashing with anger. "And if I can't question it, who can?" she hissed, modulating her voice somewhat to accede to Unyezi's unspoken request, but no more than that. Gone was the cheerful granddaughter. In her place stood an angry Guard, trying to figure out what it was she was supposed to protect, trying to see what sort of reason there was to support and enforce a caste system that seemed to lend itself to abuse.

"If I do interview for any prestigious position in this pride, it will be one that does not perpetrate the mindset of those born blessed being somehow better than those born at other times," she spat. The temptation she had felt when talking to Orion was now completely dissolved. Now that she thought about it, Shaman was the position that truly helped maintain the inequality between the castes, assisted by the Priests and Priestesses.

"It is not the Great Lion I doubt," she replied softly, allowing the anger to drain out of her. "Merely those who claim to do His bidding." Unyezi was right when he mentioned those who had been demoted recently. It was that in particular which made her doubt the priests of the pride - for if the Great Lion had bestowed a blessing on someone, who gave mere mortals the right to take it away?

She looked up again, facing her grandfather. "I believe in and worship the Great Lion, and I believe His blessing means something," Caritas told Unyezi. There was more - so much more! - that she wanted to add to that statement, but Grandpa was right, this was hardly the time or place to say it. Sadly, there might never be a place she could say it, and she had no guarantee that he would understand those things she could not give voice to.