Kiume was curled in a pocket of roots. The leaves of the bush sheltered him from the beating sun, as well as the eyes he could never please. He had learned to be fast. He was, doubtlessly, the fastest cat in his pride. Yet still, the poor young cheetah felt out of place. He was dark. And he was male. The gods considered him completely useless, he was sure of it. So, why does he exist? However, the young cheetah had discovered an entirely new problem that morning. It started with just a slight dizziness. He’d fallen on his back and stared at the sky. The sky was twisting in odd directions. It looked so unnatural, but so soothing at once. That’s when the voice had spoken to him. A foreign voice, masculine and booming. It spoke to him, though he could not understand the language. It had a questioning tone, but the syllables and sounds were all distorted and blurred together. The sky continued to twist, and Kiume continued to stare in awe. The only thing to put a stop to the distorting sky, was the holler of his brothers. They wanted his attention, and when they shouted, the sky snapped back. Everything was normal again, and the voice had stopped. What is happening? This is not normal. Was this what the Seers felt? Or was he just insane, like his mother? Whatever the case was, he could never let anyone know that he was having visions or hearing voices. They would surely punish him for claiming such ridiculous notions.
A tear streaked the dark cubs face as he pawed idly at the roots that formed a protective all. He would do anything to please the gods, anything. But what could he do? He was useless. The young cheetah’s tail wrapped around his form as he curled into himself and prepared for a wishfully endless slumber.
“Kiume?” The familiar hare wiggled his way into the hole with the cub. “I thought that was you, Kiume. What, did you think I would not find you here?” He chuckled, and pressed a paw against the cheetah’s face, as if attempting to tenderly wipe the tear from his cheek. “What’s the matter? Are you still sad about being clumsy?” The hare frowned, obviously concerned for his little friend. “You know you have only been training for a little while. It will take a lot longer than that...”
Kiume sniffed deeply, and turned his head from Moake. He did not want attention right now, not even from his rabbit friend. “It’s not that...” He said quietly, shamefully.
“Is it because you are dark?” Moake tilted his head as he carefully groomed the little cub’s mane. “I told you those lions are just insane, right? There’s nothing wrong with the color of your fur.” It would not be the first time the rabbit explained this to the young feline, but he had no idea how true his words were. Neither did the cheetah.
“That’s not it either, Moake.” He snapped, getting frustrated with his dear, concerned friends.
The hare‘s ears drooped considerably. “Well, I’m never going to know unless you tell me! How can Uncle Moake help?”
Kiume sighed and closed his eyes, completely exhausted from all of this wallowing. “The sky talked to me this morning.”
There was a long pause. Moake blinked, and Kiume stared at him for a response. Why won’t he say anything? Finally that thick silence was broken by Moake‘s disbelieving voice. “The sky talked to you?”
A new set of tears welled its way through Kiume’s little purple eyes, and he nodded again. “I could not understand what it was saying, though... it kept moving around, too.” The young cheetah buried his head in the dirt, ashamed of himself and his problem.
“Oh, I see...” He said, a little paw tapping his chin as he gazed upon the little cat with concern. He was afraid this might mean his little feline was insane as well. If he was... Well, there goes his master plan. “That is a problem.” Moake reached for the cheetah’s nose, wiping the mucus away like a protective mother. “Don’t worry little Kiume.” He said, nestling in the cheetah’s twig-like arms. “I’m sure everything will turn out alright. You have me, after all.” He said it with a smirk, but the little feline did not seem much reassured at all. Moake’s frown returned. “You have a family who loves you. That is all that matters, is it not? Who needs a god? I have lived this far happily without them... And all they seem to do to you is make you miserable.”
Kiume cringed at the truth of the hare’s words, and turned from his friend. There has to be some way, though... He thought to himself and leaned into the rabbit like a stuffed toy. He was right, though. He was nothing but miserable here. But as far as he knew, these gods existed regardless of whether he stayed or not. He had no choice but to stay here and make due with what he had. He could not afford anymore shame than he already brought to his family. Tears continued to stream consistently over his cheeks.
“Moake.” He whispered, and it was only then that the rabbit stirred.
“Yes, Kiume?”
“You will tell me if I ... start acting weird, won’t you? Like.. Like my mom.”
Moake snickered and nuzzled at the young cheetah’s whiskers. “Of course, Kiume. But don’t worry. I doubt that would ever happen to you, alright?”
Kiume felt a reassuring warmth in his chest at the rabbit’s words, and nuzzled into the rabbit’s soft fur. “Thanks, Moake.” He murmured, and felt at peace even as the roots and the pebbles whispered in their strange tongue. Even the leaves and the grass let out garbled, frightening sounds like fading ghosts. The young cheetah ignored the sounds, no matter how loud they were. Kiume would refuse to be insane, but the insanity he should face in his life is inevitable.
WC: 1033
