In an awed whisper, Marcor asked, "Is it always like this?" The very idea of co-existing with such stunning, living beauty was almost too much to take. His mate's silvery laughter met his ears, so that he turned to gaze at her, marveling at her own kind of beauty as she answered him.
"Oh no, not like this!" Her eyes shone as she gazed raptly around them. "I had heard that this happens once a year, but I haven't seen it happen before!" What a fortuitous time to bring him here! The portent of it vibrated through her very being. If she had needed any other confirmation of his importance in her life, this would have banished any doubts. She felt positiv that the gods had shown their pleasure, given evidence of their blessing on their union and his entry into the pride. She beamed up at him in unrivaled happiness.
Her laugh broke loose again as her eyes fell on his face. There, perched serenely on the dark blue lion's nose, was a large white butterfly, its wings bearing a faint lacy pattern in pale, pale blue. Marcor blinked his crossed eyes, trying to focus on the slowly waving wings. Samishai covered her mouth with one paw, stifling further laughter les she startle the majestic insect away.
Their eyes met, a moment of shared joy and togetherness. This was the way it should be! As if its work was done, the large buttefly lifted regally from his nose and floated with studied grace deeper into the pride, towards the dens. A clearer signal there could not have been. With shining eyes, Samishai tugged gently at his mane, then trotted after the soaring butterfly.
A steady rumble trembled the ground beneath their paws as they made their way through the mists. Marcor listened, his expression puzzled. It wasn't a lion's roar, though 'roar' was a good name for the sound. It surely wasn't an earthshake, for Samishai looked only excited, not fearful as she would have if this was unexpected or indicated danger. Still mulling this, noting the sound getting louder, he continued to follow her pale form, staying close for fear he'd lose her in the thickening mist.
Samishai was now nearly prancing with cub-like excitement. She could hardly wait to show him the rest of their new home. She had spent days and days exploring the pride's inner lands, enchanted with the loveliness of it all. Now her dearest wish was to share it all with her new soulmate, the one sent to her from the gods. She led him purposefully towards the cup of a valley, where several waterfalls poured over cliffs to crash into deep pools below. As they pushed past the last screening of ferns, she stepped aside so he could take it all in.
Marcor again stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening. He breathed deep the humid air, eyes traveling from the frothing base of the falls up, up up as it smashed against ledges, poured over rocks, and finally up to where it came into sight, high above. His jaw was open in shock, much to the amusement and satisfaction of his mate. "Isn't it beautiful?" she asked in a hushed, almost reverent tone.
"I should say so," he murmured back, eyes still wide as the full moon, turning this way and that to gaze at the mossy cliffs, the rocky paths, the smaller, trickling falls, tiny pools, and then to the mysterious green depths of the main pool. It was breathtaking. "This is our home?" he murmured, still keeping himself to a lowered, soft volume. Somehow it would seem wrong to shout or roar in such a place as this. He turned his gaze to Samishai, eyes brightening. "Show me our den," he urged her, his throat tightening. He was... home. Almost!
The huge grin that broke across her face shoed him how much she wanted to do just that. "This way!" she called in a louder voice, then turned to lope up a sloping trail. They wound along the cliffs, with Samishai greeting lions she met, while Marcor was eyed with interest. Finally, around a corner from the ear-shattering roar of the falls, she led him into a small cave. There wasn't much there, just a few pelts and a small pile of baubles. She gave him an anxious look, finally realizing just how permanent this was going to be. Would he still want to live her, with her?
His reaction was all she could have hoped for, though. He beamed at her proudly. "Our home, at last!" He strode in as if he owned the place, but with none of the masculine possessiveness so common to the male gender. "A den, for us, for always!" With a growling purr, he suddenly turned to tackle her, sweeping her off her paws and mock-wrestling her to the floor atop the pile of pelts. "Just for us," he murmured, nipping her ear as she purred back. "A home. Our home."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
After that it didn't take at all long to settle in. Samishai introduced him to important people, and he submitted his wish to become a sentinel, a protector of these astonishingly wonderful lands. Marcor had been quite firm on the matter, not that Samishai had objected. It pleased her to see him feeling so protective of the place he'd only just come home to fir the first time. Within a week, more pelts had been added to the den, along with several other decorations. Some had been gifts, but others Marcor had brought in himself, saying his beautiful mate deserved a beautiful den. Such sentiments and gestures from him still made Samishai blush, but she was proud of how he endeavored to show his love for her.
Then came the night when, snuggled together to sleep, she had had another vision. It had been less visual, more emotional and physical. It had been dark, just like the den at night, but there had been soft sounds, tiny mewls and the scratch of miniature claws on the hides they slept on. She had felt not only Marcor's large, warm bulk against her back, but infinitely soft, fluffy forms, curled to her belly and moving gently. She had awoken with a soft gasp, eyes tearing with the meaning that couldn't have been clearer.
Marcor, awakened only slightly by her quiet noises, made a wordless sound of question in his throat, turning with eyes closed to nuzzle her with natural, unconscious affection. "Marcor," she said softly into the warm darkness, "what do you think about... having cubs?" The silence that came after was golden.