Perhaps he'd strayed too far. Perhaps his Tempest, his life's desire - perhaps she'd moved on. Dvija was distraught, foul-tempered, upset. A wrath of teeth and claws.
So he strayed. He left the oceanside, left the sea that had always been his real, true love. The salty sea air, the brine of the ocean, the grit of the sand against his pawpads; everything came together to create the home he'd crafted patiently for himself. A home he'd thought might be forever, but a home that now felt as empty as he did.
It was time to move on. His Tempest did not cry out for him any longer, and there was no call left to be answered. Dvija knew it, and Dvija accepted it.
The sun was hot, and he was weary. His travels took him far from the cool air of the salty sea. He moved alone, or so he thought, taking rest when he needed, eating food when he found himself lucky enough to feast.
Days blurred together; he stopped paying attention to the rise and fall of the sun and the moon.
This day found him resting beneath the shade of an oddly shaped tree. He was feeling a bit more melancholy than usual, his pelt ragged with dust, blood and dirt.
That was how the Goddess found him, and though he would not thank her at first, this day was to be his lucky day.
Keshi watched the water-pelted lion from a fair distance, Ping perched atop her head. The small, pale hummingbird fidgeted nervously, but Keshi paid him no heed. All of her attention was focused on the pale-maned lion and his sad eyes. He hadn't even called out for relief, had not prayed for solace, and Keshi found herself drawn to him for reasons that she didn't understand and yet would not question.
"He's so sad, Ping," Keshi murmured softly, the cheer that was constant in her voice dulled just the slightest. "Do you think we should make him laugh?"
Ping didn't answer immediately. When he did, all he gave was a small chirp before alighting, his quickly-beating wings moving him ever closer to the blue lion that lounged in the poor shade of a small, beaten tree.
Keshi followed immediately, dusty-violet eyes filled with a keen interest. Her wings were well-hidden from view; the last thing she wished to do was to alarm the poor, sad lion. It was not every day that a mortal came into contact with a the Goddess of Humor, and Keshi thought it prudent that she test the waters before making her true status known.
"Hello!" Her voice was rife with good humor. Keshi padded closer, that thickly furred tail of hers swishing with every step. Her ears were perked, and the long swathe of her mane nearly dragged on the ground. Ping quickly nestled himself against her shoulder, churring softly into Keshi's thick hair.
Dvija grunted before lifting his mighty head, pale eyes disinterested in the approaching female. She was a pretty thing; a little large for his tastes, really, but not necessarily threatening.
"I do not need company," Dvija enunciated carefully, "so please, keep to your travels. If you seek the sea, she is behind us," he pointed with a large paw.
"If you seek respite, there are many trees across the savanna. This one is mine," Dvija narrowed his eyes before lowering his head once more. "Find your own."
Keshi couldn't help but laugh slightly at the audacity of the lion before her. To think that she sought companionship was laughable; Keshi never wanted for company. She was a sweet, gentle Goddess who loved to laugh, who loved to bring others mirth. There was nothing cruel or unjust about her. She was as tender-hearted as one could be.
"I want for neither of those things," Keshi chirped softly, daring to s tep closer. "I merely saw you looking sad, that is all. But, if you say you do not need company, well. I will not force myself upon you."
Keshi lifted her brows and watched the lion. He didn't move.
"I'm Uchekeshi. Keshi, if you like. And you are...?"
"Dvija. Born to the Kizingo'zaa before the Goddess left us with no muses. My Circe is nearby hunting; she was my muse for all of my life until I found my Tempest."
He spoke faintly, his words muffled against his paws. Keshi tip-toed closer.
"Who is Circe?"
"My bird."
Keshi brightened. "I have a bird, as well!"
Dvija looked vaguely intrigued, but honestly it was only because he thought it would be impolite to do otherwise.
"Ping," she lifted a dainty paw to gesture at the white hummingbird that never strayed from her, "is my constant companion in life. We are fortunate to have such things, are we not?"
Dvija narrowed his eyes and watched the lioness closely. A hummingbird. He'd never seen such a familiar, and the teeny creature seemed entirely too breakable.
"I suppose you're correct," Dvija grunted, closing his eyes. Perhaps she would get the hint and leave him be.
She didn't.
Instead, Keshi settled herself very close to Dvija, her tail flickering against his in such a way that tickled his side. With an annoyed sound, Dvija re-positioned himself. Keshi followed.
"You're a bothersome sort, aren't you, female?"
Keshi only grinned.
"There is plenty of shade here for the two of us," she countered gleefully, "and I think I will join you in your travels. I like you, Dvija! And you are sad, when you should not be! Life is not all so awful, I think. Let me show you, won't you? I bet you'll find that I can make you laugh. I can show you the humor in things you might otherwise not see."
Dvija narrowed his eyes and grunted. He was not going to waste the energy in dissuading the lioness. If she wanted to join him, she could join him. He had little doubt that she'd be moving on within a day or to.
"I'm moving on when the sun dips in the sky," he grunted, angling his body away from hers. "I will not wake you if you sleep."
Keshi giggled. She'd make him laugh before they parted ways. She knew it.
WC: 1044