[PRP] We Will Never Be Royals (Sen x Ladislav)

[Hopefolly]

The night was young. Sen was not.

Age was nothing but a number? Try repeating that with brittle fur, pronounced steps due to diminishing eyesight, and longer and longer "naps." She wasn't lost to dotage just yet, though. Foresight had never been her strong suit, and that very well may have been her saving grace; not dwelling on the time behind or ahead of her made her less feeble than many, proving like most things, prudence wasn't a universally positive trait.

Mwokoti would be apt to disagree. When last she'd seen the Goddess, it was to receive a lecture about carelessness with her children, something they'd always been at odds over. Sen assumed Niu was lost, not departed, and who better to call than her oldest friend to conduct the search?

"The Firekin?" Sen's sidelong glance to Nsundu earned her an indifferent shrug.

"I don't know why she's gone there, only that's where she is," Mwokoti had said, disdain in her voice. They'd known then the tedious reprimand was inevitable. She spoke of the same concepts she always did, of gratitude and the privilege of motherhood. Just maybe it would amount to more than wasted breath this time.

Mwokoti was long gone, Nsundu slumbered, and Sen meandered around a stream. A solid day's walk and they'd be close enough to the Pridelands to warrant turning around, lest she risk encountering her siblings... and her parents. If they were still alive, how decrepit must they be by now?

Sen couldn't see her reflection in these shallow, limpid waters. She didn't really want to.

Shia bean

 

[Shia bean]

Age offered a backhanded kindness to Ladislav. He remained strong and able, as fit as a fiddle, with a mind as sharp as nails. With the former he could survive most comfortably. With both, every hour felt torturously long and inescapably painful.

He could only hope that death would rid him of his misery, or that the gap which stood between now and the age of ancients would hurry him along. The old adage of 'time heals all wounds' had yet to catch up with him. Perhaps he just needed a little while longer. Perhaps the evening would bring about less nightmares, and tomorrow his memory would be as lofty as the breeze.

Until then he did all that he could to push aside the haunting reminders. While easier said then done, he had managed well thus far.

The shimmer of white fur caught his eye at a fair distance. The scent which seemed to carry with it was lion, likely lioness and just as likely not alone-- however the land was heavy with the marks of all creature types, so one could not always be so certain. Since his arrival to the rogue lands he had made it a bad habit to follow his gut; particularly when instinct suggested otherwise. Having not led him too far astray just yet, however, whether the distractions had been welcomed ones or tense ones; they were, all the same, distractions. And his gut, as well as his mind, in that moment were both urging him forward.

The ground coverage was more than he had first anticipated, and in his eagerness Ladislav took to a short sprint. Likely not the wisest of fashions to approach strangers, but necessary if he wanted to ensure the meet. He would slow his stride once slight features could be made out, and would come to a standstill once the female, who was most certainly lioness, was within earshot. He could tell immediately that something, be it age or malnutrition, had worked its way over the stranger, but without her face upon his Ladislav could only speculate. It was enough, however, to sink his shoulders, neck, and head every so slightly-- a show of submission. I mean you no harm.

Over the babbling stream he called out, winded just enough for the force of his breath to be audible, and in as neutral a tone as he could manage.

"Hello."

Hopefolly

Bow chicka wow wow

 

[Hopefolly]

Shia bean

She'd wronged so many, from leaving her beloved brother to fend for himself to raising only one of her dozens of offspring. The others were scattered now, who knew where. Just another thing she deemed too depressing to think about, and Nsundu — guilty of it all as well, yet more oblivious than Sen could ever hope to be — hardily agreed.

When honesty was at its most candid, the all-knowing could righteously claim Sen had lived a life without consequence. Beyond Mwokoti's occasionally scolding, she managed to steer clear of anyone with bad things to say. She'd always planned to make things right, but a few things became too many things; likewise, the days were too short and they'd past the point of no return.

Ladislav's voice was so stolid and quiet it could be mistaken for wind soughing in the plains. Sen hadn't been raised to fear strangers, not in the Pridelands or elsewhere. He was old... What harm could he do?

As always, she could leave if things didn't go her way.

"Heading to the Pridelands?" She looked up at him, the grizzled fur around her muzzle more readily visible.  

[Shia bean]

Her inquiry peaked his poise as it did his interest, and before saying anything at all the male let his dark lips fall ajar ever so slightly while a quick silence was left to settle.

In those few seconds Ladislav discovered an undeniable truth about the unknown female; she was no Rhoma. It would make little sense out of context, particularly if said aloud. It might even offend the lioness... but in that realization Ladislav felt an enormous relief overcome him. This female was worn and weathered by a seemingly full life, a fact visible on only the surface of her thin and grayed fur. And at a distance, she was a stunning vision of white marked by even more gray, set in patterns he could only just sort out; but already fancied looking upon. And then her voice, brittle like the steps she had taken along the bank until he had arrived, yet confident. Beautiful. He felt more comfortable in the presence of this strange lioness than he had in a very long time anywhere else. Knots formed in his stomach regardless, similar in the way they had when the fiery temptress had taken to his company a short time ago-- only these were far more welcomed.

He, too, had a story to tell and was certain that it showed upon his own wearing frame.

Ladislav shook his head to bring wandering thoughts into the present once more, answering her question in the process. The Pridelands... that explained the swell of scents. "Ah, a pride. No, I am headed nowhere in particular."

At last the lion broke his gaze off of the female and sent it across the area that surrounded them. He admired the land for its beauty and its foreignness to him. Less to be reminded of.

"I am new to these parts, so I often find myself crossing the boarders of one group or another." He chuckled in a way that shook his shoulders and the black tendrils of his mane. "I'm not looking for any trouble, just a passerby."

Hopefolly

 

[Hopefolly]

Shia bean

Sen was brazenly obvious during her visual review of him.

She wasn't new to these lands. Or the Pridelands. Or most lands in between. Noteworthy exceptions including the sweltering desert and its Firekin inhabitants and elusive groups like the Ela'wadiyi (though Mwokoti had once tried to convince her the latter was a suitable finish line for her journeys.)

There wasn't much left for her to see in terms of location. But strangers? Their variety was vast and sometimes unpredictable. Sometimes. Any lone lion this old that didn't acknowledge the roguelands as home alluded to him being a survivor. A flood? The plague? Invaders? What wiped out his pride?

Or maybe he wasn't alone? Sen searched the vacant space behind him.

"You won't get any from me." Him suggesting otherwise didn't offend her. Not everyone had a Goddess at their beckon call if things got ugly, so caution was understandable. On that note... "You won't make it out here long if you're alone. It's hard to hunt by yourself."  

[Shia bean]

Her confirmation drew Ladislav closer. He was ever watchful of the scenery as he closed the gap, yet eager to make the conversation less of a chore at the distance that still separated them.

"That is good." His reply could be low and careful now without it going unheard, but it did not lack in its sincerity. As was her understanding of the situation, he might not have feared the lean lioness before him -- but she could very well be in the company of some powerful friends. It was best to tread lightly.

He then hiked a brow and gave her following statement a moments thought. Told, as if by a mother, to mind his stomach. He would have laughed if they weren't still on uncertain terms. Like the parents he once shared in the company of many moons ago, or the elders, who he had since joined in ranks, that once occupied his kingdom. "Yes, you are quite right." Emeralds remained upon the unwavering female while the embers of curiosity built into flames. "But I can assure you, I am not always alone."

Was that an invitation or a helpful reminder? He could not tell based on inflection alone. Ladislav would furrow his brow before inquiring,

"Are you a member of this, 'Prideland'?"

Hopefolly

 

[Hopefolly]

Shia bean

Probably got some voices in his head for company, Sen thought. She'd pat herself on the back for being mannerly enough to keep it to herself, yet his implications were in part to thank (or blame, depending). Did he have others with him? Slowly, slightly, she shook her head. "I was born there, but I left. I wanted to be a queen," she drawled.

If he thought he was the only one who could leave tone of voice up to interpretation, he had another thing coming. So, sarcasm or truth? Your move, old timer.  

[Shia bean]

The lioness had him pinned all wrong, but if given a moment in her head he wouldn't have been surprised. Ladislav had met the cautious and the friendly, the weak and the strong. These strange lands provided an array of characters that intrigued him more than they offended-- but how, precisely, would the old fair?

"A queen?" He returned, bemused suddenly beyond the point of hiding. Was this a game of precautions? Inferences? He would manage to stifle the chuckle, barely, in the form of a cough but his expression alone would give him away. It was beneath the staggering surface that his suspicions would continue to teeter precariously. A queen was never left unattended. If, in fact, she was one.

"Ah yes, the aspiration of youth." The tilt of his head filled a brief pause. In it, he also searched the foliage at her back. "I know well of it myself, ..." An additional, drawn out silence suggested that Ladislav might desire a name to call her by. He would end his part without one, however, if she denied him.

Hopefolly

 

[Hopefolly]

Shia bean

Let it never be said among her sins and shortcomings, plentiful and well-practiced though they were, it was justified to include "leaves a bro hanging." She told him, "Sen," and waited a second — only a second — for any recognition. No scowling to be seen. He wasn't from the Mtaishi either. "How do you mean?" she asked, more prying than curious. Even this was with her own interests at heart. If she'd had something better to do than inquire his backstory... she probably would have.

While he answered, she was thinking back to her youth. She'd only wanted to be queen out of jealousy, because her older brother was so preoccupied watching those royal cubs. When was the last time she thought of Ai? He must be old, too. Probably dead...

Sen tried to focus on the answer she was being given and managed to look inconspicuous. Mostly. Maybe she'd pass it off as pensive.  

[Shia bean]

He had often found the exchange of words between elders far more engaging, entertaining, and at times revealing, then that of adolescent chatter. When it came time for him to take his fathers place as king, he did so with the elders in mind. It would be within them that Ladislav would find the most confidence. Not always were their arguments justified nor their suggestions without bias, but their opinions were valued by all. They had seen all, done all, and to a degree knew all that would come for those living after them. He wanted no more then to take their image with him into a future self...

Ladislav felt the pull of his lips then, and realized too long of a silence had spanned between her inquiry and his journey through past and thought. It was a quietness that would have been incredibly awkward if he cared to make it such. Instead the male hummed aloud, replying as if no time had passed at all.

"Sen." He mouthed it twice before sighing. In an instant his kind thoughts went to an uncertain place, and he had to decide: what all should be divulged? It wasn't the first time he'd spoken of his past upon this foreign soil... but was he ready to do it again? Had it been right to do so in the first place? He shifted his weight, the only sign of discomfort, before rolling broad shoulders back.

"A king, like the queen, has its number of fans. It is a dream I've left to the youth, however."

Hopefolly

 

[Hopefolly]

Shia bean

Saved by the silence.

Sen nodded along to his monarchical jargon after he'd found his voice again. As it turned out, she felt younger listening to this one talk. You know, by comparison. "Guess we outgrow some things." It sounded sage enough to pass as something other than her saying the first thing that came to mind. "But not all things." Having trounced over the water, grass, and etiquette that kept strangers from getting too close, she found herself at his side. Sen wanted to be there. What more reason did she need? "Don't you think so? That we don't outgrow all things?"  

[Shia bean]

On the one hand, it was good of Sen to pry no more. Ladislav expelled a heavy breath that, had he been paying any attention, caught shortly before the lioness leapt his way.

But on the other, she had changed. Or had she? It was far too soon to determine, and likely a question he'd never have answered.

The lion found himself watching her move and again admiring the beauty that she so clearly was. Ladislav, being no fool and a lone male with zero relation to the land he traversed, would not shy away from such offers. Their brief encounter took the form of foreplay, and had been short yet wildly arousing now that the tides were turning. Who was he to deny Sen, and himself, life's dirty pleasures?

And unlike the moments spent with Rhoma, who had ensnared him in weakness, this would be a choice of undoubted pleasure.

Ladislav's voice became gruff, nearly a scold, as it lowed to a whisper only meant for the female at his side.

"Some things we will never outgrow."

Hopefolly