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Meepfur

To say the Inselelo was overwhelmed was an understatement.

He had been able to hold his position as one of the Inselele for a while now, and had bested all his challengers. It wasn't until last night that he'd felt in danger of losing... off guard and vaguely unfocused.

The male had been sneaky indeed, and though they seemed equally matched, it was Gakere who had finally charged in to end the fight and chased the male away. The red pelted lion had not been weak, and though Nguvu had come out of it with nothing serious, he was sure the male would return some day.

His mind, he had to admit, was on other things. His four cubs had just returned to the pride, the legacy he would leave in the Bonelands no matter what happened. Two of which were boys,, who would know the hardships of leaving their pride for good.

He had been lucky to come back, he knew that, but he feared that his new found love for his tiny cubs had made him softer, his mind in other places.

He feared that this new and encompassing comfort would be an emotional distraction.

He feared the end of his position.

When did he become so soft? This was no way for the crocodile slayer to think!

And still he sat in the darkness, one eye on the shadows, but one on where his sleeping family would be.

He felt a heavy force push him forward into the dirt, and his mind raced in panic.

Keeping an eye on his sleeping family had proven to be a mistake this time. He shook his pale mane and let out a bellowing roar. He could make out a familiar pelt, black and red, striped.

The danger lay in not knowing what the male wanted. When he had fought Sokoro, it had been clear that he was fighting him for his right in the pride. He had no way of knowing what this rogue wanted. It could be a similar attack, or something more sinister. Nguvu, though practical himself, had always been respectful and would not put fear into a creature for no reason, however from a fighting view-point, perhaps this male was even more practical, intelligent, even.

Nguvu had always had more brawn than brains. Fighting to become part of the pride and protect and serve was one thing, fighting to kill and cause destruction was another.

He was a heavy male, and once he was knocked over he tried awkwardly to use his weight to pull himself back up, jaws snapping in the males direction, but not without issuing coarse words. "What do you want?!"

It was a voice he had never used before, to suit an emotion he had never felt. He was usually collected, even in the face of danger, no, this was the voice of panic.

Nguvu should have remained cubless, he was sure of it. Though his family was not born out of an undying love or immediate yearning for fatherhood, it had proved to be something he cared greatly about, and something that had proved a distraction to his focus.

The male didn't answer him and Nguvu couldn't take any chances. He took a deep inhale and narrowed his eyes at the male, staring at his face in a sudden calm observation. If he was to become an Inselelo, which he doubted was his intention at this point, he would make a good one. If that was not his intention however, Gakere and Jasiri would certainly finish the male off after he had given his fair go at him.

Nguvu had never lost a fight, and wondered when he would with a kind of earnest curiousity. He knew he wasn't invincible. After all, a poisonous and cunning snake could take down an elephant given the chance. All he had to think about right now was protecting the Bonelands, and if it was the last thing he ever did for them, hell, it was worth it.

He grunted as he felt warm blood on his face and his back gave a heavy and painful thud as the male slammed him down again. The Inselelo used the strength in his legs to try and shift the attacker, his claws unsheathed.

The male staggered back and Nguvu used all his strength to right himself quickly.

His mind was still racing. Whether the male was challenging him or a sincere threat to the pride, he could not return if he lost.

He knew the way of the pride, and as a loser of a fight, whether by skill or chance would be determined as a weaker member. If the male seriously injured him and chased him away, he would not even have a chance to linger on the borders in the hope of catching Mhisani. He would never see his cubs again, or his sister. He would once again be without a home and a family.

This being said, he was not one to defy tradition. When he had challenged Sokoro it was well known that Nguvu's intentions were to overthrow him as Inselelo. It had been a talking point in the late stages of the migration. If he had to, he would go without a word, he was still duty-bound.

The attacker lunged again and made contact with the flesh above Nguvu's right eye. Blood poured into his eyes and as he blinked his vision became awash with crimson, before becoming impaired in his right eye almost completely. The sudden movement forward towards Andhaka meant blood found its way over his pale face like a mask.

He faced a choice. Stand there blinking in the night like a fool trying to clear his eyes, or head towards what little of his opponent he could see. He shook his head quickly, eyes watering to rid some of the blood, but not enough. He had no time to waste either, and he leapt towards the stranger.

Nguvu stopped to face the male, the blood dripping down his face slowly. He heard him speak and to his surprise it was something less cold than he expected. If the attacker wasn't trying to kill him, perhaps he was just a challenger. He entertained the possibility however that it was a ploy. He'd met many crafty males in his time and perhaps this one didn't want to waste all his energy fighting the Inselelo at the borders when he wanted to attack the pride from within? He let out a deep rumble in contemplation for a second before he moved forward. Surtak was missing - and that was one male less that stood in the way of this stranger.

Nguvu had a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach and he moved forward. The muscles in his back were already beginning to bruise. He glared at the male. 'And what then? What would you do with the others?' He knew Andhaka knew about the rest of the pride, he was sure of it. If the male wanted his position he would know better than to kill Nguvu. But if he had more sinister intentions... Nguvu would have abandoned his post and left all in the pride open to such an attack. The pale lion had lost either way now, and sadness fell over him like a heavy sheet of ice. He would not risk danger. He stood his ground to test the stranger.

He narrowed his eyes, pain searing in them. For some reason he doubted the male would kill him. He looked to the horizon and smiled gently. If he was going to kill him, he would have done it already. That, and he wouldn't be so annoyed at his constant questioning. If he heard of any ill coming to his birth pride, he would be back to challenge the male. Some may not be emotionally attached with their roles, but for Nguvu it had gone a step too far, a step too close to home.

He growled and spat out some parting words to the attacker. "You aren't here to kill or you would have done it already. Protect them, prove yourself, or you will die."

The defeated Inselelo may had been weakened from the fight but his threat was true.

He could kill a fully grown and enraged crocodile, odds were he could kill this male given the chance and upper hand too.

He didn't wait for a response and turned his back with a deafening roar, a loud goodbye to his birthplace, perhaps.

He knew goodbye would have come eventually. Males were never safe in the Bonelands, and so with a heavy but warm heart he thought of the chance he'd been given to protect them, to catch up with his sisters and to start his own legacy.

Then he ran as fast as his damage muscles would allow him, before anything that had happened truly had a chance to hit him.

He didn't want to go, but he had to.