[PRP] Always Back to This (Al-Ha/Kabiro)

[Meepfur]

The Pridelands. Oh, the Pridelands! If Al-Hattal had a favorite pride, it was this one, paws down. And for a perpetual rogue - for the God of Rogues - that was saying something. He had an immense dislike for being on pridal lands, especially now that he was a god. It quite literally made his feet itch, a sensation that started as a vaguely annoying tingle and gradually worked its way up to an unbearable pain.

But it was worth it. The Pridelands' general laidback attitude, along with its staggering numbers, made visiting it easy. It wasn't a pride where everyone knew everyone, and coming across an unfamiliar face in the midst of hundreds of members was no cause for concern, it was an everyday occurence. No one would bat an eye. Still, he usually stuck near the border, as the sensations that told him he didn't belong here were less intense, and also because he truly didn't want to offer any disrespect to the pride. He'd visited the Pridelands - or more aptly, its lionesses - many times over the years, and he didn't want to give anyone cause to object to those visits.

Well, aside from the occasional objection about his habit of seducing lionesses, but he was reasonably sure that most of them didn't object to the fact that he left afterwards. Most of them. He had gotten an earful a time or two, a risk he took by returning to the same place over and over again.

A risk that was so very worth it.

Hopefolly

 

[Hopefolly]

Kabiro knew one home, the Pridelands. Dreams were never far from mind, but they were far from reach. If resigning one's self to velleity became a crime, only then would he leave this place, as he'd be far too guilty to stay. Tomorrow was forever the day he became braver, the day he'd go farther than he ever had before.

Borders were a mortal made concept, not physical lines etched in the dirt (though a certain God was liable to disagree). Kabiro couldn't be certain how close or far he was to stepping out of bounds. He used landmarks to track his progress. He'd made it past the watering hole, the speck of a tree in the distance, and the rock beyond that.

Kabiro never passed that rock. It was roughly the size of his skull, yet it's power was mighty. He could never cross it. Unbeknownst to him, by sheer chance, he was a mere half-mile from the borders.

Up ahead, a lion, all black as far he could see. Kabiro strained his eyes to get a better look.

Meepfur

Wasn't sure how big Al-hal is compared to mortals, so I just assumed for right now he's just far enough Kabiro can't fully tell there's anything amiss.

 

[Meepfur]

As he walked, Al-Hattal paid little attention to the details of the scenery. He was far more interested in living things than in landmarks, and keeping an eye out for movement. More specifically (and honestly), he was keeping an eye out for lionesses, or maybe the odd hybrid. The Pridelands did allow other species and hybrids, if he recalled correctly and things hadn't changed. He wasn't picky, and now that he was a god, he was even less picky. He could look like anything he wanted to, like anything they might want him to. It was wonderfully convenient.

A pale shape caught his attention, and he trundled towards it to investigate.

...and hesitated, a frown creasing his features, when he got close enough to determine that it was another male. Bother. Those were boring.

Hopefolly

Average god size, so pretty big, a bit bigger than Firekin.

 

[Hopefolly]

Al-Hattal wouldn't be the first or last to say, think, or assume that about Kabiro. And he was right; a tractable disposition, good manners, and a leisurely upbringing behind him didn't make for a lion one would call interesting.

Kabiro afforded him more curiosity. Always giving the benefit of a doubt, even where strangers were concerned. He'd intended to offer direction if his initial assumptions were correct and this was a rogue heading in, but the closer he got, the harder it was for Kabiro to will himself to speak.

This lion was enormous.

Kabiro's ears folded back and his posture became timidly defensive.

Meepfur

He'll call to Al when he walks by in my next post, if Al himself doesn't prompt further interaction. Damn you, bashful SoA. *fistshake*

 

[Meepfur]

Al-Hattal considered outright ignoring the blue-maned lion, maybe even changing direction to be sure to avoid him, but as uninteresting as he found other males, he really did try not to be rude. He could at least be reasonably sure, given their location, that he wasn't going to try to run him off or start a fight. Not quite as many lions tried it, now that he was quite a bit larger than most of them, but sometimes they were stupid or overconfident enough to try.

In the Pridelands, though, everyone tended to be pretty friendly, yet another reason he liked it so much. Aggressive males were even more irritating than the rest.

"Afternoon," he offered once at a polite distance. The word fell short of friendly, staying firmly in the neutral category.

Hopefolly

 

[Hopefolly]

Meepfur

What Kabiro knew of the Firekin he knew from Ava. That they enslaved her mother, fought viciously amongst themselves, and stood taller, stronger than others. The subject never came up anywhere else, and he didn't eavesdrop to have heard others speak of it, so he had no frame of reference to the dramatic shift in politics -- and physical size -- the pride had undergone when hundreds of rogues joined their ranks.

"Are you from the Firekin?" he asked, sounding more uncertain than polite, but... not rude. Certainly not aggressive.  

[Meepfur]

"Firekin? Me?" Al-Hattal chuckled good-naturedly at the question he'd been on the receiving end of more than once. Though he never visited - nothing about the desert or its pride interested him in the least - he did have some descendants there, but that was hardly surprising or even particularly notable. He had descendants everywhere, by this point. It had never actually been a goal of his, but it was the direct result of his neverending...goal? Quest? That made it sound too thought-out, when there wasn't mucht hinking involved at all.

He just liked the ladies. A lot. "Nah. They're a little too serious for my tastes, and all that fighting! And sand. Too much sand."

Hopefolly

 

[Hopefolly]

Meepfur

Serious? That was one word for the things Kabiro had heard. If not a Firekin, then a large lion from a land distant and foreign just the same. "I can imagine," he chimed in, and he meant it — he could only imagine.

Kabiro was familiar enough to with sand to know what it was, or rather, what it was like: dirt, only not. He'd never seen large quantities of the stuff across an otherwise vast nothingness and hoped he never would.

"The Pridelands are just this way," and he indicated them with a sway of his head, "if you're heading in."  

[Meepfur]

"I was heading that way, yes," he confirmed, taking a moment to shake out his mane, as though the unpleasant thoughts of sand everywhere had caused some to manifest there. Fortunately, there was only a bit of the usual dust and dirt associated with travelling. He kept himself relatively clean, as that was obviously a more appealing state, but it was impossible to be immaculate. He was always at least a little dirty, but then, so was most everyone else.

"Well." He cleared his throat. "I'll just be on my way, then. It was...nice meeting you." Sort of. It hadn't been bad, anyway. Still, he had things to do. Much more interesting things, in his opinion.

Hopefolly