Nyota'Angavu - Kitsune Mistress Nyoko
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Moricorm - Das Tor
Word Count: 1,104 (According to Google Docs)
Things were going well. More than a few demons were answering the call to regroup, and not all of them of Iartuupe or Sparda's line, either. It filled Moricorm with pride, a pride she hadn't felt in...too many seasons. She left one of the temporary dens they had found on the edges of the old lands, frowning as she was assaulted with non-demon scents and the sight of how the lands had become...wild. Untamed by demon paws. Her pride dwindled a bit and she let a low growl escape her throat.
They needed to finish gathering. They needed to take back their home, and make it their land once more. And they needed to keep rogues from their damned hell gate! That place was theirs and theirs alone, their sacred place, the heart of their pride.
Shaking herself, Ri took a deep breath. She could not afford to let Coactum be the demon to rise at the moment. The pride needed her wit and cunning, her face of unity. They did not need her claws and rage.
It had been a very, very long time coming. The fracturing of the Aikanaro'hini had been something none of the Ele'aina had foreseen, a twist so sudden he was sure not even the Gods had been aware of it. Twoleggers were savage, foreign beasts that brought nothing but destruction in their wake - and not even the strongest of demons could hope to face them when they had their thundersticks.
Seeing the pride of his birth scatter to the winds had been painful. But returning to his home after nearly three full seasons was bittersweet. The scent of the land had changed, after so long. The paths worn by paws remained, but they'd become covered by vegetation after such a long absence. But despite its sorry state, it was home. And it was with that thought in mind that he followed Ri out of the den they'd shared that night, allowing his eyes to trace over her silhouette against the landscape.
"We will have our home again."
"I know we will." Moricorm was glad to have Nyota at her side. Of all the lions who had gathered, he knew her mind the best. Oh, Koh knew her very well, but he hadn't known her NEAR as long as Nyota. That, and William didn't have a vicious bone in his body unless the cubs were threatened. "After all, this is our land. No one, two-legger or rogue, will keep us from it."
She took a deep breath. "It won't be long until this place smells like us again. Smells of darkness and fire and strength."
Nyota allowed himself to indulge in a small smile as Moricorm replied, stepping forward and sitting down next to her. He thought back, to the last time they had sat together overlooking the lands. Back when she'd first left in the wake of Drathir's madness, acting as a Neumare to gather the ranks for when the tides of change would see Morifaer's throne in proper paws. How times had changed them both.
"No, not long at all I should think. We are larger starting now than when we first banded together shortly before my birth. These lands have always been ours, and it won't take long for them to recognize our presence once more."
"Far larger." She chuckled, remembering how small the pride had begun. A small pawful of na'artu. More cubs than adults. It had been a wonder they had become so solid as a pride with that sort of start. And now...now, they had many bloodlines, many members. They needed cubs in the pride once more, but that would change with time.
"We simply need to rewear the paths. Take up the dens once again. And when we have cubs in the pride again, they will tread the holy paths once more." She chuckled. "And we've enough himy'ainur to watch over the paths within the volcano until then."
"Sooner than we realize, our pride and our lands will flourish. Just you wait, my friend. One day we'll wake up and wonder over how quickly the time passed and just how old we've become."
His voice was light and teasing, and he shifted to nudge at Moricorm's shoulder, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes. Truth be told, he already marveled at his own age sometimes. He had grandchildren. He might even have further descendants he wasn't aware of in the wake of the pride's scattering. It was a wonder to him that he wasn't going grey in the mane yet.
"Well, we are rather up in years already." Their prime years, but still up in years. It was hard to believe so many seasons had passed since her birth. "Would you believe I have grandcubs, Nyota? From Hera of all lions!" It was the oddest of things. "Umarth as well. It's...odd."
"Us? Up in years? Surely you jest, my lady!" His voice was light and teasing, and Nyota couldn't help but crack a small grin and nudge at her side. His grin softened as she continued, and he turned to look over the lands before them with a more wistful smile. "You're not alone in that. Balia had cubs before the twoleggers came, remember? And it's certainly possible I have even more grandchildren out there somewhere."
"Oh I jest not!" But there was a teasing tone to her voice, a humor she had around only a few. She nudged back, then leaned against him a bit, letting his larger bulk support her as she let the weight of the years vanish for a bit. "I remember. Hakuna'ajiza rather enjoyed playing with my bells, when I had to leave." The third generation of Hakuna's line. It was amazing to know she'd seen a family grow so many branches.
"Perhaps I do, as well." She took a deep breath. "I am glad we are getting a second chance. At everything."
A low rumble built in his throat as Moricorm leaned against him, and he shifted slightly to idly groom the top of her head. It had certainly been a long time coming, but a second chance at everything... How many lions ever truly got second chances in their life, let alone in such a significant way?
"I'm glad we're getting a second chance too." He let out a soft purr, before getting back to his paws with a brief stretch. It was nearly time for the first hunt of the evening, and he felt like helping the Far bring down something particularly large and challenging tonight.
