Tahirah smiled as she looked across at the lion curled up close by. He was fast asleep, chin tucked neatly over his paws. His large green and black body taking up most of the space in her small den. It had been a pleasant change, having him at her side for the past few days. He had been fascinated by everything she had shown him. From the warm sand to the restless ocean. The forest that surrounded their home and the cliffs that protected it. He had been puzzled by the pride’s unusual ways but happy enough to adopt them. He had accompanied her out to the edge of pride to hunt and they had feasted well together. Then she had finally plucked up the courage to take him down to where most of the pride mingled in the cove, introduced him to those she knew and explained what was going on when he asked why some lions looked so different with their curly fur.
That had led to an in depth explanation of the Mummer’s Ball and by the end of that, he was determined to drag her out into the middle of it all. She had never really participated in the Ball. At first she was too nervous and too new, then she had her cubs to care for. When they grew up she found she didn’t really feel comfortable in large crowds and didn’t much like sitting on the sidelines and watching.
It was lonely.
But last night he had refused to take no for an answer and had finally managed to cajole her out into the middle of the party. It had been so much more than she had ever imagined. The sheer number of lions, gathered round the fires, dancing and singing, talking and teasing. Many lions acted oddly, or more oddly than usual, but she had eventually discovered the reason for that when she had drunk from a shallow bowl of purple liquid… It had made her feel light and fuzzy, warm and totally free. She remembered dragging Yosun closer to the Mummers to dance. And dance they did. For what seemed like hours and hours until her paws were sore and her voice hoarse from laughing. Finally she had pulled him away towards a quieter corner near a small fire and there they had collapsed with soft, breathless laughter. They had fallen to talking, first about her cubhood in the mountains, then about him and his pride of Jedi. The more she learned, the more she was stunned that such a wise, gentle lion had ventured so far into the wild roguelands that he had found the Kizi, and found her…
He had regaled her with tales of his teacher, a leopard called Kamau who, Wren was certain, would be terrifying up close. But Yosun assured her the Master Jedi was far from scary, despite his prowess and knowledge of the world, and the Force. She was fascinated with the idea of the Force, an entity that was all around them, within them and within the prey they ate, the soil under their paws… she wondered if it was the same thing that allowed Gods to exist, to fly and perform their magics… But she was too scared to ask Muhali, the pride’s current Goddess and the only Deity Wren herself knew. Yosun had been interested in her ideas and they had spent a long time in friendly argument over the merits and problems both views held.
He was so sweet and charming, yet so very smart and worldly.. she had felt both amazed he had chosen her to spend his time with, and worried her ignorance would send him away. But he had seemed perfectly content to sit and talk with her. His laughter was a deep rumble that rolled through her pleasantly and she had found herself seeking more of it, becoming bolder in her words and more playful in an attempt to make him laugh again. Gradually the party had thinned, first it was the families with younger cubs at foot taking their offspring to bed. Then older lions retired, some alone, others in groups. She caught many a pair slipping away from the fires and into the forest, some boldly, but others were more secretive. She knew exactly what they were up to and smiled. It seemed there would be a cub-boom in the pride soon enough.
Yosun’s deep laughter and the warmth of him stretched out at her side had been wonderful. His companionship and amusing observations of the pride had driven away her loneliness for the first time in months. And as the wildness of the party subsided she found herself more and more drawn to him. He was no stranger now, but Yosun, a young male she liked quite a bit, but more than that, he felt like a friend. Safe, comforting, non-judgmental. She had introduced him to her cubs, or those ones that were currently in the pride, earlier in the evening and he had conversed easily with each of them. And afterwards praised them, congratulating her for each was a well rounded adult. No easy thing for a single mother, he had commented. Where as she had admitted to wanting a second litter, but had no mate.
The conversation had turned after that, back to the pride and their neighbours. A commotion had started but as it was swiftly dealt with, she hadn’t felt the need to investigate. They learned later on that a whale had beached on the Bahari’s shore and several of the Kizi had gone to aid them in its removal. Along with the information had come another bowl of that purple, joy-giving liquid and they had shared it between them.
After that her memories were fuzzy. She recalled more conversation, some of it serious, some silly. They had danced again, this time slowly, next to their own small fire, the sound of the Mummers barely a whisper in their ears as they swayed. Warmth, the sweet sound of Yosun’s rumbling laugh, and the musky heat of his body were the last impressions she had of the night. Clearly they had managed to find their way to her den, for when she had awoke they had been curled up within it, him tucked against the rock, her nestled in the lee of his body, her head against his chest.
That had been some hours earlier but now the day was lightening and streams of sunbeams filtered into the cool shadows of her home. Next to her, Yosun stirred, his smile sleepy but content.
“Morning.” She felt herself blush. Even though it wasn’t the first time they had woken like this, curled up together, as she had offered her den as his home while he was with the pride. But last night had been… different.. She felt closer to him than she had.
Shaking her thoughts away, since there was nothing she was worried about, she turned her attention to their rumbling stomachs.
“What do you fancy for breakfast?”
(Word count = 1,117)
