Nesf was too young, too inexperienced, to be sent on or assigned a lone patrol, but she wasn't technically on a patrol. What a muharip did in his or her spare time, so long as it wasn't especially dangerous or spectacularly stupid, was largely up to them, and what Nesf was choosing to do in her spare time this afternoon was walk north from the oasis to the river. By herself. While she was now a full-grown adult, possessed of proper rank, the lessons of her youth had yet to end. She was beginning to wonder if they ever would. Lessons in combat - one on one, against multiple opponents, as one of multiple opponents - and strategy, in hunting, in geography, the lay of the land that they fought for, lesson after lesson after lesson, pounded into her ehad day after day. She had spent the morning sparring with Sabit and Aribak, defending against both of them.
She had lost, of course, since two against one rarely went in favor of the one, particularly when one of the opponents had a significant advantage in size, but winning wasn't really the point. More than anything, the point was conditioning. Regardless of what the point was or wasn't, she was exceptionally sore, but in spite of that, she was restless. While a small part of ehr was tempted to soak in the oasis and then sprawl out in the sun to dry, the larger part wanted to keep moving, and even more than that, to be alone. With five sisters, plus the watchful eyes of her mother and Sabit, not to mention the pride as a whole, privacy was not a luxury Nesf had ever had as a child, and one she rarely had even now.
So, when the lesson had ended and opportunity had presented itself, Nesf had told Aribak she was headed to the river to clear her head - she knew well enoguh to always tell someone she was going to be gone, as well as where she was going, just in case - and headed off to do exactly that. Still, 'just in case' was pretty unlikely. The walk from the northern oasis to the Hareket wasn't overlong, and she would be back a little after sunset, perhaps a bit later if she stopped on her way back to hunt. And as the river was the Qyrhyeshti's northern border, beyond which was rogue territory, the likelihood of running into any Burkuteshti was extremely unlikely. They would have had to walk miles unseen through Qyrhy territory, or else skirted around in a journey that would take at least two weeks, if not three. It was considered a reasonably safe area, and no one would object to her making the trek.
Nesf did pause every so often, though, looking up at the sky, half-expecting to see the shape of a falcon above her. Her mother would not be above sending Tala to check on her and report back, a thought which caused only minor irritation that was quickly dismissed. She could not fault Adala's protectiveness, knowing that Kotu had disappeared after going out on his own. He had returned eventually, yes, but not until long after everyone had given him up for dead. If her mother had a soft spot, her father was it, maybe even more so than Nesf and her sisters. There were, after all, six of them, and only one of him. She couldn't say for sure whether or not that bothered her, but then, there was little she was sure of. That was Nesf: always thinking, always wondering, but rarely coming to a concrete conclusion. She liked to think of it as keeping herself open to the possibilities, but others usually saw it as simple indecision, and thus a flaw.
That did bother her a little. The young lioness sighed and scuffed her paws through the gravel as she neared the river, looked from her feet to the sky again, and then scanned the river before her. Sometimes, 'river' was a generous term for the Hareket, and this was one of those times. Stepping in it would do no more than wet her pawpads.
That was fortunate, though, for the lion currently slumped over in the damp riverbed - or perhaps he had collapsed because he was dehydrated, in which case she supposed it was unfortunate. Cautious but not fearful, Nesf padded towards the tan form, stopping a few feet away to spit out a "Hey!" When he didn't respond, she moved closer and tried again. Nothing. Finally, she stretched out a forepaw and poked him. Still nothing.
Nesf frowned, and shoved him hard. "Hey!"
That work. The lion groaned, opening one crusted eyelid to stare at her with an almost colorless eye. It was several seconds before he seemed to register that there really was someone there, and when he did he started, lurching into a semi-upright position. He started to say something, but no sooner had he opened his mouth than he was coughing, wretched and dry, and spitting up sand.
She let him finish. "Bad day?"
"Bad week," he croaked, blinking grime from his eyes to get a better look at her, assessing her with a touch of suspicion, but also a touch of hope.
"I can't imagine eating wet sand helped."
"Better than dry sand."
"Fair enough. If you'd prefer water without the sand, though, there's an oasis south of here."
"There is?" His head came up, ears swung forward.
"Yup. There is a catch, though."
Head down, ears fell back. Sands, but he looked pathetic! "Of course there is. What kind of a catch?"
"This is Qyrhyeshti territory, so's the oasis. We'll help you, but..."
"But?" He coughed again, another hoarse and awful sound. She wagered even speaking was probably painful.
"But you owe us, you stay with us until you pay back the debt of your life."
"That...sounds reasonable. How does one repay such a debt?"
"By fighting alongside us. We are at war."
"Wonderful." He was hesitant. Good. That meant he might have a brain somewhere under all that mane.
"So. Your choice. In or out?"
"In," he decided. "It's better than dying of thirst."
"Good choice. Come on, then."