Akasongi let out a deep sigh, looking off in the direction of the out-of-sight Outpost with a melancholy expression. If only the lions to the north accepted pelts like hers, but the Firekin, like the Bonelands, wanted no part of a blue-furred lioness amongst them. Perhaps she should be thankful that her native pride allowed her to stay, instead of tossing her out like the redpelts would have, but in a way, her permitted existence seemed far crueler. She could stay, but she would never be equal, never be enough; her coloration made her a liability at best, difficult to hunt with because she stuck out so sorely, and at worst, marked her as weak. It was true. While she suffered from no particular ailments, the young lioness was undersized, much like her mother before her, who was also blue. Thinking about it logically would have told her that this was because they had been undernourished in their youth, but Akasongi only saw it as proof of what the mose traditional of the Abazingeli said: that lions with unnatural colors were inherently weaker than others. This was proven equally well by the fact that her similarly blue sister had been stillborn, drought or no. Lions and lionesses simply shouldn't be blue, just like everyone said. Her sister Anashe didn't believe it, but Akasongi did. It was hard not to, when she had heard so often for all of her life, and so much evidence for the truth of it.
And yet she was 'allowed' to stay. The other lionesses never went so far as to actively attempt to chase them out, but many made it clear that they were unwelcome. Her life was full of poisonous looks and barbed remarks, some subtle and some direct, and there were few who would keep her company if they could help it. Fewer still would hunt with her; it had taken her months longer to complete her Ukuzalwa than other lionesses her age, as it had been difficult to find an Umzingeli willing to go with her. She might be the legitimate child of an Inselelo, but she had been - and remained - Lusizi in all but name. And still she stayed, in spite of it all, because she loved her mother and her sister dearly. She might hate her color, hate herself, but because she loved her family, she stayed regardless of what was said to or about her, and hated almost every moment of it. It would have been kinder of the Abazingeli or Abaholi to force her out as they did the young males, and spare her the dilemma of stay and be scorned, or go and be free. Even if that freedom could mean death, for a weak lioness like her. It was still freedom.
But because she had a choice, she was here, lingering in indefinite misery, no matter how much her mother and sister loved her. That was eclipsed by how much she hated herself, and how much she knew or assumed the rest of the pride did. Nothing was ever enough to combat such overwhelming negativity. Why did she have to be blue? Why couldn't she be more gray, like Anashe? She was useless, just a waste of space who was no good to anyone. Her mother had taught her how to fish, but it wasn't like hunting. There was no admiration for the skill, no praise for success, and she saw nothing in it to be proud of. She contributed nothing to the pride, and she was ashamed to say it. They would all be better off without her, but she inflicted herself upon them anyway. Perhaps it was her own sort of revenge for being treated poorly, but there was no satisfaction in it.
She shook her head and turned back to the south, a course of direction that happened to take her past one of the new Abaholi as he came the opposite way. It was the big one, because of course it was, the handsomely dark one who had been born here. He was kin of some degree, as they were both descended from Matifu, but not so close that a hopeless part of her didn't admire him, practically the Ithambo'hlabathi ideal of physical perfection. She averted her golden eyes, hopefully before he could notice that she had been staring, and made to hurry onward. Too late. He stopped and turned after her to speak, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up by the earth.
"Akasongi, isn't it?" he asked, with a voice that was pleasantly deep and masculine, and surpisingly without the disdain that she was accustomed to.
Having no choice now that she'd been spoken to, she stopped and turned to face him, although she kept her head down and eyes fixed on her feet. On one paw, she wondered that he would know her name, but on the other...she and her family were well-known, albeit for all the wrong reasons. She swallowed nervously and answered, "Yes, U-Umholi Umkhombo."
Such a small, anxious thing she was! The dark lion knew full well how she must have been treated all her life, and couldn't say that he was surprised be her manner, but he felt sorry for her. Still, there was nothing he could really do for her. The way the females treated each other was, by and large, their own concern, and she was not forced to stay and endure it; he might not fully agree with all the traditional views on pelt color, if there was anything he truly disapproved of in this situation, it was that her mother had chosen to have cubs here, knowing from experience what they would be subjected to. Not that it was Akasongi's fault, poor thing. He kept all of this to himself, isntead inquiring conversationally, "Returning from the Outpost?"
"No," she replied, shaking her head, "I was just out for a walk. I doubt they'd like me very much, anyway."
"Whether or not they would like you," he pointed out, "Our treaty does give you the right to drink from the spring - and train, if you wish." Although, strictly speaking, the Firekin would be within rights to deny her access, if they really wanted to, but they weren't generally as mean-spirited as the more 'conservative' Abazingeli.
"Just what I need is to train with them," Akasongi remarked with a hollow laugh. "One blow from one of those giants and I'd be dead."
"That might be exaggerating their power a bit, but fair enough. It would hurt." A small lion - or lioness - could learn to fight, but by necessity, they had to fight very differently. Akasongi was certainly larger than Holcan had been, and that leotah was aboslutely ferocious, but he chose not to share what might be an encouraging story about his...acquaintance. Certain details of his life in the Impibutho were best left out, and the fact that he had been under the command of a small blue hybrid was among those.
The lioness was quiet for a moment, then blurted a question before she could talk herself out of it, "What's it like? Away from here?"
Umkhombo regarded her curiously as he replied, "Different. Everywhere is...very different."
Gold eyes darted up, seeking. "Is it better?"
"That depends on where, and what you're looking for." But it was easy to guess why she was asking, and so he added, "For you...yes. It would probably be better." There was only kindness in the words, no undertone of 'you don't belong here.' It was the truth.
Akasongi took a moment to absorb his answer and the way in which it was given, then nodded quietly and turned to take her leave. "...Thank you."
Umkhombo had no reply save a nod before he continued on his way.