[PRP - Two] Piece by piece, my heart...

[Meepfur]

Asali'jua strode through the darkening evening of the Swamplands, sure in every step she took and every movement she made. The first of her children had gone, Nyoe, the grasshopper. What he would be when he came back, not even the seer-Queen knew.

Nor, did she think, did his seer-brother. It was he, her pale son, she sought tonight. Now, it was his time.  

[Vashtya]

Mng'aro stirred, oddly restless this night. He didn't know precisely why he felt so unsettled, as his "abilities", for lack of a better word, had let him know that something of import was going to happen, and soon--but it wasn't willing to share quite -what- he could expect.

Slowly, he dragged himself from his prone position, until he was sitting uneasily on his haunches, his pale coat causing him to stand out starkly in the surrounding darkness. His weak lungs pumped, causing him to pant ever-so-slightly, purely from his own agitation.  

[Meepfur]

He stood out in the dark just the way she did, and Nyasi did, and how his grandfather once had. Asali could remember him, vaguely, standing in the night, with the yellowed glow of his mane. Chuju'mja had never panted so, though, nor had anyone she knew. Her sister had been more delicate than she, but not weak.

It puzzled her, and worried her mother's heart. How would he face the ordeals before him, and the exertion that would surely come with them?

Any worry she felt, however, was well-hidden beneath her calm exterior as she called to him. "Mng'aro."  

[Vashtya]

Mng'aro's head flew up, honey-colored eyes alighting on his mother. The smallest of welcoming grins flitted across his features as he recognized his mother's familiar face. However, something about the tone of her voice told him this was the "big change" he'd been sensing the approach of.

Doing what he could to bring his breathing under control, he waited for her to reach him, cocking his head to the side expectantly.  

[Meepfur]

She returned her son's small grin with a little smile of her own as she drew closer, an indulgence that didn't lift the gravity from her expression. "It is time, child. Time for you to leave here and learn; your body grows, but so too must your mind, or else you will never truly be grown, no matter how thick your mane becomes."

"I gave you a name, once. I called you Mng'aro; Mng'aro is a child's name, and as long as you bear it, you will be a child in the eyes of the spirits, in the eyes of the Mother, and in my eyes as well." This was but the second time she had uttered such words, and yet they were already etched in her heart, and had been since the day she'd heard them herself.

"You must find a new name, your true name, and be child no more."  

[Vashtya]

Mng'aro nodded once, slowly. From the day he'd first entered the world, tripping along weakly behind his brothers and sisters, their mother had told them of this day, and how it was to be their transition from childhood into adulthood. However, in addition to the perfectly normal feelings of anxiety, excitement, and even fear, he worried at his own weakness...would he be able to survive on his own, with his body being what it was?

He wasn't afraid of dying, per se--it was more fear of letting down both himself and the rest of the pride by failing...

"I understand, my queen." He said formally, inclining his head.  

[Meepfur]

"You must leave here, now. Leave these lands without delay - do not turn to bid your brother and sisters goodbye, nor your father nor anyone else. Go, travel as your paws take you, as the spirits and fate take you. Go and find your name."

"When you have found your name, and only when, return here, to your home. Return to your pride and speak your name before us all." The strength behind those formal words of his had torn at her heart, that willing acceptance...and, in a way, the trust that went with that acceptance. Even for the practiced lioness, the fight to keep her emotion inside was difficult.

"If, after one year and one moon, you have not returned, know that we will say the rites for you, so that you will not roam as a ghost forever."

And that was all she said before she turned away; her last words to the child most like her before he left his home. She could only hope, with all her being, that they would not be the last words she ever spoke to him.

Even though she couldn't See it, Asali had to believe that he would come back to her. She had to believe it.  

[Vashtya]

Turning also, unwilling to watch his mother's departing back until it passed from view, Mng'aro allowed his paws to find their own path, sensing the rightness of it in spite of the nerves that threatened to drop him where he stood.

As he made his way farther from the place he called home, his lungs struggling to keep up with the ongoing, if gentle, exertions...he could already feel the separation viscerally, as if he were leaving a piece of himself behind.

As he went from familiar, well-worn trails into the more deep, as-yet unexplored parts of the swamp, the first fingers of dawn filtered through the thick foliage, illuminating the many swamp plants, not to mention the occasional frog, most of whom leapt into the water and swam away upon first spotting the pale young lion.  

[Vashtya]

Aside from the stops he had to make frequently to regain his breath, Mng'aro did not stop walking until he was at the border of the land that had always been his home. By this point, he'd lost track of how many hours he'd been walking, or even days--he thought he'd walked through two nights, as dawn was, once again, weaving colorful streaks through the sky as night gave way to day. The most early-rising of birds were just now beginning to set their morning songs loose upon the world.

By this point, his frail body was on the verge of collapse. He hadn't eaten, had barely drunk since setting out--the spirits that often danced just at the edges of his consciousness giving him no rest. His lungs heaved whether he remained stationary or not, his breath rattling in his chest, frightful to hear.

As he felt the ground beneath his paws transition from soft, marshy swampland to firm, grassy savannah, he stumbled, falling to his knees. Unable to even muster up the energy to rise, he instead sunk the rest of the way to the ground, so tired that even his stomach, which grumbled in protest, couldn't convince him to rise just then. Maw open, with his tongue half lolling out, his eyes drifted shut, although he continued to breathe heavily as he sank into unconsciousness.

((and at this point, I assume I'd transition to the appropriate land that he's moved into?))  

[Meepfur]

((Sure, from here on it's whatever you'd like to do. heart ))  

[Vashtya]

((pure awesomeness. =D.))