Welcome to Gaia! ::

The sunset was lovely in these southern lands, Nyota thought; he was always one for sunsets. Sunrises, too, for that matter. It was the most lovely time of day when the change of tide between the moon and the sun was warred across a bloody sky. The sun, you see, never gave up its domain without a fight; even when the Moon offered little resistance to the inevitable. It painted a rather vicious light on the sun, and yet offered solstice in that the Moon always got his time despite his brother's grievances. Nyota contemplated a poem of this nature as he wadded through the tall grass of the savannah, listening to the dirt crunch gently under his paws. He wasn't hunting, and thus there was little need to be silent.

Poetry was a wonderful way to spend ones time when there wasn't anyone else about; truly, it was a wonderful occupation at any time but rather rude to work on a poem while others might have want of your attention. As Nyota began to run a few possible opening lines together, he crested a hill that brought him to a place where he might view the open savannah before him. It seemed ready to die out, and give ready to crumble to dry land, devoid of anything in one direction, and yet open to greener pastures in the other. Nyota turned his nose towards the green, having had far too much dirt and desolation lately for a few more months time, and plunged once more into the sea of vegetation.

"Sweetly turn the circle wheel
an never ending dance
two and two with endless zeal
Take their warrior's stance."

Nyota shook his head, scoffing lightly at himself. A child could do better than that; where was his head today?

The whine hadn't gone unnoticed to Nyota's ears, nor had the sight of the blisteringly white cub amongst the grass. It was hard for such unnatural colours to blend in, and he didn't fault the cub--so young as he was--for being unable to do it. The sight was actually rather cute, and Nyota found a slight smirk drawn on his maw. Left on his own to practice hunting and pouncing and all those things a cub was supposed to do without much instruction on how to do it; those days were long past but the sight of the little cub pushing himself so hard brought it back with a bite of nostalgia. Brushing that aside, he allowed a soft chuckle to escape his maw as he stepped into the cub's view.

"Rather nice day for practice, isn't it?" He asked, ignoring the cubs whining; All children were allowed to do such, after all. He planted himself near the cub, not too close so as to present less of an obvious threat. There was no reason to make the illusion that he couldn't be a threat if he had the mind to, though, that would be more suspicious than simply flat out stating the truth that he knew and the cub, had he any sense at all, would know as well. Instead he lifted a paw to dig a bur from his fur before he continued, "Of course, you're bound to hurt yourself further if you keep charging bolders the way that you were. That leg is probably going to be stressed for awhile as it is."

"Quite true," Nyota agreed reasonably. There wasn't any reason to get upset with cubs, he'd found a long time ago. They did better if you bothered to listen to them, rather than order them about. Of course, this was everyone--not JUST cubs. "And you seem to be doing a good job of it. However, you might want to try practicing with something a little more.. flexible than a rock."

The older lion paused, not bothering to look up from his paw. He examined the appendage slowly, turning it over to look between his toes as he considered his words. Why he was bothering with this cub was never revealed, for Nyota didn't find it pertanent. "I'm assuming that you want help at all, obviously. Do you?"

Nyota chuckled lightly to himself. "If you say so," While the words themselves were neutral, their tone implied something a little more nasty. The older lion stretched himself on the ground, taking a moment to mask his looks towards Ishida in the slitting of his eyes. He couldn't really see the injury from here, but in all odds the boy had probably just pulled something. He should run back to his mother.

"Good luck with that, then." Nyota shrugged with a fluid roll of his shoulders as he straightened and began to lumber off into the grass again.

Nyota's eyes narrowed, but it was with more mirth than anything else. A smirk drew itself across his lips but he did not stop or turn to allow the boy to see either. Instead, he continued to walk, though slowly, as if to allow the boy to come after him if he chose. Over his shoulder he replied nonchalantly, "Give up? No child, I have nothing to give up upon, I merely offered help were it wanted. Beyond that, I have no help to give someone who would let a little physical discomfort stop them--you'll recieve no award for being afraid of pain, take that for advice."

Nyota smiled to himself. the boy was following--he could hear his steps and knew who it was for the light way every fourth step was treated; already favoring that leg. He'd already considered what the boy's arguments could be and yet the boy didn't make them. It was unusual but not disconcerting. In fact, one could say that the boy's silence was intriguing. It was for this fact that Nyota didn't speed up or make any attempt to lose the boy, he simply

((will finish later))