Post by Shomoro on Apr 1, 2008 2:24:16 GMT -5
Involved:
Amahl, Tyne Prince
Sammar, Jinjin'tau Royal Guard
Amahl demands an explanation for--
Well, you know the drill.
Foothills of Mt. Kivuli
Sammar has spent the last few days exploring-- and checking in on Ndalia. It would probably be rude to hover too much now that they're here-- at the very least it says some very negative things regarding his thoughts about the trustworthiness of the new pride. And the king seems distant but pleasant enough-- certainly not the murdering type, and why -should- he be? Still, Sammar -does- check up perhaps more than he ought. They might be he for good -- if all goes well-- but he feels miserably that his association with the queen-to-be is mostly -over-. Of course it's not, really-- but... the beauty of her will be someone /else's/. Which makes for a very grouchy head guard. So the new surroundings- -and his new friend-- make for at least a halfway pleasant entertainment. Having spent the heat of the day grooming himself and napping on his own, Sammar now has begun to wander once more-- into the windy slopes at the base of the mountain.
That knight of Mizuka's had left shortly after speaking to him--Amahl had tried to convince him that things are /fine/, and that he didn't have to go, but he doesn't think that Kisehemu listened to him. Certainly he hasn't seen the lion out patrolling--just other, unfamiliar males he assumes are either guards or more knights. And he's been on the border a lot since they arrived. Which is...okay. Everyone else has been busy, after all. But Sammar hasn't been around much, even, and wasn't the lion supposed to be mentoring him? Maybe he's just displaced his uselessness over to Kivuli instead of Tyne. The boy's stretched himself out on one of the rock outcroppings, and he's gazing towards the north with a frown on his face.
"Are you practicing guarding?" comes a voice from a little below him-- Sammar has spotted him, it appears. "You're doing a very good job of it." There's a sort of well-meaning teasing in his voice. He -doesn't- look at Amahl as a 'real' guard in training-- if he did, there'd be cuffs a-plenty.
His ears turn back when he hears that voice, and rather than look down Amahl just lowers his head to rest against one of his forelegs; his paws are dangling off the rock. "...Not really." Amahl hadn't come here to learn /that/ particular skill, after all--especially because, well, he sucks at it. When he caught Sammar at the border? Well, that's probably the upper limit of what he can do. If it had come to a fight...
"What did Mizuka's guard want with you?" comes the response, as Sammar climbs up to meet him. He doesn't hesitate to hop up onto the rock upon which Amahl is sitting, and lowers his head to give the other male's hindquarters a nudge to try to get him to move a little-- he wants room to stand, at least.
Amahl doesn't move /immediately/, but after a minute he does shuffle himself aside a bit, not /quite/ getting up. He stops before he finds himself teetering on the edge of it, though, which means he doesn't free up too much space; the rock isn't broad enough to seat two comfortably. /Should/ he tell Sammar? Kisehemu had said it would probably be a good idea not to, and...ugh. He suspects this is part of the politicking he's come here to learn, but it makes his head spin. Everyone distrusts everyone else, it seems like. "Nothing." Pause. "Wanted to know how things are in Tyne." And if the Jinjin'tau had taken him away from the pride unwillingly, and then after /that/ if Elimnyama knows where he went or if he'd run off with them in secret. And when he'd tried to explain again about Sammar, well--the knight wasn't terribly impressed, he feels. "Are you /really/ going to teach me anything about diplomacy?" He does look up, finally, and his stare is accusing.
"Ah. See? You're getting things done already." He lowers his head to rub his muzzle against his leg, and is struck by Amahl's stare from this angle. He's still a moment, then: "All right. I don't know a lot about it, but..." trailing off. Had he said he'd teach Amahl that? He doen't recall it--not in -so- many words. But... "I can teach you -some- things."
And for such a small lion, Amahl has a /very/ effective stare. "Because you /said/ you were a diplomatic party, and that's what I told my /father/ you were," he goes on, stressing the word 'father.' He may not be much, but his family is important! "And I wouldn't have come with you if I hadn't been underneath the impression that you could help me learn something useful to do with myself." Glare. /Glare/. Maybe part of the problem is that Sammar had never /promised/ him that, per se, and Amahl had merely extrapolated from what he /had/ said, but the end result is the same either way: he expected some education, dammit! "You /don't/ know a lot about it? You /said/ you were a diplomatic party!" He just...hadn't mentioned he was just their /muscle/, and not actually one of said diplomats.
"-- We -are- a diplomatic party!" there's no reason he -ought- to feel guilty about this-- but he -is-! His ears pin. "-I- keep an eye on the queen. I'm -somewhat- diplomatic." Isn't he? Dammit. "What do you want to know? Anyway, you're making valuable ties with another pride, -and- the new portion of it. I'll introduce you to the other male we've got-- you can learn things from him, too, and from Chaoti-- she's -awkward- but she knows how to talk to other prides. I can do a little of it." No, there's no reason to be uncomfortable! So-- why is he feeling-bad-? This wasn't supposed to make him feel -bad-!
"Then why can't you teach me anything about it? Shouldn't I be, I don't know, /with/ you while you're off doing political things?" Well, Elimnyama certainly didn't teach the other males how to guard by avoiding them for days. And Waset certainly didn't teach his sisters how to hunt by doing that either. "--What, your ambassador?" Amahl snorts. "I don't like /her/. She creeps me /out/." There's something that's just not right about that one, in /his/ opinion, and it isn't just because she looks like she was beaten up by a fire. "I wanted /you/ to teach me! You were the one who /wanted/ me to come with you anyway!"
"-- All right, you can come, then. I had- hoped- you'd spend the time on your own looking around and getting familiar with the place! I was looking to find you so that you could tell me what you'd seen!" his tail lashes once or twice, and again when Amahl speaks against Chaosti. "She's -odd- but she's decent at what she does when she can bring herself to be polite! -- All right." It's that last part that softens him a little, prevents him from giving the adolescent a swat. "We can pay the king a visit tonight, then-- have you talked with him yet?"
"You didn't /say/ that! How am I supposed to know what you want me to do when you don't /tell/ me?" Amahl's pushed himself up, and he's /really/ glowering now. "If you're going to /teach/ me things you should actually be talking to me!" The adolescent scoffs, then looks away, shaking his head. "Of /course/ I haven't spoken with him. Aside from his bodyguard I don't think anyone's even /noticed/ me." The Jinjin'tau certainly didn't seem to realise they'd acquired an extra hanger-on even after Sammar had introduced him. And Mizuka hadn't said /anything/, or even looked at him for very long when Chaosti had said his name as an afterthought.
"All right, then shall I -introduce- you?" he's irritated-- with -everyone-. "Watch your tone, boy," to the younger male, a trifle sharp. "I'll take oyu around, then, and perhaps Kinamisa can teach you to do a little hunting-- you're slender enough, for a male," thoughtful, briefly. "And in addition you ought to talk around a little, all right?"
"I'm not one of your guards," Amahl replies just as sharply, "or even, apparently, somebody you're going to spend much time training. Was there even any point to my leaving Tyne?" Sammar isn't the only one who's irritated. And apparently the prince /does/ have a bit of his father's temper, but can you really blame him? He left his pride behind, probably the only ones who were willing to take care of him in spite of his deficencies, for what's seeming like absolutely nothing. "I /told/ you, /I can't hunt/!" He looks back at Sammar again, and his mouth's gaped open a bit--panting a little, sucking in deep gulps of air. "I ran part of the way back to Tyne and I /collapsed/! I /told you/!" he repeats, and his voice, for all that it's angry, comes out in a quiet, breathless gasp before he's turning away again, in disgust of himself this time, and hacking in a vain attempt to clear some blockage in his lungs or throat that isn't there. His chest burns and he can't breathe; Sammar /better/ not yell at him, or--well, what could he do, really? Aside from wheeze furiously at him.
Thankfully for both of them (because he wouldn't like it at -all- if Amahl collapsed on him), the pale cat's suddenly labored breathing silences Sammar's growing anger. He lowers his head to bump the adolescent's shoulder. "All right then," gruff-- not unkind, but terse. "You'll tag along with me and Jitahadhari when he comes, all right? You'll be much more useful as a talker than a fighter." He nudges Amahl again, licks his shoulder, uncertain-- he hasn't seen this kind of behavior before-- well, not to this extent, although Amahl had gotten short of breath several times before-- and it's rather frightening.
Is it any wonder he keeps saying he can't hunt, if this is what happens when he simply gets too stressed out? It hadn't even gotten like this during all that unpleasantness over the heirs, but this--this is more upsetting. He's among strangers here, and there's a nasty and rather weak-willed thought that he maybe should have gone with Kisehemu, if the knight went where Amahl thinks he went. He makes a sound, little more than a louder wheeze, and collapses onto his haunches and then to his stomach--hasn't passed out, just needs to get off his feet for a bit and catch his breath; he lost more of it when he started coughing.
Awkwardly, Sammar moves to stretch out beside him-- it -is- rather too tight to fit the both of them adequately, but if he sort of lets one paw dangle like -so- he can manage it, although he's leaning a bit hard against Amahl and the perch is a precarious one. "It's all right," that awkward, gruff worry. "You'll be an excellent diplomat, I'll help you out." And he'll just have to get someone to help -him- out as well, given that his solution is generally to hit it until it stops disagreeing. But really, hitting with -words- is... just -another- kind of hitting, right? Right? ... Not really, but for Amahl at least that's the only hitting he's liable to be doing anytime soon, and he -is- Sammar's responsibility, and that at least w-ill- be a distraction. "Don't worry," he repeats, and gives the younger cat's ear a lick for good measure.
It's a wonder that Amahl doesn't just slither off the rock when Sammar leans against him; he hasn't got the strength to brace himself against the older male's weight. But fortunately, he doesn't. "'Kay," he manages to gasp; he's not really convinced but he's got more pressing things on his mind, like this sharp pain in his chest and forcing air back into his lungs and feeling, the whole time, inadequate and utterly furious with himself. On the bright side, those things have pretty effectively chased away his anger at the maneless lion. And it /would/ be nice, wouldn't it? Urgh. He can barely concentrate on what /it/ is right now. Uhhhm. Why is Sammar licking his ear? It reminds him of family, of Waset grooming him when he was younger, and after a moment he manages to shift, and get himself turned around so that he can drop his chin heavily across the other's forelegs, closing his eyes.
Sammar is rather -startled- by the touch-- but Amahl -does- seem terribly awkward, doesn't he? Rather young. So it stands to reason he'd feel lonely. It's that breathing that's most upsetting, though-- it makes him think of disease. He licks the top of the other's head carefully. Well. He'll have to ask if there's a healer around, he supposes, and start figuring out how to be -polite-. -Ug-h. Well-- he'll need it, especailly around Mizuka. And for now at least he -does- have this new thing to take care of.
Amahl, Tyne Prince
Sammar, Jinjin'tau Royal Guard
Amahl demands an explanation for--
Well, you know the drill.
Foothills of Mt. Kivuli
Sammar has spent the last few days exploring-- and checking in on Ndalia. It would probably be rude to hover too much now that they're here-- at the very least it says some very negative things regarding his thoughts about the trustworthiness of the new pride. And the king seems distant but pleasant enough-- certainly not the murdering type, and why -should- he be? Still, Sammar -does- check up perhaps more than he ought. They might be he for good -- if all goes well-- but he feels miserably that his association with the queen-to-be is mostly -over-. Of course it's not, really-- but... the beauty of her will be someone /else's/. Which makes for a very grouchy head guard. So the new surroundings- -and his new friend-- make for at least a halfway pleasant entertainment. Having spent the heat of the day grooming himself and napping on his own, Sammar now has begun to wander once more-- into the windy slopes at the base of the mountain.
That knight of Mizuka's had left shortly after speaking to him--Amahl had tried to convince him that things are /fine/, and that he didn't have to go, but he doesn't think that Kisehemu listened to him. Certainly he hasn't seen the lion out patrolling--just other, unfamiliar males he assumes are either guards or more knights. And he's been on the border a lot since they arrived. Which is...okay. Everyone else has been busy, after all. But Sammar hasn't been around much, even, and wasn't the lion supposed to be mentoring him? Maybe he's just displaced his uselessness over to Kivuli instead of Tyne. The boy's stretched himself out on one of the rock outcroppings, and he's gazing towards the north with a frown on his face.
"Are you practicing guarding?" comes a voice from a little below him-- Sammar has spotted him, it appears. "You're doing a very good job of it." There's a sort of well-meaning teasing in his voice. He -doesn't- look at Amahl as a 'real' guard in training-- if he did, there'd be cuffs a-plenty.
His ears turn back when he hears that voice, and rather than look down Amahl just lowers his head to rest against one of his forelegs; his paws are dangling off the rock. "...Not really." Amahl hadn't come here to learn /that/ particular skill, after all--especially because, well, he sucks at it. When he caught Sammar at the border? Well, that's probably the upper limit of what he can do. If it had come to a fight...
"What did Mizuka's guard want with you?" comes the response, as Sammar climbs up to meet him. He doesn't hesitate to hop up onto the rock upon which Amahl is sitting, and lowers his head to give the other male's hindquarters a nudge to try to get him to move a little-- he wants room to stand, at least.
Amahl doesn't move /immediately/, but after a minute he does shuffle himself aside a bit, not /quite/ getting up. He stops before he finds himself teetering on the edge of it, though, which means he doesn't free up too much space; the rock isn't broad enough to seat two comfortably. /Should/ he tell Sammar? Kisehemu had said it would probably be a good idea not to, and...ugh. He suspects this is part of the politicking he's come here to learn, but it makes his head spin. Everyone distrusts everyone else, it seems like. "Nothing." Pause. "Wanted to know how things are in Tyne." And if the Jinjin'tau had taken him away from the pride unwillingly, and then after /that/ if Elimnyama knows where he went or if he'd run off with them in secret. And when he'd tried to explain again about Sammar, well--the knight wasn't terribly impressed, he feels. "Are you /really/ going to teach me anything about diplomacy?" He does look up, finally, and his stare is accusing.
"Ah. See? You're getting things done already." He lowers his head to rub his muzzle against his leg, and is struck by Amahl's stare from this angle. He's still a moment, then: "All right. I don't know a lot about it, but..." trailing off. Had he said he'd teach Amahl that? He doen't recall it--not in -so- many words. But... "I can teach you -some- things."
And for such a small lion, Amahl has a /very/ effective stare. "Because you /said/ you were a diplomatic party, and that's what I told my /father/ you were," he goes on, stressing the word 'father.' He may not be much, but his family is important! "And I wouldn't have come with you if I hadn't been underneath the impression that you could help me learn something useful to do with myself." Glare. /Glare/. Maybe part of the problem is that Sammar had never /promised/ him that, per se, and Amahl had merely extrapolated from what he /had/ said, but the end result is the same either way: he expected some education, dammit! "You /don't/ know a lot about it? You /said/ you were a diplomatic party!" He just...hadn't mentioned he was just their /muscle/, and not actually one of said diplomats.
"-- We -are- a diplomatic party!" there's no reason he -ought- to feel guilty about this-- but he -is-! His ears pin. "-I- keep an eye on the queen. I'm -somewhat- diplomatic." Isn't he? Dammit. "What do you want to know? Anyway, you're making valuable ties with another pride, -and- the new portion of it. I'll introduce you to the other male we've got-- you can learn things from him, too, and from Chaoti-- she's -awkward- but she knows how to talk to other prides. I can do a little of it." No, there's no reason to be uncomfortable! So-- why is he feeling-bad-? This wasn't supposed to make him feel -bad-!
"Then why can't you teach me anything about it? Shouldn't I be, I don't know, /with/ you while you're off doing political things?" Well, Elimnyama certainly didn't teach the other males how to guard by avoiding them for days. And Waset certainly didn't teach his sisters how to hunt by doing that either. "--What, your ambassador?" Amahl snorts. "I don't like /her/. She creeps me /out/." There's something that's just not right about that one, in /his/ opinion, and it isn't just because she looks like she was beaten up by a fire. "I wanted /you/ to teach me! You were the one who /wanted/ me to come with you anyway!"
"-- All right, you can come, then. I had- hoped- you'd spend the time on your own looking around and getting familiar with the place! I was looking to find you so that you could tell me what you'd seen!" his tail lashes once or twice, and again when Amahl speaks against Chaosti. "She's -odd- but she's decent at what she does when she can bring herself to be polite! -- All right." It's that last part that softens him a little, prevents him from giving the adolescent a swat. "We can pay the king a visit tonight, then-- have you talked with him yet?"
"You didn't /say/ that! How am I supposed to know what you want me to do when you don't /tell/ me?" Amahl's pushed himself up, and he's /really/ glowering now. "If you're going to /teach/ me things you should actually be talking to me!" The adolescent scoffs, then looks away, shaking his head. "Of /course/ I haven't spoken with him. Aside from his bodyguard I don't think anyone's even /noticed/ me." The Jinjin'tau certainly didn't seem to realise they'd acquired an extra hanger-on even after Sammar had introduced him. And Mizuka hadn't said /anything/, or even looked at him for very long when Chaosti had said his name as an afterthought.
"All right, then shall I -introduce- you?" he's irritated-- with -everyone-. "Watch your tone, boy," to the younger male, a trifle sharp. "I'll take oyu around, then, and perhaps Kinamisa can teach you to do a little hunting-- you're slender enough, for a male," thoughtful, briefly. "And in addition you ought to talk around a little, all right?"
"I'm not one of your guards," Amahl replies just as sharply, "or even, apparently, somebody you're going to spend much time training. Was there even any point to my leaving Tyne?" Sammar isn't the only one who's irritated. And apparently the prince /does/ have a bit of his father's temper, but can you really blame him? He left his pride behind, probably the only ones who were willing to take care of him in spite of his deficencies, for what's seeming like absolutely nothing. "I /told/ you, /I can't hunt/!" He looks back at Sammar again, and his mouth's gaped open a bit--panting a little, sucking in deep gulps of air. "I ran part of the way back to Tyne and I /collapsed/! I /told you/!" he repeats, and his voice, for all that it's angry, comes out in a quiet, breathless gasp before he's turning away again, in disgust of himself this time, and hacking in a vain attempt to clear some blockage in his lungs or throat that isn't there. His chest burns and he can't breathe; Sammar /better/ not yell at him, or--well, what could he do, really? Aside from wheeze furiously at him.
Thankfully for both of them (because he wouldn't like it at -all- if Amahl collapsed on him), the pale cat's suddenly labored breathing silences Sammar's growing anger. He lowers his head to bump the adolescent's shoulder. "All right then," gruff-- not unkind, but terse. "You'll tag along with me and Jitahadhari when he comes, all right? You'll be much more useful as a talker than a fighter." He nudges Amahl again, licks his shoulder, uncertain-- he hasn't seen this kind of behavior before-- well, not to this extent, although Amahl had gotten short of breath several times before-- and it's rather frightening.
Is it any wonder he keeps saying he can't hunt, if this is what happens when he simply gets too stressed out? It hadn't even gotten like this during all that unpleasantness over the heirs, but this--this is more upsetting. He's among strangers here, and there's a nasty and rather weak-willed thought that he maybe should have gone with Kisehemu, if the knight went where Amahl thinks he went. He makes a sound, little more than a louder wheeze, and collapses onto his haunches and then to his stomach--hasn't passed out, just needs to get off his feet for a bit and catch his breath; he lost more of it when he started coughing.
Awkwardly, Sammar moves to stretch out beside him-- it -is- rather too tight to fit the both of them adequately, but if he sort of lets one paw dangle like -so- he can manage it, although he's leaning a bit hard against Amahl and the perch is a precarious one. "It's all right," that awkward, gruff worry. "You'll be an excellent diplomat, I'll help you out." And he'll just have to get someone to help -him- out as well, given that his solution is generally to hit it until it stops disagreeing. But really, hitting with -words- is... just -another- kind of hitting, right? Right? ... Not really, but for Amahl at least that's the only hitting he's liable to be doing anytime soon, and he -is- Sammar's responsibility, and that at least w-ill- be a distraction. "Don't worry," he repeats, and gives the younger cat's ear a lick for good measure.
It's a wonder that Amahl doesn't just slither off the rock when Sammar leans against him; he hasn't got the strength to brace himself against the older male's weight. But fortunately, he doesn't. "'Kay," he manages to gasp; he's not really convinced but he's got more pressing things on his mind, like this sharp pain in his chest and forcing air back into his lungs and feeling, the whole time, inadequate and utterly furious with himself. On the bright side, those things have pretty effectively chased away his anger at the maneless lion. And it /would/ be nice, wouldn't it? Urgh. He can barely concentrate on what /it/ is right now. Uhhhm. Why is Sammar licking his ear? It reminds him of family, of Waset grooming him when he was younger, and after a moment he manages to shift, and get himself turned around so that he can drop his chin heavily across the other's forelegs, closing his eyes.
Sammar is rather -startled- by the touch-- but Amahl -does- seem terribly awkward, doesn't he? Rather young. So it stands to reason he'd feel lonely. It's that breathing that's most upsetting, though-- it makes him think of disease. He licks the top of the other's head carefully. Well. He'll have to ask if there's a healer around, he supposes, and start figuring out how to be -polite-. -Ug-h. Well-- he'll need it, especailly around Mizuka. And for now at least he -does- have this new thing to take care of.