Post by Safiye on Apr 3, 2007 19:18:56 GMT -5
Involved:
Maliki, Lion, a rogue
Safiye, Lioness, a recent addition to Kivuli
Within the soft rustling of the tall grasses reveals the form of a gray hued form. A lion. His stride is slow, steady, even somewhat guarded as he makes his way toward the scent of water. Paws fall quietly upon the earthen floor, stopping only for the briefests of moments before continuing toward the water's edge. A careful gaze is given around him, specifically the water itself before his dry tongue connects with the cool liquid below him.
The ashen male is not the only lion to have come to the Luvuvhu for the purpose of sating their thirst. A pair of baleful eyes watches him from the opposite bank, scrutinizing his every move like a mother bird guards her nest against tree-climbing cats. So close to the birth of her first litter, Safiye distrusts everything - and everyone in spite of the kindness that the Kivuli pride has shown her; she can take no chances where her little ones are concerned. Maliki's face is one that she does not recognize, which puts her more on edge then usual as she basks in the late-evening sun, her dark gaze fixed on his lean and unfamiliar form.
Maliki quenches his thirst rapidly, eyes closing as he basks in the pleasure of the cool waters soothing his throat. Now that hits the spot! Noting the relatively muddy composition of the area around the waterhole, he soon begins to withdraw from the edge until upon dryer earth. It's then he settles back onto his haunches, paw lifting to be cleansed of some mud and used to rub along his dripping muzzle. Mid cleaning, however, his curious gaze falls upon one whom watches him from the other side? A lioness. Intent on his form and no doubt distrusting; though seeing as she does not approach nor request reasoning behind his trespass (if it is such), he can only assume she's also a visitor. His gaze connects with hers before he returns to cleaning the other paw. Mud is one thing he cannot stand; water? No problem!
If the stranger was a knight of Kivuli, Safiye is certain that he would have introduced himself as such. No, Maliki is no pridal lion; from his posture to his pelt, he has the look of a rogue about him - hard and muscular, but not muscular enough to have supped on the milk of many mothers. "You have set foot on soft earth belonging to another," she murmurs in a low, thick voice. "What do you say about that?" Although the meaning behind her words may be difficult to decipher, there's nothing accusatory about her tone. She almost sounds... amused?
In mid-lick, the rogue's gaze lifts toward the female once more. He contemplates his answer briefly before giving it, "A Lord of these lands has given me permission to drink from the waterhole here," he states, "..to quench my thirst and a moment's rest should I require." That said, and returning to finish his little grooming session, the ashen male rises back onto all fours to circle around the water's edge, stopping a far from comfortable distance from the lioness. Resettling. Afterall, he does not wish to strain his ears for her words. "And what of you?"
"I," Safiye begins, "am as much a part of these lands as that sapling." Her gaze shifts, settling upon a thin and brittle acacia, so young that it has yet to fully take root in the soil. Perched upon the tree's highest branch is a pair of egrets, their necks entwined, though neither appears to be paying the lions much mind. They groom, preening each other's snow-white feathers with the meticulous care and the quiet adoration of old lovers. "And, just as the sapling belongs to Kivuli's king, so do I." Safiye smiles, but it is not a nice smile; her black mouth is coy and full of tricks. "It would be prudent to keep your distance, stranger."
Ah, one who likes to use colorful metaphors instead of just getting to the point. Though it is a nice change at times, he'll admit, "I see," replies the male. Perhaps, then, she's a recent addition to the lands. These strange, lively lands. Kivuli. A brow perks at her additional suggestion, head tipping upward curiously as he looks the female over, "Oh?" he questions, "With young, I take it?" If so, this is quite a dangerous little area to be with such.
Safiye lowers her eyes to the bulge in her midsection and gives a languid roll of her shoulders, as if shrugging off Maliki's suggestion. "Perhaps," she concedes. "Perhaps I have eaten too much, gorged myself on the belly of a buffalo left to rot in the sun by a pack of poachers. Or perhaps I was this heavy when I slipped, mewling, out of my mother. There are a thousand different possibilities, some more flattering than others. Tell me, what does your imagination suggest?"
Maliki can't help but to turn his face away briefly, smirk creasing his lips as he chuckles softly. This one's got a sense of humor if not a bit of spice in her. With his gaze back upon her, briefly intent on her stomach before lifting his gaze, "As to not offend you, miss, I will keep such thoughts to myself." Though really, if he did get closer; what would she do? She looks to be no fighter for once. Perhaps it is her words she fights with? Quite the possibility. Still, he isn't one to do such things nor would there be any gain from it.
Now it is Safiye's turn to laugh - loud and deep and full, like a cacophonous peal of thunder. "Offend me?" She rises, the muscles rippling beneath her skin as she heaves to all fours and lets out a groan of exertion, the bulge shifting, changing like living, breathing growth. That's no meal. "Rogue, you could not offend me if you put all your effort into it. It is a hot night and I am in need of entertainment, so entertain me, be wild. I ask you again: What does your imagination suggest?"
True. What was Maliki thinking when he said that? She doesn't seem to be one easily offended. On the contrary, she's probably able to easily offend others? "If I were to do all of those things, your belly might possibly be even larger." Smirk. "No. Best I can say is you've let some rogue have his way with you nestled below him, powerless to his advances. His desires. Only to leave you like some leftover gazelle; full and satisfied." He will hand it to her, she did well in deciding on a pride to join to raise the fatherless cubs so that they may have some sort of figure, besides their mother, to look up to. But that's just his conscience rambling off.
"Males," Safiye drawls. "You're all so similar in your ways of thinking. It matters not if you are a king or a vagabond, a pampered prince or the lowly runt of a lame huntress. I have met you all, and every last one of you is the same. You live to eat, to sleep, and to lie with us. Show me a lion who views the world in a different light and I will sing him a song of praises." Now that Safiye has secured a position in Kivuli, she's beginning to let her uglier side show - the side that landed her in exile in the first place. Her upper lip lifts into a toothy sneer. "Are you lonely?"
So, he wasn't wrong in his assumption? "Not at all," answers the rogue, "Despite how nice it would be to lie with a female, yes, they're just as bad as you say we are. They drift from one male to the next in search of 'happiness'. Should the male she decided on falter in the slightest; not enough nuzzles, not enough conversation, and she'll lie with the next lion that'll show interest. Though an interesting one-sided view of us males and honestly, I'd probably agree with it." Shoudlers roll in a shrug, gaze focusing on the distance, "I would rather sit on a border, protect it, and sleep in a storm then to deal with you lionesses." That isn't the /complete/ truth but it is close enough. "Alas, I am a mere rogue and finding kings that might require an additional set of eyes on the border is rare."
The hard look on Safiye's face softens, its sharp edges melting away as she relaxes and changes her posture to something more aloof. "Perhaps you have come to the right place," she says, averting her gaze to stare into the reflection of the setting sun spread splendidly across the golden surface of the water. "His Majesty is kind, and while I doubt he is in desperate need of another knight, he may not be... opposed." The dark lioness straightens. "If the opportunity presents itself, you should speak with either Nabana or Camrath; they can assess the situation at the border far better than I."
Not a single comment on the female matter. Interesting. Maliki's ears perk at her softened words, brow lifting curiously as she speaks, "Knight?" inquires he, "Sounds like the position I was placed in within the last pride I joined up with. Although disbanded eventually, I only assume some of the members have branched out to neighboring prides here." Not a total rogue, see? "I merely would go to where I am needed," he states, "Perhaps I will talk with this Nabana or Camrath though I dare not linger longer then I am allowed and would not wish you the trouble of mentioning anything to either of them. Maybe on the border."
If Safiye is bothered by Maliki's opinion of the gentler sex, she keeps her thoughts to herself and her lips tightly pursed; his depiction of the female mindset is probably more accurate than she cares to admit. She turns, showing her side to the not-quite-a-rogue as she begins moving away - parallel to the shore. "Thank you for the diversion from the heat," she says without looking back over her shoulder. "You were... amusing."
Maliki isn't quite sure how to take that. Amusing. Though she did seek entertainment and if he succeeded in such a manner, it's the least he could do for such a plump lioness. Perhaps if he were to ever run into her again, although her name may not be known, she'll have given birth to her cubs and maybe have another entertaining conversation. Who knows. The future is uncertain even for the both of them. Best he offers in parting is simple, "Be well," as he slowly lifts himself up to all fours and pad in the opposite direction. Here is not a safe place to fall asleep.
Safiye will no doubt be thinking of Maliki when she curls up amongst the roots of the old willow tree where she has chosen to give birth to her litter. His words struck a chord within her on a number of levels, and although she has only lain with one male, she cannot help but wonder if she - like Maliki suggests - would have left him in a moment of fickleness, had he not left her first. Deeply troubled, she ducks into the tall grass and disappears between the shifting shadows just as the sun touches the horizon, heralding the arrival of nightfall.
Maliki, Lion, a rogue
Safiye, Lioness, a recent addition to Kivuli
Luvuvhu Water Hole
Within the soft rustling of the tall grasses reveals the form of a gray hued form. A lion. His stride is slow, steady, even somewhat guarded as he makes his way toward the scent of water. Paws fall quietly upon the earthen floor, stopping only for the briefests of moments before continuing toward the water's edge. A careful gaze is given around him, specifically the water itself before his dry tongue connects with the cool liquid below him.
The ashen male is not the only lion to have come to the Luvuvhu for the purpose of sating their thirst. A pair of baleful eyes watches him from the opposite bank, scrutinizing his every move like a mother bird guards her nest against tree-climbing cats. So close to the birth of her first litter, Safiye distrusts everything - and everyone in spite of the kindness that the Kivuli pride has shown her; she can take no chances where her little ones are concerned. Maliki's face is one that she does not recognize, which puts her more on edge then usual as she basks in the late-evening sun, her dark gaze fixed on his lean and unfamiliar form.
Maliki quenches his thirst rapidly, eyes closing as he basks in the pleasure of the cool waters soothing his throat. Now that hits the spot! Noting the relatively muddy composition of the area around the waterhole, he soon begins to withdraw from the edge until upon dryer earth. It's then he settles back onto his haunches, paw lifting to be cleansed of some mud and used to rub along his dripping muzzle. Mid cleaning, however, his curious gaze falls upon one whom watches him from the other side? A lioness. Intent on his form and no doubt distrusting; though seeing as she does not approach nor request reasoning behind his trespass (if it is such), he can only assume she's also a visitor. His gaze connects with hers before he returns to cleaning the other paw. Mud is one thing he cannot stand; water? No problem!
If the stranger was a knight of Kivuli, Safiye is certain that he would have introduced himself as such. No, Maliki is no pridal lion; from his posture to his pelt, he has the look of a rogue about him - hard and muscular, but not muscular enough to have supped on the milk of many mothers. "You have set foot on soft earth belonging to another," she murmurs in a low, thick voice. "What do you say about that?" Although the meaning behind her words may be difficult to decipher, there's nothing accusatory about her tone. She almost sounds... amused?
In mid-lick, the rogue's gaze lifts toward the female once more. He contemplates his answer briefly before giving it, "A Lord of these lands has given me permission to drink from the waterhole here," he states, "..to quench my thirst and a moment's rest should I require." That said, and returning to finish his little grooming session, the ashen male rises back onto all fours to circle around the water's edge, stopping a far from comfortable distance from the lioness. Resettling. Afterall, he does not wish to strain his ears for her words. "And what of you?"
"I," Safiye begins, "am as much a part of these lands as that sapling." Her gaze shifts, settling upon a thin and brittle acacia, so young that it has yet to fully take root in the soil. Perched upon the tree's highest branch is a pair of egrets, their necks entwined, though neither appears to be paying the lions much mind. They groom, preening each other's snow-white feathers with the meticulous care and the quiet adoration of old lovers. "And, just as the sapling belongs to Kivuli's king, so do I." Safiye smiles, but it is not a nice smile; her black mouth is coy and full of tricks. "It would be prudent to keep your distance, stranger."
Ah, one who likes to use colorful metaphors instead of just getting to the point. Though it is a nice change at times, he'll admit, "I see," replies the male. Perhaps, then, she's a recent addition to the lands. These strange, lively lands. Kivuli. A brow perks at her additional suggestion, head tipping upward curiously as he looks the female over, "Oh?" he questions, "With young, I take it?" If so, this is quite a dangerous little area to be with such.
Safiye lowers her eyes to the bulge in her midsection and gives a languid roll of her shoulders, as if shrugging off Maliki's suggestion. "Perhaps," she concedes. "Perhaps I have eaten too much, gorged myself on the belly of a buffalo left to rot in the sun by a pack of poachers. Or perhaps I was this heavy when I slipped, mewling, out of my mother. There are a thousand different possibilities, some more flattering than others. Tell me, what does your imagination suggest?"
Maliki can't help but to turn his face away briefly, smirk creasing his lips as he chuckles softly. This one's got a sense of humor if not a bit of spice in her. With his gaze back upon her, briefly intent on her stomach before lifting his gaze, "As to not offend you, miss, I will keep such thoughts to myself." Though really, if he did get closer; what would she do? She looks to be no fighter for once. Perhaps it is her words she fights with? Quite the possibility. Still, he isn't one to do such things nor would there be any gain from it.
Now it is Safiye's turn to laugh - loud and deep and full, like a cacophonous peal of thunder. "Offend me?" She rises, the muscles rippling beneath her skin as she heaves to all fours and lets out a groan of exertion, the bulge shifting, changing like living, breathing growth. That's no meal. "Rogue, you could not offend me if you put all your effort into it. It is a hot night and I am in need of entertainment, so entertain me, be wild. I ask you again: What does your imagination suggest?"
True. What was Maliki thinking when he said that? She doesn't seem to be one easily offended. On the contrary, she's probably able to easily offend others? "If I were to do all of those things, your belly might possibly be even larger." Smirk. "No. Best I can say is you've let some rogue have his way with you nestled below him, powerless to his advances. His desires. Only to leave you like some leftover gazelle; full and satisfied." He will hand it to her, she did well in deciding on a pride to join to raise the fatherless cubs so that they may have some sort of figure, besides their mother, to look up to. But that's just his conscience rambling off.
"Males," Safiye drawls. "You're all so similar in your ways of thinking. It matters not if you are a king or a vagabond, a pampered prince or the lowly runt of a lame huntress. I have met you all, and every last one of you is the same. You live to eat, to sleep, and to lie with us. Show me a lion who views the world in a different light and I will sing him a song of praises." Now that Safiye has secured a position in Kivuli, she's beginning to let her uglier side show - the side that landed her in exile in the first place. Her upper lip lifts into a toothy sneer. "Are you lonely?"
So, he wasn't wrong in his assumption? "Not at all," answers the rogue, "Despite how nice it would be to lie with a female, yes, they're just as bad as you say we are. They drift from one male to the next in search of 'happiness'. Should the male she decided on falter in the slightest; not enough nuzzles, not enough conversation, and she'll lie with the next lion that'll show interest. Though an interesting one-sided view of us males and honestly, I'd probably agree with it." Shoudlers roll in a shrug, gaze focusing on the distance, "I would rather sit on a border, protect it, and sleep in a storm then to deal with you lionesses." That isn't the /complete/ truth but it is close enough. "Alas, I am a mere rogue and finding kings that might require an additional set of eyes on the border is rare."
The hard look on Safiye's face softens, its sharp edges melting away as she relaxes and changes her posture to something more aloof. "Perhaps you have come to the right place," she says, averting her gaze to stare into the reflection of the setting sun spread splendidly across the golden surface of the water. "His Majesty is kind, and while I doubt he is in desperate need of another knight, he may not be... opposed." The dark lioness straightens. "If the opportunity presents itself, you should speak with either Nabana or Camrath; they can assess the situation at the border far better than I."
Not a single comment on the female matter. Interesting. Maliki's ears perk at her softened words, brow lifting curiously as she speaks, "Knight?" inquires he, "Sounds like the position I was placed in within the last pride I joined up with. Although disbanded eventually, I only assume some of the members have branched out to neighboring prides here." Not a total rogue, see? "I merely would go to where I am needed," he states, "Perhaps I will talk with this Nabana or Camrath though I dare not linger longer then I am allowed and would not wish you the trouble of mentioning anything to either of them. Maybe on the border."
If Safiye is bothered by Maliki's opinion of the gentler sex, she keeps her thoughts to herself and her lips tightly pursed; his depiction of the female mindset is probably more accurate than she cares to admit. She turns, showing her side to the not-quite-a-rogue as she begins moving away - parallel to the shore. "Thank you for the diversion from the heat," she says without looking back over her shoulder. "You were... amusing."
Maliki isn't quite sure how to take that. Amusing. Though she did seek entertainment and if he succeeded in such a manner, it's the least he could do for such a plump lioness. Perhaps if he were to ever run into her again, although her name may not be known, she'll have given birth to her cubs and maybe have another entertaining conversation. Who knows. The future is uncertain even for the both of them. Best he offers in parting is simple, "Be well," as he slowly lifts himself up to all fours and pad in the opposite direction. Here is not a safe place to fall asleep.
Safiye will no doubt be thinking of Maliki when she curls up amongst the roots of the old willow tree where she has chosen to give birth to her litter. His words struck a chord within her on a number of levels, and although she has only lain with one male, she cannot help but wonder if she - like Maliki suggests - would have left him in a moment of fickleness, had he not left her first. Deeply troubled, she ducks into the tall grass and disappears between the shifting shadows just as the sun touches the horizon, heralding the arrival of nightfall.