Post by Onya on Oct 15, 2006 13:35:19 GMT -5
Just some brief RP, between Raiyan and Zira:
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Perhaps he should have come sooner, at the same time as Ausikifa; what he might have done then, no one can say. But those events are in the past now and whatever might have kept him before doesn't hold him back now. Raiyan pauses at a small crest, taking in the sight of the slowly setting sun, before moving forward again. Languid - but not leisurely - are his steps as he approaches, seemingly relaxed and at ease. Yet he keeps alert, ready, well aware of the minor traces of aggression left in Ausi's wake. Of the aggression this pride seems to show regardless. His paws take him directly towards the Mbaamwezi Queen, ignoring the others that may be around.
The few leonines gathered around the waterhole, most of them cubs, notice the approaching Raiyan one by one, the dull chatter at the waterside ceasing to silence. Zira casually rolls onto her paws, taking a few steps towards the lion until they are a respectable distance apart. The Queen's behavior is subtly different around this Seth-follower as compared to Ausikifa, possibly due in part to Raiyan's calmer demeanor. "Welcome back, Raiyan. I expect you've heard the news already, and have already come to your own decisions." No questions are asked outright, but Zira's greeting gets straight to the point.
The mild tension in the air seems to reflect what is perhaps on the minds of those here - what's going to happen next? Raiyan doesn't spare a glance for the rest of the pride. His somber gaze remains upon Zira, head lowered just slightly; he hasn't slept too well the past few days but he does an admirable job of hiding it. "I've heard," he answers, nodding once. He knows she expects more and he's spent some long hours deciding how best to proceed. "I followed Seth because he saved my life, when I was younger," he states, leaving out the fact that he had to learn that their beliefs varied greatly. "Someone in your pride robbed me of the chance to redeem myself." The last sentence is said with a wry smile and a shake of his head. "As for Ausikifa, perhaps it's best that we have parted...though there may come a time when he asks me to pay my debt to him, in exchange." He doesn't expect anyone else to really understand -- there's plenty about their ways here he still doesn't get.
"I doubt Ausikifa was too concerned with being specific about who killed his father, but I will say that it was not done nor was it authorized by myself," Zira adds as a disclaimer, even if it is somewhat of a moot point at this stage. Even so, Raiyan is a bit more level-headed than Ausikifa, and the Queen isn't going to give up just yet. "Your leader is dead; you are no longer bound to this pride. A pity, in my opinion. You would have made quite the respectable warrior among us. Nonetheless, I will hope you leave more peacefully than Ausikifa did - I do not wish for ill will to come between us, Raiyan." The less enemies, the better. Especially with Kivuli brewing on the horizon; she doesn't need spy information from her former guards to figure that at least some form of retaliation will come.
Therein lies the conflict; Mbaamwezi was - is - the only pride that may have him around. Kivuli wouldn't have a thing to do with the lion that attacked their King and their surrounding allies are likely to feel the same. His white-tufted tail sways briefly with the thought before slumping with a sigh of resignation. "I will leave peacefully, so long as the rest of your pride allows it and...perhaps our paths won't ever have to cross under aggression." He doesn't yet turn away though, apparently not finished. Lifting his head, fixing his blue-eyed gaze on Zira though the mess of overhanging mane, his tone becomes a bit more business-like, with a good deal less expression. "I've still a last act to the pride that I owe you; a report, on Kivuli."
A pity indeed. The Queen dips her head in a 'go ahead' gesture, her crimson eyes trained on the male.
Simple as that. "I couldn't find if they ever had any official plans. The pride is quiet and distracted and potentially looking at disarray in its ranks," he begins, speaking slowly, words measured, almost reluctant. "There are those that are ready to take things into their own paws, due to the lack of action from the King. And there are those who remain fiercely loyal to the royal family, regardless." Raiyan pauses, glancing skyward briefly, uneager to continue. But, if nothing else, he is loyal to a fault, measuring his self-worth by that and a few other related traits. "Their King is sick or weak and the pride is currently left without much of a leader." As before, he speaks slowly, yet this time, his voice is softer and his eyes downcast. But as the last word is said, he looks up, not for approval or otherwise from Zira, but merely to see himself released.
Zira's red eyes flicker at the bit about a weakened king, instantly filing it away in a part of her mind that she'll definitely be reviewing soon. But the Queen is not completely lacking in intuition. "You did not want to tell me about the weakened state of affairs in Kivuli. But you did regardless. I will not ask why if you do not wish to tell me. Nevertheless, you may consider yourself honorably discharged from the Mbaamwezi, having served your duties to the end. Farewell, Raiyan. Should you ever wish to return to these lands, there will be a place for you among the Mercenaries." A bit of a morbid offer, even as high-up as it is in the ranks, when you think about it.
Such as it is, the offer is something that Raiyan will continue to consider, merely because a lonely path isn't something he's looking forward to. So he came to this land - a vagabond - and so he'll leave. The desert lion bows his head, the horse-like mane on his neck and shoulders rolling forward. There is no congenial farewell, no wish of peace or prosperous days. "May your tribe stay above the sands," he says as he turns, voice toneless, holding a tinge of the native-accent he's managed to keep from most everyone. Striding away, Raiyan lifts his head slightly, paws once again measuring the pace towards the borders.
==============================================
Perhaps he should have come sooner, at the same time as Ausikifa; what he might have done then, no one can say. But those events are in the past now and whatever might have kept him before doesn't hold him back now. Raiyan pauses at a small crest, taking in the sight of the slowly setting sun, before moving forward again. Languid - but not leisurely - are his steps as he approaches, seemingly relaxed and at ease. Yet he keeps alert, ready, well aware of the minor traces of aggression left in Ausi's wake. Of the aggression this pride seems to show regardless. His paws take him directly towards the Mbaamwezi Queen, ignoring the others that may be around.
The few leonines gathered around the waterhole, most of them cubs, notice the approaching Raiyan one by one, the dull chatter at the waterside ceasing to silence. Zira casually rolls onto her paws, taking a few steps towards the lion until they are a respectable distance apart. The Queen's behavior is subtly different around this Seth-follower as compared to Ausikifa, possibly due in part to Raiyan's calmer demeanor. "Welcome back, Raiyan. I expect you've heard the news already, and have already come to your own decisions." No questions are asked outright, but Zira's greeting gets straight to the point.
The mild tension in the air seems to reflect what is perhaps on the minds of those here - what's going to happen next? Raiyan doesn't spare a glance for the rest of the pride. His somber gaze remains upon Zira, head lowered just slightly; he hasn't slept too well the past few days but he does an admirable job of hiding it. "I've heard," he answers, nodding once. He knows she expects more and he's spent some long hours deciding how best to proceed. "I followed Seth because he saved my life, when I was younger," he states, leaving out the fact that he had to learn that their beliefs varied greatly. "Someone in your pride robbed me of the chance to redeem myself." The last sentence is said with a wry smile and a shake of his head. "As for Ausikifa, perhaps it's best that we have parted...though there may come a time when he asks me to pay my debt to him, in exchange." He doesn't expect anyone else to really understand -- there's plenty about their ways here he still doesn't get.
"I doubt Ausikifa was too concerned with being specific about who killed his father, but I will say that it was not done nor was it authorized by myself," Zira adds as a disclaimer, even if it is somewhat of a moot point at this stage. Even so, Raiyan is a bit more level-headed than Ausikifa, and the Queen isn't going to give up just yet. "Your leader is dead; you are no longer bound to this pride. A pity, in my opinion. You would have made quite the respectable warrior among us. Nonetheless, I will hope you leave more peacefully than Ausikifa did - I do not wish for ill will to come between us, Raiyan." The less enemies, the better. Especially with Kivuli brewing on the horizon; she doesn't need spy information from her former guards to figure that at least some form of retaliation will come.
Therein lies the conflict; Mbaamwezi was - is - the only pride that may have him around. Kivuli wouldn't have a thing to do with the lion that attacked their King and their surrounding allies are likely to feel the same. His white-tufted tail sways briefly with the thought before slumping with a sigh of resignation. "I will leave peacefully, so long as the rest of your pride allows it and...perhaps our paths won't ever have to cross under aggression." He doesn't yet turn away though, apparently not finished. Lifting his head, fixing his blue-eyed gaze on Zira though the mess of overhanging mane, his tone becomes a bit more business-like, with a good deal less expression. "I've still a last act to the pride that I owe you; a report, on Kivuli."
A pity indeed. The Queen dips her head in a 'go ahead' gesture, her crimson eyes trained on the male.
Simple as that. "I couldn't find if they ever had any official plans. The pride is quiet and distracted and potentially looking at disarray in its ranks," he begins, speaking slowly, words measured, almost reluctant. "There are those that are ready to take things into their own paws, due to the lack of action from the King. And there are those who remain fiercely loyal to the royal family, regardless." Raiyan pauses, glancing skyward briefly, uneager to continue. But, if nothing else, he is loyal to a fault, measuring his self-worth by that and a few other related traits. "Their King is sick or weak and the pride is currently left without much of a leader." As before, he speaks slowly, yet this time, his voice is softer and his eyes downcast. But as the last word is said, he looks up, not for approval or otherwise from Zira, but merely to see himself released.
Zira's red eyes flicker at the bit about a weakened king, instantly filing it away in a part of her mind that she'll definitely be reviewing soon. But the Queen is not completely lacking in intuition. "You did not want to tell me about the weakened state of affairs in Kivuli. But you did regardless. I will not ask why if you do not wish to tell me. Nevertheless, you may consider yourself honorably discharged from the Mbaamwezi, having served your duties to the end. Farewell, Raiyan. Should you ever wish to return to these lands, there will be a place for you among the Mercenaries." A bit of a morbid offer, even as high-up as it is in the ranks, when you think about it.
Such as it is, the offer is something that Raiyan will continue to consider, merely because a lonely path isn't something he's looking forward to. So he came to this land - a vagabond - and so he'll leave. The desert lion bows his head, the horse-like mane on his neck and shoulders rolling forward. There is no congenial farewell, no wish of peace or prosperous days. "May your tribe stay above the sands," he says as he turns, voice toneless, holding a tinge of the native-accent he's managed to keep from most everyone. Striding away, Raiyan lifts his head slightly, paws once again measuring the pace towards the borders.
