|
|
Post by mercury on Jun 2, 2009 12:38:25 GMT -5
Peace of mind is the most powerful and easing of the emotions. It can be like a shot of sleep to the most crazed and excited mind, and lull one into a sense of security. Great rulers, they say, are never at ease and always are watching their backs for the knives and daggers. However, some kings know how to balance the paranoia and the peace.
Take Fumbe, for example. He is no king of a great human civilization, but of a large plot of land in the middle of the unclaimed African savannah. His home was comfortable, and ever since he had defeated its old master twenty-four rotations of the moon ago, it was even more likeable. The male, now wizened by age and experience, took this land and its ladies by brute force by the courage set in his youthful heart. Back then, he would have certainly attempted to capture other territories, like the Mashariki and the Magharibi, and perhaps even the Kusini to the south. However, in his age he has grown to realize that the less land you have, the less likely that it will be taken from you.
The heavy-maned king took that saying to heart, that one which his father said to him many moons ago, and only did what was necessary to keep his prize, such as marking the ground. The sun was rising quickly and he had gone on his first round already and was sitting under an acacia tree. He let out a low rumble from the back of his throat, and slumped his golden body down in the shade. As he relaxed, knowing his home was safe, he began to wonder where his lionesses were. They did not hunt this early, and none of them were with cub. They were sure to turn up, he assumed...
|
|
|
|
Post by Phosphorus on Jun 2, 2009 16:42:13 GMT -5
The tall grass a short distance from the tree had suspicious aura about it. A close look would reveal nothing. A curious search would lead one to come face to face with a stone gazed lioness, intently watching something a ways away. A hoard of vultures was smothering an old carcass, voraciously prying meat from it's bones. A bird occasional fussed at the other, raising it's wings in a display of annoyance. But within moments all went back to feasting or impatiently waiting their turn.
Such a display rather sickened Paka. A hard earned kill by the pride only to be left to be picked by lowly scavengers. She had half the mind to go and shoo them all away, but even in her hard headedness she knew that they'd probably give a half hearted flutter away only to come back within seconds. There certainly was enough of them their. But perhaps pouncing out at them would at least ease her mind a little, knowing that she gave a valiant attempt instead of sitting back like a cub and whining pitifully.
Seconds after this mental decision was made, a golden blur erupted from the grass, disrupting any sort of calm that had laid just moments before. The vultures took flight in terror at this roaring beast coming after them, however not so they so frightened that they moved more than a couple yards away. After all of the buzzards had removed themselves from the corpse, Paka stood by and glared at every single one of them, daring for one to come back and try her.
[/size][/font] |
|
|
|
Post by mercury on Jun 2, 2009 17:08:35 GMT -5
The older male took a deep breath of air; the scent of an old carcass still hung in the air. The lionesses had killed the beast a week or so ago, and they had eaten a good portion of it. Fortunately, his pride's small size meant that more food could go into each mouth, which mean at the end healthier pride members. This too eased his mind, that his family was well-fed. Even his youngest cubs, although still suckling, had full bellies and were happy. They were most likely with their mothers right now, under the shade of another tree. The carcass was abandoned from major consumption, but they all would occasionally pick at it throughout the day.
A flutter of feathers and panicked calling of vultures made the male just curious enough to lift his head from the grass and dirt that was his pillow. A golden blur, despite its similarity to the shade of the grass, convinced him that the streak had to be one of the lionesses. The roar that accompanied it was another hint, of course, but he wanted to use all his senses to figure out who it was. Didn't smell like a mother of his cubs; he knew each of them by name and smell. There was one lioness who did not come into season, and he too knew her mainly from her appearence; that stump of a tail was a dead giveaway.
Rising to his feet, Fumbe shook his massive mane of leaves and twigs, and turned to the direction of where the blur stopped. He couldn't help but feel proud of Paka; she was a skilled huntress and had indominable courage. Her liking of danger, however, made him worry a great deal about her. Long did he know the story of how she lost her tail, and he didn't want a repeat episode. He let out a low chuffing noise to indicate that he was nearby:
Are those damned vultures by the carcass again?, Fumbe said in his deep voice, If only they were as frightened of your voice as I was, Paka.
|
|
|
|
Post by Phosphorus on Jun 2, 2009 18:27:30 GMT -5
"Aren't you a funny one," she growled lowly in response, refusing to look back to the larger, older lion. Her eyes were concentrated on the vultures, and that's where they were to stay. They weren't the stupidest of creatures; they were well aware when a lion averted it's attention else where. And that's when they came creeping back. It only took a moments glance away for them to swarm once more.
"You know, we wouldn't have this problem if you'd actually protect the meat," she added haughtily, "It's my job to kill, not sit and play baby sitter to scrap of meat." Her words, however, were mostly empty. She was annoyed with the vultures, not with Fumbe, but her words came laced with sarcasm for the sake of being able to do so, or perhaps to take a jab at him. Had she not chased off the birds she would've been annoyed with herself, anyway, not him. As far as she was concerned she had to do whatever job wasn't being done by another lion, no matter how daunting the task.
[/font][/size] |
|
|
|
Post by mercury on Jun 2, 2009 20:22:29 GMT -5
I apologize for sounding like I was joking, Fumbe replied, expression concerned. He stood clear from Paka; he knew that lionesses, when angry or upset, were prone to lashing out. Especially towards the males, who most of them saw as slobs and took the bounty of their work. The king himself always wondered why males never hunted; the ones that he knew that helped back in his own pride were much fitter than his own father and uncle, who lounged around all day. The golden cat found that catching rabbits and other small animals and giving them to the cubs helped his public status to the mothers, but Paka was a tougher nut to crack.
I appreciate your efforts, Paka, he then continued, But that meat isn't worth wasting your energy. It's stripped down to the point where we can't salvage much more than bones from it. I am no lioness, and I have been told how hard it is to fell such a great beast; I did so once when I was around twenty-four moons old. If I were you though, I would save my time and let the vultures cleasn it up. He knew he was going to get reprimanded for that one. What else was he supposed to say; I'm sorry that vultures exist and eat leftovers? He really did appreciate her enthusiasm, but guarding something that wasn't worht guarding may be a tad extreme. Not like he would ever admit it, unless he wanted another scar.
|
|
|
|
Post by Phosphorus on Jun 3, 2009 14:00:53 GMT -5
The lioness finally looked back to the male, a glint of annoyance evident in her eyes. As predicted, the vultures took this as a cue to start slowly creeping back, as if the lions would not hear their soft shuffles of feet. "While that may be so," she growled, "maybe if they were chased off enough they'd learn that they weren't welcome here, and that they should go bug a pride that cares a little less." She sat down, allowing the birds to creep closer. "Could you imagine a time when there's a famine and food such as this is what we must survive on? It's not just a little useless scrap anymore. Every lion in the pride would be smothering this last little scrap of food just as these wretched things are." She turned her head and gave an angry snarl, easily persuading the vultures to retreat back to their previous observation point.
[/font][/size] |
|
|
|
Post by mercury on Jun 3, 2009 14:28:09 GMT -5
The lion took a few heavy steps closer to Paka, sitting down at three feet away from her. He knew what she was talking about; famine, disease, and death were always a pawstep away from all creatures, not just lions. However, it was the season where it rained, and rain meant life. There was bounty everywhere, and if there ever was a famine, that meat that Paka was protecting so dearly would either be entirely decomposed or not good to eat anymore.
In times of famine, I would see this behavior to be a vital process, he then replied, I would even try to catch those vultures who would attempt to steal the hard-earned kill and eat them as meat. I have lived through famine in my cubhood and know of its ravages; the dry season has killed any of my siblings and cousins. That is why I thank the sun and stars that right now we are in a time of plenty, and do not have to worry of pestilence and death.
As well, Fumbe said in a rumbling sigh, No matter how many time we all would roar and snap at them, those vultures would never learn.
|
|
|
|
Post by Phosphorus on Jun 3, 2009 15:24:30 GMT -5
"If you so insist," she said as allowed the vultures to creep even closer. "But I believe that anything can learn it's place." And with that she gave a leap and a swat of a paw at a designated vulture, snapping it's neck in the process. It didn't have the pleasure of an immediate death, but instead flailed about in a ridiculous fashion with it's wings outstretched. It's fellow birds darted off further this time and watched the whole affair, perhaps in a bit of horror. "Disgusting as they are, I bet they'll be back to feast on it the poor bastard's corpse."
[/size][/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by mercury on Jun 3, 2009 15:54:14 GMT -5
Fumbe watched Paka's actions with little to no remorse for the bird. A value for life was different than a loyalty to ones pride members. He got too close; that's what happened to the mouse that Fumbe killed as a cub and the gazelle that Chidi felled all by herself at her first hunt. He let out another sigh, a rumbling noise forming in the back of his throat. It wasn't a growl; more like a noise of contentment.
Unfortunately, that is the case, the male replied to Paka, Vultures are strange creatures. It seems as if they forget too fast. I remember chasing them for fun as a cub. They could have easily picked me up with their talons and carried me off to eat, but they always flew away whenever my father roared. I would chase them the second after he cried; it was good fun. They will forget that this poor creature was one their companion and feast on his meat and pick at his bones.
|
|
|
|
Post by Phosphorus on Jun 4, 2009 13:09:36 GMT -5
Paka lazily plopped down on the ground, her body giving a soft 'thump' as it hit. "You always talk about when you were a cub, don't you? I swear that's all I ever hear about. It surely seems that you're capable of relating any moment of the now to the moment of the past." She gave a yawn, "Makes life seem sort of boring, doesn't it, if every things the same from day to day." Sure, she herself occasionally old stories of her youth, but they were fun stories, and usually told to the cubs. There typically wasn't deep reminiscing going about during these stories, either. She did it to amuse the little ones with the adventures that she had had.
[/font][/size] |
|
|
|
Post by mercury on Jun 4, 2009 13:34:35 GMT -5
Fumbe let out a chuff in amusement, turning his head down to the lioness. She did have a point of course; relating stories of the past to those of today seemed to be his specialty. That was how stories were told back in his pride, and all that his aunts ever did. They would chastise him for bad behavior by telling him about what happened to them at his ages; some of the stories scared him straight.
I do, don't I? the male chortled, It's easier to relate to than now. I have only known you lionesses for a short period of time, and if I told any stories about you I would have my face scarred up for all the slaps you would give me. The cubs like them, and your stories too, Paka."
|
|
|
|
Post by Phosphorus on Jun 4, 2009 21:17:31 GMT -5
"A short while of knowing me it may be been," she said, giving a roll of the eyes, "but that doesn't mean I need to know your life history every time some sort of event occurs." She gave a sigh and closed her eyes. Now she was probably going to have to lay there and listen to him tell her some other story of some sort. And what was she to do, just tell him to buzz off? Though there was the potential for that idea to work... Well, if it didn't the results could have been ugly for either party.
"How many of the cubs do you think will survive, hm? [/size][/font] |
|
