Post by ☽ zoketi ☾ on Aug 22, 2015 15:11:08 GMT
May the stars watch over my pride.
The day was long, and the season old. The red-eyed lioness, a brittle shell of her former glory, lay on the banks of the river. Eyes faded, fur scraggly, joints poking from under hanging skin. A yawn showed a chipped tooth. Atuzel was old. It didn't bother her anymore. When she'd been a bit younger, edging out of her prime, it had frustrated her. No longer could she battle with her pristine skills, or take down beasts like she'd done in her youth. To be honest it had frightened her a little. Now she was calm. Her temper was as red-hot as ever, but she usually couldn't be bothered with much these days. When she looked out over her pride, saw her children and her mate, she was infinitely proud.
Atuzel slowly pulled herself to aching paws, a heavy groan escaping her maw. She tilted her head back and watched her pride for a moment, then stepped forwards into the river. The cool water swirled around her dark legs and she closed her eyes. She could still swim, and so she did, paddling slowly across til she could haul herself onto the opposite shore. Shaking her fur, she hobbled forwards, ears twitching. Kasamu would box her ears if he saw her leaving camp. Her children would too, probably, but she didn't care at the moment. There was a pull in her chest. She had to leave.
She broke into a wobbly trot, pushing through the tall swaying grass. The sun was low on the horizon, the sky already touched with orange and pink as it sank. She lifted her head and continued on, even until her legs were sore and her throat dry as dust. The land was dark when she reached her destination. The sounds of night rose around her as she slowed her pace, panting.
A wizened acacia marked the spot. The lioness came to a halt, swaying slightly. She stared down at the sun-bleached bones of her once-lover. "Niveir..." she rasped sadly. She lifted a paw and touched the skull gently, closing her eyes as deep sadness welled within her. It'd been so long...but she missed him as if he'd died just yesterday. Atuzel took her paw off the bone and sat down with a thud. She was still for a long time. The moon had risen, and cast pale light over the savannah as the old female mourned again.
Finally she rose with a sigh, and padded past the tree. She knew why she was out here now. She wasn't afraid. But she was looking for something. She knew how she wanted to go. Lifting her head, she let out a bellow, which ended in a fit of coughs. And she waited, frail and alone in the night. It wasn't long before she heard the grass stir, and caught a strange scent. A male, youthful but fully grown. He announced his presence with a guttural snarl. Atuzel turned her head, catching sight of narrowed yellow eyes in the darkness. She hissed in return.
"Old one, do you mock me?" came the male's voice, soft and dangerous. He continued to move closer.
The lioness bared her teeth. "I do, yellow-eyes. Won't you take a stand against me?"
The answer was a huff, then words. "I will snap you like a twig. Last chance, flea-pelt. Get lost." Another growl rumbled from the darkness.
Atuzel shook her head. "Are you afraid to fight me?" she scoffed, her ruby eyes glinting.
That made the lion spit, and she saw the grass swish as his tail moved. "Your tongue brings you closer to death!" he called. With that, Atuzel only spat back. She saw the male advance. A flicker of regret surged through her, but she stood fast, watching him approach. The next few moments passed in slow motion. The strange lion pounced, and Atuzel reared up to meet him, but his weight was too much for her to hold. She fell back with a heavy thud on the ground. "This will be too easy," whispered the rogue.
An old spark of anger lit inside the lioness. She kicked out, creating jagged gashes on the male's underside. He howled and stumbled back. Scrambling to her paws, the old female charged at him. Her forepaws lashed out, swiping at his face, and he bellowed in response, lifting his own front legs up. Both felines earned scratches on their faces, but the male was able to gain the advantage when he shoved the lioness down. She toppled with a grunt. The yellow-eyed lion was on her instantly.
He tore her shoulder, bit into her ear, and slammed her repeatedly against the ground. Atuzel lashed out, occasionally nicking the male here or there, but her blows began to grow weaker. She'd lost count of how many times he'd slashed her open. Her pelt was stained red. Moments passed and the lioness fell limply, unable to strike out anymore. She breathed, each gasp painful. She hadn't even realized that the rogue had stopped attacking her. He'd backed away, a vile shadow hovering nearby. Her eyes were hazy as she stared at him. For a moment his face was quite solemn, or at least that's what it looked like to her.
"Sweet dreams, old one." the lion murmured, not unkindly. Then he slid into the darkness and vanished.
Atuzel lay still, bleeding out onto the soil, her sides heaving as each breath caused agony to flare through her broken body. "Kas...I'm sorry. My cubs...do not cry." she rasped. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, then she forced them open and stared at the star-strewn sky. "I'm ready, Niv. I'm ready, Kaaria." she gasped, spitting out clots of blood. A shiver went down her spine. The stars seemed to swirl above her, and for a moment, she thought she saw two faces, familiar and bright.
Atuzel grinned wickedly. She took in a breath, exhaled, and coughed. Another breath, then another, and then her chest stopped moving. Her eyes, so brilliant in color, sparkled for the last time. And they dimmed, and the old female was still.
In the sky, a fit, well-muscled dark lioness raced through the stars. She collided with a tawny male, and a peachy female, and they tumbled over into the lands beyond.