Thus far, the plan had gone remarkably smoothly. It was a testament, she liked to think, to the thoroughness with which she had selected the settlers who would accompany her, and the (admittedly few) individuals who had sought to join since. That their pride was small in numbers didn't bother the Anaamrisha in the least; part of the reason the Jini-misemi had failed, in her opinion, was because growth had become a higher priority than staying true to their beliefs, to listening to the spirits and attending to what they wanted. To some degree, she could understand: when her great-grandmother had begun, she had begun from nothing, building a pride from herself and three rogues, with only childhood stories and clouded visions of the past to guide her. Even then, Asali'jua had done remarkably well, so well in fact that upon her death, she had been reincarnated as a goddess...and not only that, she had replaced a goddess. Further proof of her devotion and strength of will.
Narindima'moyo, however, had not been prepared to lead upon her death, and under his rule the pride had grown, but with the influx of rogues a murderer had slipped in, taking several lives before he was caught. It was no great surprise that, as soon as he was able, Narindima'moyo had abdicated, but he'd done so too soon; Jhonki-sahna's rule turned out to be a short one indeed, when his younger sister returned and accused his Queen and cubs of having hybrid blood. Thus had Siyarin's mother come to power, and for a time things had gone well for her...until the fire, and the move to the mountain where Siyarin was born. And eventually, La'u Khara'i had taken ill and stepped down in favor of Siyarin's older half-sister, Samudranta. So much misfortune had befallen the Jini-msemi and its rulers, and yet no one had heeded the warnings that, in hindsight, seemed clear as day, at least to Siyarin.
Frustrated - both by the drift away from what she saw as the pride's core values and purpose, and by the fact that her less-suited sibling had been elevated to the rank of Queen - she had insinuated herself into Samudranta's good graces and planted the idea that she should lead a group to scout and resettle the swamp. Trusting, obliviously cheerful Samudranta, who would never have had the stomach to do what Siyarin had done since bringing her followers to the swamp. How it would turn the colorful lioness' stomach to see her now, righting the bleached skull of a lion that had toppled off the stump on which it had been set. To be fair, not every bone adorning their border had come from a sacrifice; some they had simply found. In the beginning, especially, they had gone out looking for the foreboding artifacts Siyarin wanted to deter outsiders from entering the lands, and nothing said 'no trespassing' like the skeletal remains of the fallen - no one was going to stop and ask whether or not the Tutaamka-jivu had killed all the original owners of the skulls.
What Samudranta thought, however, was irrelevant; last Siyarin had heard, her half-sister was missing, presumed dead after a rockslide had spelled the end of the Jini-misemi for good. Finally. Three natural disasters later, not to mention other misfortunes, and someone had finally had the sense to call it quits. Some of the displaced spirit-talkers had trickled their way to the swamp since, but few had been encouraged to stay. For some, the Tutaamka-jivu was a step too far, but as far as Siyarin was concerned, it was how things should have been all along. If they had been more careful, more devoted, more willing to do what needed to be done, all the disaster and misfortune could have been avoided.
Their loss, her gain. She unsheathed and dragged her claws down the stump for good measure, an extra little touch of menace, and stepped back to admire the results. As she did, she bumped lightly against the sandy shoulder of her mate, who had followed her out to the border. She turned and raised a brow at him, and he smirked.
"Bored? Nothing better to occupy the Anaamrisha's time than rearranging our decorations?"
"I'm not rearranging them," she clarified, "I'm putting them back where they belong. There's a difference."
Another twitch of his mouth. "My mistake."
Siyarin rolled her eyes and shoved at his lithely-muscled form with a paw. "I've done worse things out of boredom."
"Like deprive yourself of sleep for...how many days was it?"
"Only two, and I didn't do it because I was bored. I wanted to know what would happen. Again, there's a difference."
Jackal - she would always think of him as Jackal, always use that name when they were alone, in spite of the fact that he had changed it - snorted. "And how much longer would you have stayed awake if I hadn't made you get some sleep?"
"Until I passed out, probably," she answered with a shrug. "Or until it got me into trouble. I'll admit, it wasn't the best idea I ever had, but it was very informative."
"You're lucky I didn't abduct you. I could have. I am a thief, after all." He was teasing, but it was true, and with as attached as he'd become to her - as in love as he now was with her - in all that time since, it was deeply disconcerting to think that if he hadn't found her, someone else might have, and done her harm. It wasn't out of the question, or even unlikely. There were prides out there that captured and enslaved others. Or worse. Now the Tutaamka-jivu were the 'or worse,' but that didn't bother him. He had Siyarin, together they had power, and if occasionally an outsider paid for that, that was acceptable.
"So you say, but what have you stolen lately?" Siyarin challenged.
As always, he was ready with a charming answer for her. "What is left for me to steal, when I have your heart?"