Asante was growing restless. She had, by any standard, an idyllic life, and she always had. She had a mother and father who loved each other and their many children deeply, who had always taken care of them, given them everything they needed, and raised them in peace and with kindness. She had a pride, the Shrinekeepers, which she had joined with her parents and one of her sisters, and into which their younger siblings had all been born. If anyone there found their family strange, she had never heard any whisper of it. And though she hadn't known it when she was young, they were strange: her father was a lion, and her mother was a wild dog. Her mother, of course, wasn't her biological mother - that as impossible, as far as she knew, though she wondered whether their was a god capable of assisting with such matters - but Bashasha was her mother in every way that mattered. Her father was indeed her biological father, and while Bashasha had always been a rogue prior to settling in the Ulili-Mlindaji, Jibwa'jamani had come from a pride known as the Jini-misemi. He was, in fact, the son of the Queen, or at least a lioness who had once ruled. He had been born to her fourth litter and never expected to succeed her - the title of King had ultimately gone to a brother from her first litter, a lion named Narindima'moyo, and rulership had continued to pass on through his descendants.
She knew all this because in the years since, other Spirit-talkers had found their way to the Shrinekeepers. As it happened, even Narindima'moyo had visited after abdicating his throne, and as a result Asante had ended up with cousins. On the few occasions that he had come to visit them, he had seemed to her a sad and somber lion, upon whom the weight of life was heavy. If that was what being King did to someone, she was glad that duty had never fallen upon her father; instead, he was living a peaceful life with his happy, if unconventional family, the very reason he had left the pride of his birth, who had not accepted any relationship that was not lion with lion. In Asante's understanding of the outside world, groups as open and accepting as the Ulili-Mlindaji were rare. It made her sad.
And yet here she was, in the outside world for the first time in a very long time. The peace of pridal lands had somehow become stifling, and she needed out, even if it was just for a little while. She blamed her younger brother Roho, who had recently left after finding himself a lovely mate, a little cheetah who was perfect for him. Asante was happy for him, and quietly pleased to see that her canine sibling had found himself his own unconventional relationship (Shirin, too, had come from a family that was outside the norm); their odd family would continue to be odd, and even more importantly, happy. She hoped that they would visit, especially if they had children. Little cheetah nieces and nephews would be adorable...
Was she jealous? Was that why she suddenly didn't want to stay still anymore when she had once been so content? Whatever the reason, she was restless, and she didn't like it. In pursuit of answers to a question that wasn't even fully formed, she had struck out on a journey into the world beyond the pride's borders. She wasn't leaving, no, she didn't want that, but she needed to see...something. Do something. She had made her way to the territory once occupied by the Jini-msemi, guided by the many stories she had heard; her father was far from the only lion in the Ulili-Mlindaji with roots in the swamp. Even more had arrived recently, more relatives she hadn't known she had, carrying news that the ancient pride had disbanded after a string of misfortune from the swamp to new mountain lands, so they had finally called it quits. It was sad, in a way, that something so old had ended, but mostly Asante was glad that the pride that would have looked upon her family as such a terrible affront to nature was no longer.
But here she stood, the recovering remains of the wildfire-burned lands in sight. They were not, however, abandoned, nor was she alone.
"Looking for something?" came a voice to her left, startling her from the thoguhts that had so consumed her she had not noticed the approach of a lithe male lion.
"I-" she bgean, but could only stare wide-eyed at him as she struggled to find words in the midst of her surprise.
"Ah, please forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you." The red-eyed lion paused a respectful distance away to give her space in case she was uncomfortable, and sat to make himself even less potentially threatening. If this stranger had wandered so close to the Tutaamka-jivu a week earlier, she might actually have been in danger, but with the new moon passed, the Wanatisha wouldn't be looking for another sacrifice so soon. Even then, on closer inspection, he doubted she would have been in danger at all. The sun-shape on her back marked her unmistakably as a descendant of Asali, though whether she was descended from the mortal queen Asali'jua or the goddess Mama Asali was impossible to tell. "My name is Arth-lobhi."
"A-Asante," she responded, finding words again as her nerves settled. "I...guess you could say I'm looking for something, maybe. My father was born here, a long time ago, and I wanted to see if for myself. I'd heard the lands were abandoned."
"Not anymore," Jackal answered, "But you'd be welcome here, if you wanted. There is always a place for another child of Asali in the Tutaamka-jivu."
Asante blinked at him. "How do you know that?"
"That you're descended from Asali? The marking on your back gives it away. You have no shortage of family here."
"Oh, I...oh." She had not been expecting this, not at all. She'd just meant to wander around a bit and then go home. It was rather overwhelming. "I have a family, though, and a home. I wouldn't want to stay, I just wanted to see where my father was from..."
"I understand," he said with a nod. "We don't usually allow visitors, but I suspect the Anaamrisha would be willing to make an exception for family."
"No, no, that's alright," Asante decided, shaking her head. If this pride was anything like the old one, she didn't want to meet them, even if she had relatives among them.
"Very well, then. May you find whatever it is you seek, Asante." She took her leave then, and he watched her go until she was out of sight. She seemed nice enough, innocent even, and it was probably better that she hadn't stayed.