[MPRP] The Rising Son [ Gakere x Matifu ] - FIN

[Indubitably]

Publicity: Semi-Public
Weather: Heavy Rain
Location: On the fringes of the Pride

Matifu was nervous.

A flash of white teeth in the pink-orange light of a sun that had just begun to rise over the horizon, and in Gakere shifted to his paws as if he hadn't spent the past few hours lying down. He was not hidden, his frame built after the lion before him, albeit more muscular.

The old lion had been pacing, far enough away to not be a direct challenge, but it was a warning. Clear to the younger male, who had spent much time studying the elder.

Waiting.

His muscles were warm by the time he drew close, close enough to speak, his low, eerily calm and polite tones reaching Matifu's ears.

"Father," a greeting, "You don't look well." A pause, as his bright eyes briefly moved beyond the older male, to the pride far enough away to be small shapes. They could not hear them.

"Perhaps you should lie down."  

[Kaelyndra]

Matifu's pacing began to cease as Gakere closed in. His heavy footfalls had pushed the mud around his feet, making a crude, splayed path of battered earth and slippery tracks.

"You get one warning," Matifu growled after his son. If he had seemed nervous before, he certainly did not now, taking a step forwards and letting out the low, displeased rumble from the back of his throat.

His patience with this grown cub was thin. There would be no more second chances.

"Leave."  

[Indubitably]

"Ah," It was almost a laugh, and the male stretched his strong frame, apparently unintimidated by the growling threat. The serious, dark lion found himself moving, then, circling.

"I'll extend you the same courtesy." His teeth flashed. "Leave."

He could feel it in the building tension in his muscles, the way they wound, ready for a fight. Adrenaline began to flow, to make him stronger, faster, his thoughts quick and calculating.

"Your time has passed."  

[Kaelyndra]

Matifu's ears barely flicked at the way the laugh moved past them. His head, however, turned with the thread, his eyes focused on Gakere's.

He bared his own teeth. His eyes dropped lower to the footfalls. Gakere received his warning.

"Not today, son." And then, the larger of the two of them lunged. He was slower, older, the grey hairs more than freckled his muzzle, all around his eyes, but his sheer weight could still direct a heavy blow. And he was directing one now, at Gakere's face.  

[Indubitably]

Gakere had considered this day since he was a cub, his bright eyes following Matifu's movements for years, as he fought and walked. He knew his injuries, and his bad eyesight. He knew his stamina.

The younger lion had no intentions of going head-to-head, weight against muscle. Matifu was still a powerful lion. No, instead, he would tire him. He would make this fight last past the older male's endurance, and then he would finish him.

Instead of meeting Matifu's strike, and taking it, attempting to attack him as well, he deflected the blow, letting it move with his body instead of into it, reducing its damage. The momentum would continue, to a place his own frame no longer was. It calmed him, steadied him, for the fight to begin, and he became silent, swiping with a large paw only once before continuing to move.  

[Kaelyndra]

It was a strategy which worked well at first. Gakere had been pushed out with mere threat before. A few dizzying blows usually ended the situation with any young lion hot to reach territory. Matifu could make his old body move long enough and fast enough to chase them the rest of the way.

But he was not a dumb lion, and the fifth time he gave a heavy lunge, chasing Gakere through the pelting water and sliding in the mud, he stopped.

And he waited.

"You're a coward of a lion, lusizi," he growled off after the assaulter, taking in deep breaths as he watched, rotating the front of his body slowly after the movement of the other's. No, Gakere could come to him. Matifu was not yet desperate enough to follow his son's rules. Not yet.  

[Indubitably]

"And you are a fool, Father!" Their harsh words bit at the air, the rain flattening their fur and causing mud to cake to their bodies. It was clear, to them both, that Gakere had no intention of running. He would come home, whether it be the home of the earth, cold and picked by scavengers, or to take Matifu's place.

"You have brought ruin to our pride, and ruin to yourself. All that comes upon you is your own doing." He padded closer, movements slow, sure.

Who was to say how things would have gone, had he embraced his strangest son, the one whose mother had insisted on his survival? If Matifu had not made clear his intentions to slaughter his brood?

"I am your reflection," he informed the older male, before lunging violently, hurling his body toward his father's, to tangle them together.  

[Kaelyndra]

It was a mess. Their coats were both wet, caked in mud, in the rain, and after a few solid, heavy blows, it was matted together with the coagulation of blood.

Already lacking proper vision, things began to do downhill when claws had raked across Matifu's face, splitting his lip wide to reveal the teeth underneath, and taking half of his sight with it.

And while Matifu may have assumed his son a coward, Gakere certainly knew how to take a coward's advantage of a situation. Matifu had a blind side, and it proved fatal.

He did not ask to be spared, did not try to run when he fell to his foot pads and he felt himself buckle at the knees and the elbows. There was still energy left in those old bones, and Gakere would not get his throat easily.  

[Indubitably]

Perhaps there was something deeper beneath Gakere's calculating, cool eyes, his meticulous words and deliberate actions. Perhaps that was what stopped the killing blow, as he approached Matifu's wounded frame.

His own body was cut and bruised, though it did not weigh on him as heavily as the older male. Watchful, for Matifu was stubborn, and might strike him at any moment, Gakere spoke, tone quiet, weary.

"Must I kill you, Father? This is your choice. It has always been your choice."  

[Kaelyndra]

There was a loud growl in the back of the falling Abaholi's throat which formed the words, "Do not humiliate me as well." He swayed on two feet, raising his head, presenting what sharp, yellowing teeth he had left between a pulled muzzle to Gakere.

The old lion made a motion to lunge forwards, and then stopped short. His eyes glanced towards the pride, and, where his mane began at his throat, there was a visible swallow. One last look, perhaps.

Matifu dropped his head and turned his back. His steps were short, one heavy limp and first, and then they became longer. He did not look back.

Older, forced to hunt for himself, and trying to recover from wounds which became infected in the dirt and slush of down-pouring rain, Matifu did not last a week. Ironically, later, a few of his last cubs would stumble across his body while playing, and this was how they learned that the land of bone left little room for the weak.