Caoilainn had always been a tall female for her age and maturity hadn't altered that. Eldest blood-daughter of the Sliabh tribe, she had been there when each of his litters had come home, exhausted cubs and juveniles who hadn't had a clue about where they were or why their mommy wasn't with them. The first time she had been just a cub herself, but by the time the last litter of half-siblings arrived from beyond the boarder, she had been a tall and gangly adolescent, and much more equipped to comfort and explain things to them. Maybe it was having quite so many siblings around as a youngster but her maternal instincts seemed to be a lot slower to mature than her body, for she was just as much the tomboy as she had always been, even as she watched her younger sisters grow into far gentler lionesses she had felt no stirrings within her towards the same.
Perfectly content to follow her chosen career rather than spend time looking for a mate or bothering one of the pride's matchmakers to do it for her, she was happiest when out on the prowl, slinking along the boarders and beyond, eyes and ears open for any threat to the pride. She loved stretching her legs on the plains beyond the pride, the wide expanse of open ground and the sheer challenge that surviving was in such a vast area. But she always returned home, always came back to her large and loving family, and she never lost her wonder for her siblings, the memories of them so small and fragile.
On this particular day she was wandering about the outer reaches of the pride, not quite all the way on the border, but away from the main drag and populated areas. She was a loner by nature and found crowds of lions a little claustrophobic. So when she spotted the familiar white and blue coat of Saoirse she frowned. The younger lioness had been sick since she was a juve and Caoilainn was certain she wasn’t meant to be all the way out here, so far from the healer dens. Turing in her sister’s direction, Caoilainn trotted the short distance to her sister’s side, only to arrive in a much greater state of worry that she had started.
“Saoirse!” Shocked by how sick her sister looked, she instantly leaned down to nuzzle the younger female. Saoirse was flat out on her side, having gone down as Caoilainn headed towards her. She had known this whole adventure was a bad idea but she simply hadn’t been able to stay in the den. She missed Zeki so much, each day she woke up it was like a little bit of light had gone out in her world. Thoughts of him filled her mind when she was bedridden, and of late she had been sick more and more often, and so she often found herself daydreaming of the days they had been young and foolish and Zeki had always been by her side.
Having felt reasonably well earlier that morning she had decided to venture to the border of the pride, maybe he was just beyond, waiting for her, or maybe he was finally returning, coming home after a trip away that had already lasted far longer than he had suggested when he left. She couldn’t bear to think him gone for good, killed by some horrible rogue male or torn apart by a herd of angry wildebeest. So she had made her slow and painful way across the prideland to the boarder her father patrolled daily. But just as she reached hr destination a deep and violent coughing fit had grabbed a hold of her lungs and refused to let go, until she had collapsed where she stood, sides heaving and sweat streaking through her fur as she struggled to keep breathing around the deep fluid filled coughs that tore through her.
Caoilainn raced to her sister’s side then leaned down, carefully licking the wet fur of her sibling’s ear, desperately worried but wanting to let her stricken sister know she was there, that she wasn’t alone out here in the wastes. She was rewarded with a weak smile before another bout of coughing struck her sister’s body. Settling down at Saoirse’s back, the elder female stayed with her as cough after hacking cough shook her frail frame. Yet eventually the horrible coughs subsided and Saoirse was able to draw in deep shuddering breaths. When at last her sister’s breathing had calmed down to a less panicked level, Caoilainn leaned over and gently started to groom the salty sweat from her sister’s pale coat. For another hour the pair stayed there, Caoilainn tending her stricken sibling, speaking to her softly, telling her stories from Kay’s job and any other random thing she thought of. It wasn’t what she said that mattered, it was the gentle comfort of her voice as Saoirse slowly recovered.
Eventually, as evening started to darken the sky and the cool breeze ruffled through the tall grasses, Caoilainn gently helped her sister to rise. Saoirse was terribly weak from the attack, her already thin body shook with exhaustion and pain. Yet she gave her older sister a brave smile and slowly, wearily, put one foot in front of the other as the pair of them headed back towards home. The journey took far longer than it usually did for a healthy lion and the sun had long set below the horizon, giving way to a vibrant carpet of stars in the velvet blackness of night when the two sisters finally made it back to the healer dens. Caoilainn made sure the coast was clear then gently led her sister inside, settling her down on a bed of soft furs and grasses which one of the apprentice healers had set out for any who required it. Once her sister was safely settled, Caoilainn set out in search of their mother, the pride’s Master Healer, who would be able to aid the younger as much as possible, though they all knew that Saoirse would never recover from the illness, would never be the lively, vibrant youth that had once brightened this self same den with her joyful laughter and love for life.
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