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Ticket please?

Has no one entered for Samawatu and Waridi?

Well, just the one above me. XD I know people showed interest, but things happen.

Applying for: Zene
Player of Zene: Wotcher

Zene had been on her own since juvenile, at least until she was taken in my Tungiza's group. What happened? This is digging into her backstory, so feel free to come up with whatever you'd like.



Growing up with her mother, the single cub of her litter, Zene was an ordinary child. Though she was polite and not too much of a troublemaker, even the sweetest of cubs occasionally throw tantrums and get into spats with their parents. Zene was no different.

One such tantrum was started a particularly bright morning, as Zene’s mother prepared to go hunt. The lioness considered her daughter still too young to accompany her on hunts, and urged Zene to stay behind in the cool shadow of a tree. It would be dangerous, for both her and Zene, to have a child tagging along noisily, when stealth and silence were most needed. Their bellies would be empty that night, surely, and the mother knew it was a bad idea even if her young daughter did not understand. But Zene, her pride fueled by indignation and youth, wanted to go along with her mother and see the hunt firsthand. She was a juvenile, gosh, and completely ready to learn about all of the things adults do! Couldn’t her mother see she wasn’t a little baby anymore? Apparently not, because her mother staunchly refused to allow Zene’s company on the hunt, and left her glowering daughter behind as she moved out.

While her mother was gone, Zene stewed in her disappointment. She had just wanted to help! She never had any fun, or did cool things, or anything like that! Sitting under trees, crouching in grass, listening and waiting for safety, that’s all her mother ever wanted her to do. Well, she’d show her! A few days previously, Zene had overheard a pair of birds talking about “the gypsies.” They were a wandering mishmash group of orphans, rogues, and unloved children. All day long the gypsies sang songs, told stories, and played with each other, laughing and smiling until they were too tired to do it anymore. No stupid rules, just fun, awesome activities all day long. Zene even bet they would teach her how to hunt. Her mind set, Zene left the tree’s shadow and set out to find the gypsies, who would truly love and understand her.

A short while after Zene departed, her mother returned while dragging a freshly killed antelope. The kill was forgotten once the lioness discovered her daughter was missing, and the panicked mother began to call for her child. She followed the faint paw prints of Zene, leading her to a nearby river. Thank goodness, maybe her daughter had only come for a drink of water? She was nowhere near, though, and the trail of prints had stopped at the river’s edge. Peering across the span of the river, Zene’s mother’s breath caught in her throat at what she was. On the other side of the river, a group of crocodiles were leering at her, snapping and tugging between them at a small hunk of striped meat. A wet and dirty hunk of striped meat looked very much like a hunk of wet and dirty dead cub to a hysterical Zene’s mother, and with a strangled yell she cursed the crocodiles for taking her one and only daughter. Defeated, the lioness moved away from the river, taking her grief with her.

However, Zene was alive and well not too far away, cooling her paws as she walked along the edge of the water. When she’d reached the river she had hastily scooted down its length, not wanting to attract the attention of the crocodiles who were already tearing apart an unfortunate zebra foal. Though she hadn’t been gone from her mother for long, Zene was beginning regretting her decision. A low, unpleasant growl of hunger rolled through her stomach, and she wondered if her mother had returned from her hunt yet. She’d probably gotten an antelope, or maybe even a warthog… The thought made the choice of turning around very easy.

When she returned to the tree, Zene found the discarded antelope her mother had killed, but no mother. Her mother must have gone to find her once she returned and realized she was no longer there! She’d come back soon, and with these contented thoughts Zene dug into the antelope. But mother did not come back. Zene waited for three days before finally moving, knowing that the rotting stink of the remaining antelope would soon attract hyenas or other unsavory characters. She looked for her mother, but she was nowhere to be found. In truth, the lioness was far away, constantly moving in an attempt to outrun her grief.

Zene remained alone as she grew, never again running across her mother even by chance. She prospered on her sweetness, earning food from other travelers in exchange for kindness and sad eyes. She had never learned to hunt, ironically. When Zene met Fefe one night during a failed hunt, it was the dusky lioness who offered Zene a chance to travel with Tungiza’s group and finally teach her to hunt. She accepted, happy to be part of a family once more.

Zene will be sure not to try and find the gypsies again, though.

Applying for: Tungiza
Player of Tungiza: one over three

You recieved a vision of a lush land with Pride Rock at its center. Uneasiness follows it, but in your opinion, the positives outweigh the negatives. You do not sense anything dangerous following you as you lead the group into the Pridelands for the first time, but you are unable to shake the uneasy feeling. Describe your thoughts over what this may mean for the group you've gathered.

He'd been successful enough as a lone rogue. Brief periods of injury or illness had taken their expected tolls in turn but he'd always recovered. If not for the presence of the fair Zene he likely would have returned to life as a rogue rather then join the travelers. She was so gentle, so kind. He followed the group solely for a chance at winning her heart.

At first such selfish ideas where all he concerned himself with. The group functioned the same as it had before he'd arrived, only being impacted much at all by those who joined afterwards. Watching from the sidelines he began to notice a lack of coordination amongst his fellows. Often it would have little impact, someone would have to run to catch up with the group or would wait at the wrong meeting point. Other times it would cost them a meal. With so many mouths to feed making successful kills was important. Nothing drove this point home harder then the bickering that ensued whenever the group had to go hungry yet again.

He'd never intended to set himself up as a leader. After all, he was only making a little suggestion here, offering a new tactic there. Once he stepped in when the hijinks of Samawati and Waridi were beginning to get out of hand, and then it seemed that the others seemed to come to him whenever they had a problem. He helped whenever he could and as fairly as he could, hoping Zene would notice and think well of him for it.

Some of his impact he could see clearly. They were making kills more consistently for once. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone hungry. The full impact he was having was well invisible to him until the ground began to dry up around them. The river where they'd most recently called their home was nearly dry. The group was split between traveling up stream to find the source, or down stream in hopes of finding a lingering pond. He'd stayed out of it, not being particularly sure himself he didn't want to throw out useless opinions. The silence seemed to come out of nowhere. His entire group turned his way and one lone voice asked, "Well? What are we going to do?"

He stared back, frozen in place. He'd never made true choices! Only provided direction, discipline... Frightened, he shook his head. There was no way he could tell them that he knew no better then the smallest of cubs, but he had to say something. Any excuse to put it off.

"Stay here tonight," he'd hesitated too much in speaking and before he could speak again the group fell back into squabbling. That night, he barely slept, staying away from the main group. It wasn't until the sun broke over the horizon that the answer came to him.

A vision. A rare, but powerful experience. Across the river and through the vast plains they would find not only water but a pride, strong and numerous. They had a king. A real king, not some fish out of water like himself. They would go there, and they would thrive.

There was no doubt, no hesitation when he told them of his plan. They questioned him, naturally, both of the other plans offered had been far safer. Few wanted to take the risk. In the end his passion convinced them and they followed him onwards.

After this point he was no longer able to pretend that he was only a tag along in this group. When they brought down a kill it was his victory. When they failed, he shouldered the blame. Fearful of causing schisms he tried to avoid playing favorites and despite his best intentions nearly always came down on Zene the hardest.

As they neared their destination his dreams turned to nightmares and he could barely sleep for fear that the ever following eyes would return. Afraid of that haunting cackle. While he'd heard hyenas before the cackling in his dreams was something far removed from that waking experience and never during their journey would those two thoughts connect.

At first he passed it off on stress. He was tired. The group was growing weak, hungry, and worst of all Zene was as distant as she'd been on the day they'd met.

For a short while he thought of leaving them there and running. They would have their food, their water. Every need they complained so sorely of lacking now. Meanwhile, he would be far away from his nightmares... He was certain this feeling of dread would never leave him until he was away from this place. But his thoughts inevitably fell on the youngest and he knew that the shame of abandoning them would be one he would never be able to shake.

There was a future there. For all of them. With so many already living in the pride they would all be able to find mates. Raise families. With so many they would be protected, their cubs would be protected. He knew that if a time came when he was needed that he would fight, if only for these few.

But maybe... maybe he was being silly. It was just stress.

Hey guys, so I'm going to be out for dinner, and since I won't be able to read anything until afterwards anyways, I'm going to extend this until 6:30pm PST / 9:30pm EST tonight.

Applying for: Ubongo
Player of Ubongo: Christopher Johnson


He knew when they were born that they would break his heart. Two pups were unlucky. His old clan had known that. It was part of the reason he had left them, along with his mate. He didn't have much use for superstition.

If he had kept those bad-luck daughters in the clan, ignored their stares and whispers, Kosi would live.

If he had been there, if he had seen the lion, Ubongo would have thrown himself into its jaws to save Kosi. Now the news of her death was like word from a distant country. Kosi could not be dead. What of her mate, what of her pups? Kosi could not die and leave her own unlucky pair of pups behind. If he could only find someone in charge and explain it to them, surely they would fix this.

Ubongo could find nothing to say. He felt small, withered, as he stood before Mafuu. The rogue lands had taken his mate from him long ago, and now they had gobbled up his daughter. It didn't seem right. When his mate had died, it had just been the two of them and the pups. Five adult hyenas - him, his girls, and their mates - should be safe.

"Kosi," Ubongo said at last, his voice hardly more than a whisper. The grief had not hit him yet. It would not for several days. The loss of a daughter was too enormous, too bitter a thing to be swallowed all at once. What he did feel was rage. It was born fully fledged, driving away the feeling of stupid emptiness that had paralyzed him. One of those big cats had killed poor little Kosi. He and his family must be strong, then, as strong as lions and as many as a lion's teeth. He would find fierce brothers and sisters for his grandpups. No lions would catch them alone.


***


Applying for: Zimwi
Player of Zimwi: Christopher Johnson

She saw the land open up like a flower, the rolling savannah its petals. And her eyes moved over it like the rain. Herds, grazing in peace, flicked nervous ears as her gaze passed them. They could feel her, yes, they could feel Zimwi. Below her red snakes cut through the grassland. They zigged and zagged, crossing each others' paths to create brilliant geometric shapes that Zimwi noted dispassionately. Where they left their lines of fire the grassland fell away bit by bit, dropping into nothingness without a sound. The snakes sped up, overtaking her and moving on to the horizon, cutting apart the landscape as they went until Zimwi was left floating alone in blackness starred by the strange glowing patterns the snakes had left.

No, not quite alone. There was one with her, running always just before her. Just out of reach.

She flexed her muscles, trying to catch up with him, but she was nothing but eyes in this place. So she watched him go, noting how tall he was now, and how lovely his pale red fur was. He made no sound - he never did, not since the lion had torn his throat out all those years ago - but the echoes of his laughter rang in her memory.

And then he was dust among the strange shapes. The darkness retreated. Zimwi opened her eyes. The geometric patterns were still there, overlaid on reality, slowly sparkling into nothing. She had perhaps a few seconds of rational thought before the headache struck her.

She let out a ragged snarl at the pain and the frustration of losing sight of him once more. Swaying slightly, Zimwi rose to her paws. "More."

Her acolyte peered over at her. The crude spiral she had carved into his face was going bad. The swollen flesh pulled at his lips, tugging them into a crazed half-grin. "You're weak," he said fretfully.

"I had a vision," Zimwi said, ignoring his words. "The land will be covered in darkness, and the herds will go into nothingness. This will be." The acolyte was cowering back from her, his eyes rolling. "This will be unless I see another path for us. Now give me more." Speaking hurt. Every word, every sound, was a claw sunk deep in her brain, just behind her left eyesocket. It was an unfortunate necessity.

Zimwi lay down again as the acolyte gingerly dragged the turtle-shell bowl to her. She dipped her tongue into the bitter paste it held, reaching out one paw and laying it on the tiny skull she always kept at her side. It fit wholly under her paw. It was a pup's skull, the only one she had ever borne. He had been nameless when the lion killed him, less than two months old. Zimwi had wanted to wait, to see what the true name of his spirit was. If she caught up with him this time she would ask him.

Applying for: Mafuu
Player of Mafuu: [Eskimo]

You were the one that found your sister Kosi's dead body. The proof of a lion being at fault was everywhere; the hair, the smell, the deep, large paw prints in the dirt. What was your first reaction in seeing this?

----

Mafuu's muzzle twisted in a strange sneer of disbelief. Her entire face twisted, contorting into an expression she had never experienced.

Her head felt full and empty at the same time. Her heart felt cold, and for a split second of a moment amidst the sheer horror and surreality of what lay before her eyes, she wondered if she was going to die.

It wasn't real.

"..." The hyena opened her mouth to say her sister's name, but only a shudder of a breath came out. She wanted to move forward, but her legs felt rooted into the ground.

It wasn't real.

She had just been there. Kosi had just been there. Now she wasn't. No...it wasn't possible. How could something like this happen? How could it be real? It was fake. It was a nightmare. It wasn't real. Something like that just wasn't possible. Not her sister. It wasn't real. It just resembled her sister. It couldn't be her. That mangled body...

The strong smell of her sister's blood and lion musk choked Mafuu and she gagged, thick saliva spilling out of her shuddering maw.

It was real.

Mafuu stepped forward once. Then again, stepping into a lion's bloodied paw print. She moved slowly until she stood as close to her sister as she dared. Her head felt like it wasn't attached to her body--it was floating away. It had floated away a long time ago. She didn't have a head anymore. Her heart was too cold to be there--it was gone, too. She choked and gagged silently once more. She stepped closer and stopped.

Mafuu looked down and met her sister's blank eyes.


She was dead...

She was dead...

She was dead...

She was dead...

She was dead...

She was dead...



Mafuu was going to slaughter every lion she could find.