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 Posted: Wed Dec 29, 2010 5:37 pm
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Posted: Wed Dec 29, 2010 6:30 pm
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Posted: Wed Dec 29, 2010 7:49 pm
.:. Young Shrinekeep .:.
Username: Kaisanti
Lioness's Name: Kivuli'maono
Meaning: Shadowed Vision (named by her mother on the eve of her birth)
Personality: Kivuli is a quiet, soft spoken and perhaps overly polite young lioness who takes her job as a shrinekeeper very seriously. She is fully devoted to the Loa and their Hounfor, seeing the land as sacred and the items as precious, but not for their material worth, rather for their spiritual meaning and symbolism. To disappoint the Loa is her greatest fear, second is disappointing her mentor. She holds herself to an impossibly strict standard and strives for perfection and grace in everything she does, believing that even when she is away from the Hounfor and the shrinekeeper's dwelling area, everything she does and says reflects not only on her, but the other shrinekeepers and the Loa themselves.
History: Kivuli was born into the pride, as her mother was before her. The elder lioness had also been a shrinekeep and had held her work as sacred and precious. Yet the elderly female had died just as Kivuli grew from a cub to a juvenile, and while their parting was a sad time, it had not been unexpected, for Kivuli's mother had been ill for some time and had told Kivuli that the loa were calling her away. The young cub already knew she would be a shrinekeep and follow in her mother's pawsteps. As soon as she as old enough, she went to the Head shrinekeeper and asked to be taken as her apprentice. (Hope to plot with 'motherly shrinekeep' here). From the day her mother died, Kivuli took up the older female's mantle and strove to be a good and reliable servant to the Loa, training herself to be calm and gracious in any circumstance, to never raise her voice and to know every Loa and every Hounfor as well or even better than she knew herself.
Prompt Number: #1
Prompt Response: Sighing softly as she caught sight of the poupe, the young shrinekeep dropped her gaze back to the feathers she was carefully arranging. The young male was always coming to talk to her and it made her nervous. Well, not nervous exactly, but.. uncomfortable, she supposed was the right term. It wasn't that she disliked male attention really, but it seemed so... inappropriate, since he always came over to see her and never her to see him, their 'meetings' such as they were, took place on the shrinekeeper's land. She felt that his words and suggestive actions were frivolous and unseemly when they were so close to the Hounfor, as if the spirits could look down and see them. The thought of her beloved Loa thinking ill of her for any reason put the young female in a state of mild distress, and the idea that one male's brief and careless attention might make the spirits think bad of her was almost enough for her to confront him and tell him to leave. Yet... that was not her way, and not the way taught to her by the head shrinekeep nor by Mama. So it was that she carefully finished setting the feathers into place before she rose to her paws and politely waited for him to arrive. Maybe this time she would find the words to gently but firmly request he pass on by.
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Posted: Wed Dec 29, 2010 11:03 pm
I am advertising for my SEVENTEENTH day!
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 7:11 am
.:. Wise Medsen Fey .:.
Username: MoonRazor
Lion's Name: Eran
Meaning: “watchful”
Personality:
True to his name, Eran is ever watchful, with a tendency to keep an eye on everything around him. His first instinct upon entering any new place is to scout out the lay of the land, locate possible exits, as well as study and analyze every living creature present. Very little escapes his awareness and he is constantly conscious of any and all changes or movements in his immediate vicinity. His perceptiveness, combined with his quick and accurate memory suggests intelligence of untold proportions, though he rarely, if ever, finds the need to divulge such information.
As a result of this almost OCD-like impulse to watch his surroundings, Eran seldom initiates eye contact with others. His gaze tends to flit restlessly about, keeping track of everything around him. When he does maintain eye contact, however, he holds the other’s gaze with a stark, unblinking stare that has an eerie ability to make others uncomfortable. At times, it almost seems as though he takes some perverse kind of pleasure in watching others squirm under his gaze.
He can come off as rather brusque with most, often answering with short, blunt responses. He can be cold to strangers to the point of seeming somewhat intimidating, but often becomes a different lion entirely once the initial walls are broken down. However, he is for the most part an accurate judge of character, and because he trusts his instincts completely, he will rarely deviate from said judgment. Eran has been known to take a strong dislike or distrust of another creature, and he does not bother to hide his feelings for the sake of making others feel better about themselves.
His world is one of tough love, and he refuses to coddle others. Eran is a strong believer of toughing things out, and uses this belief to push others to become better. His emotions are buried deep, and though he does form the occasional bond with other creatures, he will rarely verbalize them, or even show them in any way. These rare bonds tend to be so strong, however, that he can trust the other half of the relationship to understand him and recognize his pride when it is applicable.
History:
Eran’s parents came together as the result of a love potion. Theirs was a difficult partnership, riddled with arguments and obstacles of all sorts. For the longest time, it seemed as though their love was simply not meant to be. They were on the brink of relinquishing their dream when, on a whim, they turned to the Medsen Fey and asked him for a love potion. The results of the potion were beyond anything they had imagined, and within a moon, they were married and expecting a litter.
That litter, their first, was something of a disappointment. Out of the two cubs that were born, one was stillborn. Because Eran was the only child, the parents pushed all of their hopes onto him.
Deeply taken by the Medsen Fey’s powers, Eran’s parents had their hearts set on him becoming one almost from the moment he was born. Without much of a choice, the cub grew up expecting to become a Medsen Fey, in accordance to his parents’ wishes.
Eran’s was a childhood filled with parental pressure. Always, they asked him to be better, to be stronger, to be smarter.
When he was on the brink of becoming a juvenile and taking on his rank name, his mother died. Her death hit Eran’s father hard, and became but a ghost of who he was before. The only thing left to motivate him was Eran’s progress, which he threw himself into aiding until he, too, passed away when his son was an adolescent.
Prompt Number: One
Prompt Response:
Those damn baboons.
Eran cursed the creatures every time he was forced to have dealings with them. They were sneaky, manipulative, slimy little bastards. They were, he hated to admit, too smart for their own good. They were also the best and worst part of his job.
There was something about dealing with the fickle creatures that both irritated him and thrilled him—the failure that lurked in wait for him, should he play his cards wrong, never failed to excite him. It was a challenge that existed always, perhaps the only part of his job that really challenged him anymore, and every day he felt a pump of adrenaline at the mere thought of it.
Today, as always, Eran padded to the base of the dried, twisted old tree and uttered a high, chirp-like sound to summon his contact. Every muscle was tense, his body ready to react at the slightly sign of trouble. His eyes scanned the neighboring trees, traced the cracked lines in the ground, marked the length of the shadows cast onto the land. Everything was as it should be.
Then his contact appeared. The baboon chattered, loping to the tree before leaping, reaching for the lowest branches and swinging up to relative safety. “You early,” the primate remarked, bursting into a fit of giggles. Then, as abruptly as they came, the giggles subsided and the baboon pointed to Eran, fidgeting with the fingers on one hand. “What you get me?”
The lion uttered a low growl, dipping into the shell hung around his neck to withdraw the usual payment—two slender leaves, freshly picked and pierced through the middle with the thin, pointed bone of a vulture. It was a token payment, nothing more, but it not only authenticated their tenuous agreement, it also presented an homage of sorts from Eran to the baboons that the creatures were more than happy to accept. This was worth more to them than any trinket of value that he could have brought.
“This it?” The baboon chattered his disapproval with a small tsk and a frown. He plucked the leaves from Eran’s mouth, holding them up to the sunlight. “This no good, Eran. No good ‘nuff.”
“This all you get, Abil,” the dark lion snapped in return, falling into the broken baboon speech that he had grown so accustomed to. “No more you get.” He pulled his lip back to show his teeth, opening his mouth to show the baboon his thick fangs. “You still owe me, remember?” Eran added, reverting back to the more regular speech of lions. “You took my bracelet for your brother. I still haven’t settled that score with you.”
Abil fell into another fit of giggles, shook his head. “Okay okay,” he said at the mention of his brother, swinging down from the tree. He somersaulted upon hitting the ground, sprang back upright, and turned, preparing to lope off. “I call, he come,” he said, bobbing his head. “You follow, yah? You foller.”
Eran remained where he was. “You helping me then? You and your brother. Both of you are helping me make the dlo benit.”
The baboon came to a halt, nodding vigorously and gesturing for Eran to follow. “Is good, is good. He help ya, yah? My brother help.” He hopped up and down on the spot, waving the pierced leaves wildly in the air.
“You both help.” Eran said coldly, pulling his lip back once more to show his teeth. He meant business here, and he was not about to budge before getting exactly what he wanted. “You and brother both.”
“Okay okay,” Abil sighed and rolled his eyes, though a light came on in his eyes at the sight of the lion’s fangs. “You come, you come. I help you. Come, come.”
After a moment’s consideration, Eran padded forward. A verbal contract had been established, and Abil would not go back on his word. The baboons were slippery, sly creatures, but they had honor, however little, and Eran had enough trust in that to follow. He caught up to the baboon, who had stuffed the vulture bone sideways into his mouth and was running along on all four lanky limbs.
“Hey, hey,” the lion said, pulling his tongue back to make a click and gain the primate’s attention. “My bracelet. I get back, hm? Your brother give bracelet. Bracelet, mine, mine. I want back.”
A muffled hoot of laughter erupted from the baboon’s mouth. Abil shook his head with mirth and went on loping.
Eran suppressed a sigh and a growl of frustration. He would settle the score another time.
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 7:49 am
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 8:36 am
.:. Custom Concept .:. Username: MoonRazor
SoA's Name: Zelophehad
Meaning: “First born” or “Shadow from terror”
Gender: Male
Species: Lion
Age: Adult
Rank: Bokor
Personality: Ambitious and power-hungry, Zelophehad will do anything to ensure that his place in history is firmly secured. He wants to be known not only as a one of his family’s impressive line of Bokors, but also the best. By the best, he means the darkest, the cruelest, the most powerful. His thirst for power is constant and painful; nothing is ever enough for him, and he devotes much of his time making trinkets to capture spirits. He is on a steady, undeniable path to selling his soul to the Petro Loa, though his desire for power has yet to completely consume him and drive him to this ultimate sacrifice.
Unlike his father, Zelophehad does not bother to sugar-coat his words. He is not charming; quite the opposite, in fact, and uses intimidation and blackmail to get his way. He is not above harming anyone for his own benefit, and his moral code is nonexistent. He looks down on anyone who thinks females should be given special treatment and is completely immune to their charms as a result of having grown up with six sisters. As a rule, he considers females to be nothing more than tools with which he can satisfy certain desires, and ones that he uses quite often to that end. He does not develop emotional bonds, and enjoys nothing more than using somebody until he grows bored and then tossing them aside.
History: The first-born of a Bokor/Caplata couple there was never really any question as to what Zelophehad would grow up to train for. For as long as anyone can remember, his family has taken up the ranks of Bokor and Caplata, and if any of the family’s ancestors deviated from this path, nobody is aware of it, as their existence has been thoroughly wiped from the family history. The family is inexplicably proud of their history, and any new cubs are trained in the ways of manipulation and, for females, seduction.
The only son in a litter of seven, Zelophehad received special attention from his father, who taught the cub everything he knew about his craft and often brought his only son with him to work.
Description: CC; a look to match his personality, if you get inspired by it? 8D
Reference Image(s): Palette!
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 9:29 am
exclaim REMINDER THAT THIS ENDS TOMORROW.
The exact end time will be just before midnight, EST.
Does that sound okay? XD
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 9:53 am
.:. Motherly Shrinekeep .:.
Username: pinchmonster
Lioness's Name: Mahalia
Meaning: "tender one" in Hebrew.
Personality: Mahalia doesn't allow herself to appear to the world around her as anything but an obedient servant to the Loa. Deep in her heart she takes great pride in her duties within her beloved pride, duties that her mother before her proudly shouldered, and her grandmother before that. Mahalia is considered by all a kind ear when one is needed, a shoulder to cry on if the occasion calls for it, and one of the most knowledgable (if not the most knowledgable) Shrinekeep in the pride. She's got a soft spot for those who are less fortunate than herself, and while her history is muddied and unclear to the pridemembers, this soft spot has been the bane of her existance, and perhaps even her one downfall.
A few things to note:
- Mahalia will never birth cubs again.
- I would love to see her and the old blind Houngan become companions, at least until one of them passes away. His old age and her lack of desire to become intimate/bear cubs with anyone ever again would make for a fantastically compatible pairing, in my mind. :3
-If anyone wanted to back-plot with me in regards to her mate (the father of her daughter) it would be fun to see what we could stir up. He'd have to be a Bokor, and a mean one at that.
History: Mahalia's beloved grandmother had been the first in their line to become a Shrinekeep, and so the legacy began. When Mahalia's grandmother became too old and crippled to properly care for the Hounfor, Mahalia's mother took over, and she made sure to train Mahalia as strictly (but as lovingly) as she could. It was considered by Mahalia's family a great honor to care for the Hounfor that honored not only the Loa but also the deceased members of the pride. Mahalia took her responsibilities quite seriously and when her mother was struck by a fatal sickness, Mahalia picked up the reins. She was young still, and careless as youth are wont to be, and had not yet dedicated herself entirely to the pride and to her duties -- and most importantly, to the Loa. Life wasn't to be taken too serious, and Mahalia made many, many mistakes -- mistakes that haunt her to this very day.
She fancied a Bokor in the pride, one that everyone else stayed far away from. They called him mad, called him soulless. He dabbled in dark magics, toyed with the Petro Loa. Mahalia was certain that she loved this male, and she spent most of her time with him. Mahalia was dedicated to him, and ignored her duties to cater to his whims.
Mahalia found herself pregnant. Truthfully she hadn't realized she was pregnant until she'd actually given birth. The cub was small, its limbs twisted and brittle. The cub, a girl, struggled for breath, and Mahalia's heart shattered. The Loa were punishing her for not tending to her duties like she should have. Mahalia believed this with all of her heart. Perhaps even her dead ancestors had taken part in this life lesson.
The name she gave to the sick, malformed cub was "Violine" -- in honor of her beautiful purple pelt that was heartbreakingly similar to Mahalia's own fur. Mahalia then did what she knew had to be done. Mahalia swiftly took her cubs life, freeing her soul from the deformed and sickly body that she'd been cursed with -- cursed with to punish Mahalia for not taking her Shrinekeep duties as seriously as she should've, for not honoring the Loa as she should've.
Over the next few days Mahalia spent all of her time with her deceased cub, gently cradling sweet Violine in her paws, nuzzling the cold body with a mothers sweet touch. Mahalia held off for as long as she could before she took to cleaning Violine's twisted body, slowly and with as much reverence and love she had in her heart. Each bone was meticulously cleaned, the flesh laid aside so that Mahalia could place it at its final resting spot. In her mind, she'd already picked out the perfect spot for Violine's Hounfor.
When the bones were clean, pristine, Mahalia placed them in dlo benit that she'd acquired from a Medsen Fey. No questions were asked, and Mahalia wouldn't have answered them if they had been. While the bones soaked, Mahalia gently carried the remains of Violine to the spot where she would rest forever. Days went by as Mahalia erected a Hounfor to honor her daughter. When all was in place just as Mahalia wanted, she returned to her den and retrieved the bones from the dlo benit. The bones were placed on a necklace, and to this day she wears the bones of her daughter, Violine, to remind herself that her life is to be spent honoring the Loa. No longer would she stray from her duties: her mind, body and soul belonged to the Loa. Never again did she speak to the Bokor that she'd thought herself in love with, and to this day she avoids him at all costs.
Prompt Number: One.
Prompt Response:
"Good morning, my darling daughter."
The chill of the morning had yet to seep into Mahalia's bones, but the torrential rain had soaked her to the skin. Mahalia paid the discomfort no mind. Come rain, sleet or snow, Mahalia visited Violine's Hounfor every morning and every evening. When she woke and before she slept, Mahalia came bearing gifts - always purple. Purple flowers, berries, feathers, rocks, leaves. Always a shade of purple -- Mahalia was reminded of Violine's lovely fur. Today she'd brought a bit of smooth purple glass that she'd found. It was strange, but Mahalia hoped that it was a gift from the Loa, one that was intended for her daughter.
Despite the mud that pooled at the bottom of Violine's elevated Hounfor, Mahalia sat. Not wanting to dirty the Hounfor, she used her nose to rearrange the gifts she'd prevously brought. A small purple stone, three pretty purple feathers she'd found. Water dripped from her ears, nose and chin, but Mahalia paid it no mind. This was not the time to worry about such things.
Lifting her face to the sky, Mahalia's tears mixed with the rain that pelted her face. This was the only time she allowed herself to cry. Never around the other Shrinekeeps - no, she had to keep strong around them. But here, at Violine's Hounfor, she allowed the tears to fall unchecked. She cried not for herself, but for the daughter that she'd let down. Never again, never again.
"You would have enjoyed the sunset last night, Violine," she whispered to the cub's unseen soul, "It was so purple and vivid. I was reminded of you." She choked back the sobs that threatened to burst from her throat. "I think of you always, my daughter." Always, always. Forever and always.
"I hope you think of me as well. I know that I let you down, my sweet daughter, but in your honor I have given my life to the Loa. I am only mortal, and I hope they have forgiven me my past mistakes." She paused, her head dropping, "I hope you have forgiven me, my beloved Violine."
Clearing her throat, she rose once more to her feet.
"I love you, Violine," she whispered, "I will see you tonight. You are always with me." This was said each time that Mahalia visited her daughter's Hounfor, and that being said she slowly made her way back to the pride.
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 10:46 am
exclaim Everything has been updated to this point.
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 11:45 am
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 2:48 pm
.:. Secretive Medsen Fey .:.
Username: Sabra Knight
Lioness's Name: Jivantika
Meaning: Giver of a Long life
Personality: Jivantika is a lioness who prefers the shadows to the spotlight any day. While she isn’t timid she just finds herself awkward at normal conversations and may often lose her voice in a crowd. Yet on the other hand she thrives to learn and loves sharing and gaining new knowledge. She is especially gentle around cubs and if she isn’t trying to learn new things from her mentor or others, she can be found telling stories to them in her free time. She is also very eager to help others and will always push herself to her limits in order to accomplish something.
History: Jivantika was not always her name. Born as the youngest twin, she was called Akwokwo. Her twin sister was named Akwete. As the younger twin, Akwokwo was always protected by Akwete. But she was never jealous of her older twin who was always so bright and energetic; rather Akwete meant the whole world to her. She didn’t even care that her parents spent more time praising Akwete than tending to her, the sicklier one.
Everyone claimed that only death would separate the twins.
Both hated to hear that because in reality Akwokwo’s health was slowly deteriorating. For the past several months both adolescents had been seeking every herbal remedy known. All to help Akwokwo. Day and night Akwete brought new herbal knowledge to the den until both lions were more knowledgeable about medicine than many of their older relatives.
Akwokwo tried many things until one night she completely gave up hope. She didn’t wish to tie down her sister anymore and so the young lioness sneaked away from the den. Finding her younger twin gone, Akwete turned back around and raced out into the stormy night determined to save her.
From there on Akwokwo (now Jivantika) can’t remember much besides cliffs and yelling. All she knows is that the next morning she woke up feeling stronger than ever and that her twin was nowhere to be found.
In the shadows she listened as her family mourned. For they found one twin washed ashore while the other had disappeared. She realized that they figured that she had been lost to the waves as well. But no…the young twin frowned as they kept wailing that the body there with them was Akwokwo’s. They must have mistaken the body, because her mind, her heart screamed that she was Akwokwo.
Then why did she feel so different? So healthy? Why did her body feel like Akwete should? Was it possible?
Guilt about her sister plagued the lioness and so she turned away from her home in the roguelands and began traveling. She shoved off the name Akwokwo and was nameless until a rogue renamed her Jivantika. And as Jivantika the adolescent came onto the pride where she became an apprentice to a Medsen Fey.
What's her secret?: Jivantika sincerely believes that she died that night and became a Loa. Knowing her twin’s love for her, Jivantika fears that Akwete gave up her body and allowed her to take possession of it. Now she just wonders if her sister’s spirit will ever come back and reclaim the body that is rightfully hers.
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 3:49 pm
Advertising 12/30
Gotta try and get at least one entry done. :<
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 7:01 pm
I'm Advertising! (17)
Really need to finish my other entries. <.<
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 7:17 pm
.:. Ticket, please! .:..:. Flirty Poupe .:.Username: Rhyme or Rhythm
Lion's Name: Azacca (Zaka)
Meaning: One of the original Loa of voodoo, actually! Zaka the Loa was known for 'girl-chasing' and so the name seemed appropriate for the flirt.
Personality: Zaka, through it all, is just your normal adolescent. He is bubbling at all times with a curiosity to experience new things and with a need to make sure everyone knows his hormones are raging. He is a flirt and he knows it - he'd never deny the fact that he is. Adolescence is a time for flirting and getting all those hormones to calm themselves, though. He knows that his flirtatiousness will die down by a small margin as an adult, though he may never drop it totally. Of course that isn't to say that he wouldn't drop it for the right mate! Yes, Zaka, the little orphan cub, truly desires to have a family one day. Why? Because he wants to give his cubs the life he couldn't have as a child.
He will never feel bad for himself about being orphaned. Actually, it made him that much stronger and that much more unique. When you look at it, him being orphaned is what made him grow so close to the Loa! He would pray to the Rada Loa since he knew they were the kindest to the Poupes and just really try to tune in to listen to the spirits all around him. His religion is actually something he won't mess around with. He doesn't take it for granted and he loves the fact that he will grow to be a full-blown Poupe as an adult! With his last breath, he would work for it. And in the long-run, it's probably the one thing he won't get distracted from.
A teenager is a teenager and he is no different from any other. He is not lazy whatsoever, but he is easily distracted. That could possibly be one of his biggest flaws. His mindless love of flirting and females keeps him from doing some jobs he needs to take on because he forgets about almost everything when he finds a new distraction. Zaka is innocent in a way that he never honestly tries to get out of doing something or to start flirting - it's just in his nature to get distracted and go with the flow. But oh yes, get him on the job and he is one of the most dedicated workers you will find in the Pepo'poroj Pride.
With his true friends and peers, Zaka is trustworthy soul with a huge heart. He tries his hardest not to let his fellow lions down. Quirky in his ways, he tends to be rather talkative with no hesitation about speaking his mind. He is always bumbling about one way or the other and his need to listen to problems is quite evident to a point where others can find annoyance in it. It's not even so much that he likes listen to issues but rather that he likes to know secrets and mishaps of his pride mates. He would never spill them to anyone, of course, but knowledge is power and power is something that every adolescent enjoys.
History: Zaka was born into the pride, though he doesn't truly remember much about his childhood. His mother died giving birth to her two cubs and his father was out of the picture. He looked almost nothing like his sister, taking mostly after their father while she was a spitting image of their mother. He grew with an old foster mother whose cubs had died somehow, never really bonding to her and instead becoming more and more fascinated with everything around him. When he was still toddling about on wobbly paws, his sister was stock still, unable to stand and very, very small. He didn't know what was wrong with her and he never asked exactly what was but saying goodbye to his only family left was hard. They took her still body away one day and he never saw it again. But being an orphan cub wasn't too terrible.
He grew quickly, and with his longer legs and fluffier fur came a very bold personality. Zaka, unlike most Little Ones, chose which rank he wanted to be. Well, sort of. He never said that he wished to be a Poupe but his constant bothering of the older lions and his interest in the rank was very, very obvious. He was obviously close to the Loa at a young age, always rambling about how much each spirit meant to him and about how he could feel their presence. He was insistent upon the fact that Mawu had a special eye on him (an annoying bit about his cubhood that he thankfully dropped) and would often try to explain that he thought his mother was actually the Divine Creator of them all.
When his mane started to grow in, his annoying cub-like attitude dropped and in grew his new eye for the ladies. Oh, yes. That mane gave him the confidence to flirt with everything that moved. Young, old, Mambo, baboon... You name it, he would flirt with it. He was quickly told that he would start his training to be a Poupe to which he was absolutely delighted! He celebrated this by flirting incoherently with a Shrinekeep who he never did see again. Little did he know, she would literally check everywhere she could so she didn't have to see him again! He grew quickly to where he is now - a flirtatious little lion with a heart of gold and a need to express his pride in being spiritually closer to the Loa than most.
Prompt Number: One (With a hint of three)
Prompt Response:
Azacca had actually started out his day rather normally, though it had quickly turned into one of utter chaos. He woke up curled next to a gatherer that still smelled of the cracked earth and darkness that seemed to loom across the Pepo'poroj Pride lands. He yawned and stalked off, casually praying to Mawu as he went. Not many would realize it, but the adolescent lion had an extreme interest in the Divine Creator. He held her dear to his heart, always imagining that she was his mother. As an orphan, he needed some kind of motherly image, right? His very obvious trotting stirred up clouds of dust as he went, not really caring about being quiet and knowing fully well that he needed to head to a meeting with a very impatient Mambo.
He wasn't a stickler for being on time, but the Mambo had made it seem rather important and he truly did hold his position as an adolescent Poupe dear to his heart. Zaka swished his tail, the bits of hair on the end scathing the cracked ground, thoughts running through his head as he scented his way. The lion was just about to heave out a sigh as he realized that it would be a tremendously hot day when a Medsen Fey ran into his view. The older lioness appeared frantic, her eyes wide and wild as she ran through some of the dead shrubs that littered the ground. "Would you like some help, miss?" The older lioness looked up, obviously troubled and alarmed by his presence. How hadn't she noticed he was there before? Obviously, she was panicking.
"Thank Mawu I've found someone! A Pèseptè was bitten by a snake of some sort and I'm in desperate need of a herb in order for me to help and fix the bite up! Have you ever heard of Devil's Claw? A small white flower blooms at the top and the root is completely brown - it sticks partially out of the ground so you should be able to see it. Please, please run it back to the Medsen Fey den. It's dire and we can't afford to lose another tribe member." Before Zaka could reply, the lioness was gone. Just like that. He'd had no time to even agree to it! Since he was still an adolescent, he was used to taking orders. Used to getting all the bad work that the adults didn't wish to do. So, he went with it.
Devil's Claw was an analgesic - a pain reliever - and very common throughout the area if you knew where to look. The bad thing was, it was the exact opposite of the place he needed to be! But that was already out of his head. Azacca was easily distracted and with a mission on his paws to try to help a lioness (because maybe it would get him some more points with the ladies) out, he had already started running the other way. Very few lions were in the area at that time of morning and the light made everything rather easy to find. It was digging the herbs up that was the hard part. It took him quite a while actually. His claws were torn on some toes and both his front paws were filthy from digging, but he finally managed to collect a few of the roots that the lioness had asked for. And so he started to run.
Zakka's long legs carried him swiftly to the den of the Medsen Fey. From outside he could hear the howls of pain and the sound of a lion rolling about and moaning. He grunted loudly, indicating his presence. The older lioness wandered to the den's entrance, looking disgruntled and even worse than before. Her eyes lightened as she saw the stems and roots hanging from his mouth, though. And that made it all the better. Wordlessly, he passed the root to her and nodded a goodbye. Her tail caught his as he turned to leave and he found himself enjoying the comfort of the quick second in which she twined her tail with his. Helping was actually... Really, really wonderful sometimes.
'Oh shoot!' Thoughts of the Mambo quickly ran through his head and instantly he felt remorse for keeping her waiting. Like a rocket, he shot off again, stumbling various times over the rough terrain and to the Acacia tree where a large amount of bones hung from. His paws slowed as he neared and he could instantly a pair of eyes on him. Feeling terrible about it, he slunk up to her, tail low, body submissive, opening his maw to tell her about what happened. "Forgive m-"
"Where have you been, Azacca? You've kept me waiting much longer than necessary!" Was it even worth explaining to her? She wouldn't care that he'd helped out a Medsen Fey. He'd failed at arriving on time and he had to accept that. Mawu would want him to be quiet and listen to what she had to say anyway.
"I - I forgot about coming, miss."
The Mambo's death glare was extremely hard for him to hold. "You lazy slacker! We were going to work with trying to get you used to summoning the Rada Loa today, but I hope you feel good about yourself because now I've given up! You go back to your den and you stay there by yourself for a good long time while you think about what you did! What were you doing? Flirting? That's all you ever do and everyone knows it. It is the reason many lionesses choose not to work with you. Go - I am sick of you." Weren't the priestly Mambo and Houngan supposed to be nice?
Growling incoherently under his breath, Zaka stood up tall and looked at her, a tuft of his mane covering his eyes. "Miss, I am many things, but I refuse to be called a lazy slacker. I won't deny that I flirt and I may be many other things as well, but I am not I liar. I assure you that I will try my best to succeed as a Poupe, miss. Forgive me." He knew she wouldn't reply which is exactly why he turned-tail and trotted off. He'd stood up for himself and he was proud. One day, he would make that Mambo proud, too. She'd see.
It was only by a lucky chance, though, that as he began to trot off, a group of Shrinekeep ran into view. Swishing his tail and smirking, he made sure that he was still within earshot of the Mambo. "Wait up, ladies!" The Shrinekeep in front of the other two slowed, looking at him and smiling as he ran toward them. Yes, his day was chaotic. But was it truly terrible? Hardly.
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