[PRP] And Then There Were Six [Taabu & Nyunya]

[Kaytla]

Being lazy in the back of the den, Nyunya yawned and rolled over so that her back was to the daylight spilling in. She wasn't asleep, just dozing, and luxuriating in the knowledge that the seven most recent of her cubs were now old enough to and perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, which meant she no longer had to be up and awake to just... be there in case they did something stupid... which wasn't beyond even the smartest of them. She could think of at least one or two occasions for pretty much all eleven of them.

With a smile, she stretched. It hadn't been long since she'd started doing this, but it had already developed into a routine of hers. She got up when she wanted to, and nothing short of a crisis or the end of the world was going to get her up until she was ready. A few members of her immediate family had already learned this the hard way.

The world was crashing down around him, caving in, burrying him in his own sudden misfortune and sorrow and he couldn't breathe through the darkness threatening to swallow his mind. His feet pressed on numbly, his eyes strained and his heart beating a thousand beats a minute as he raced backed towards the den. His cubs might be older, but they were still not old enought to survive on their own, not old enough to support themselves.

What if she was dead? What if she died? What if she was simply lost forever?

He cringed at the thoughts, flinching as if struck by another, as if he were battling a physical being instead of his own inner turmoil. He couldn't believe it, he could barely digest it, and he needed to get to his mate. He needed to, he had to let her know, and the whole pride could be put on hold for the moment until he could get this news across.

"Nyunya," he began to yell, roar, as soon as his den came into sight. His side ached from his run, from running all over the pride all morning, from trying to figure it out. He was tired, he was exhausted, but he pushed through it all for the her sake. He needed her, he needed, for once, the support of his mate.  

[Kaytla]

Her sensitive ears caught her mate's call and twitched in response before he ever reached the den. She may be making a point of enjoying her ability to relax now that the most recent litter didn't need constant supervision, but that didn't mean she wasn't still alert in a different way. She was always half-expecting one of them to call out for her in need. Hell, she'd been like that since the first four, even when they were grown. It was just something it didn't seem she was ever going to grow out of.

On any other day, under any other circumstance, Nyunya might simply have ignored being disturbed, or yelled at Taabu when he got close enough. She could be quite grumpy at times, with her short fuse and impatience. But the tone of Taabu's voice was off. She could tell instantly that something was wrong, and as soon as it registered, she was scrambling to her feet and heading out of the den.

Out in the day, she squinted in every direction to try and locate him, and once she spotted his figure hurtling toward her in the distance, she launched herself into a run to meet him.

As he saw his mate clear the mouth of their den, he found a new reserve of speed, eyes locked upon her tinier form in the distance. Squeezing his eyes, narrowing them upon her, he pushed through the pain gnawing his gut, the feeling that his legs would give way any moment. As he came face to face with her, his breath came in a hard rush, lung stinging and his throat raw. He closed his eyes, almost on the verge of collapsing, but knew he had to go on.

"Ny, she's.. she's.. gone," he managed through gulps of breath, eyes shut and head bowed to his chest. He couldn't breathe, could barely think, and his body ached from the physical assertion he had put it through. He wasn't sure what he could do, what Nyunya could do, but he had to tell her. "Tappy is.. missing.." He trailed off, shaking his head, and even in his exhaustion he could feel the tears swarming behind his eyelids.  

[Kaytla]

The closer they closed the gaps between themselves, the clearer Nyunya could see Taabu's distress, the more she realised that it might just be a crisis that had disturbed her dozing, and the more her own worry started to tighten her chest and make it that little bit harder to breathe. Taabu wasn't a lion given to dramatics, so for him to be so honestly anxious made Nyunya sure something... terrible had happened.

And then they had met, and Taabu had let the bombshell drop, and Nyunya felt her heart seize in her chest. Staring at Taabu with wide eyes, she whispered, "What do you mean... gone?" Though, she already knew. She just didn't want to admit it to herself. Tapanga was gone from the lands; that was the only explanation. Taabu was one of the smartest and most resourceful lions she knew - for him to be so at a loss and out of sorts meant he'd exhausted every other possibility and Tapanga had still remained unfound.

Taabu slowly lowered imself to his haunches, unable to use the energy to hold himself up any longer. He was tired, he was exhausted, and the true horror of the situation was beginning to rear it's ugly head at him. She was gone, completely and entirely, without a trace or any clue as to where she might be. He had spent all morning look for her - at first, he had only assumed that she had wandered off, and then the longer he went without finding her the more nervous he had become. He was having to face it, face the fact that his youngest daughter was gone.

"She's gone," he whispered, shaking his head slowly, eyes shut tightly as if the world could be blotted out and forgotten until she miraculously appeared again. The tears behind his eyes welled, and then poured in little rivers down his furred cheeks. "I don't know how I let this happen, Nyunya," he whispered, voice quiet and croaking from his raw throat, "she's gone." His tone had fallen into one of despair, the great strong lion broken and mangled by this heart ache.

He had only assumed that she had gone out on one of her little 'guardian' missions before he woke, she often did, to prove herself to him. Although he hadn't been able to find her anywhere, and he feared, more than anything, that something had come along and taken her. She wouldn't go by herself, she was smarter than that, and what if. He gritted his teeth, a growl on his throat as he threatened his own mind. The what ifs were more painful than the loss itself, he couldn't bear it, he hadn't the strength now.  

[Kaytla]

As much as hearing that their youngest daughter was missing, it was a shock to see Taabu so... weak and close to his breaking point. Taabu was the strongest of the two of them, Nyunya would even admit that when things were serious; physically it was a given he overpowered her, but as far as emotionally went, he was her source of strength now and had been for so long, so didn't that mean he had to be stronger? Nyunya almost didn't know what to do, so unexpected was it to ever see her mate like this. She always relied on his strength to pull her out of the pits of despair, and so having him down there with her was a bit of a shock to the system.

In the current situation, she did the only thing she could: she pressed as much of herself against his larger frame as she could, burying her face in his thick mane as she let the tears rapidly rising in her eyes wet the dark fur. "It's not your fault, Taabu," she whispered close to his ear. "You couldn't have known... neither of us could have..."

Though, while she said that now, that is was the fault of neither of them, it was likely that later she would revise her opinion. She had been dozing when something had happened to her daughter to take her from the lands, and likely she would never be able to forgive herself once she made the connection.

Taabu jerked as he felt her suddenly pressing against him, as if it were a feeling completely foreign to him. In his despair, he had nearly forgotten her for the moment, unable to concentrate both upon his self loathing and his mate all at once. He leaned slightly into her once she pressed against him, fully aware even now that she could not support his weight. Although a surprise, her touch seemed to draw him out of the depths of his despair, at least to a level where he could begin to comprehend something other than his pain.

"No, it is my fault," he said quietly, shaking his head in disagreement as he forced himself to open those bright red eyes and look out onto the world. "Not only as a father, but as a Usare'Wasii, it was my job to make sure this didn't happen." He gritted his teeth, leaning his head against hers, his breath calmer but his heart beating no less slowly. He would always blame himself, no matter what she said to him, whatever she tried to make him believe.  

[Kaytla]

Almost as much as knowing Tapanga was gone, seeing Taabu so guilt-ridden and loathing was like a physical pain to Nyunya. New tears stung her eyes, and she closed the lids tightly against the onslaught, as though she could will them away to leave her eyes dry and her emotions calm. She knew, though, that it wouldn't work that way; the ground had been ripped out from underneath them, and it would take a lot for either of them to find solid ground again.

"No, Taabu... You're only one lion... How can you watch everyone all the time? It's... impossible. With only you and Njozi protecting the pride, how... how can you be expected to keep everyone safe?" She drew in a shuddering breath. "Besides... it's my fault. If I hadn't been sleeping in, if I'd been out like I usually am... then maybe... maybe I would have heard something... and she would still be here..."

Taabu shook his head at her words, sighing softly and leaning his head into hers. His cheeks were still damp from his own tears though he had repressed them, forced them to stop flowing and forced himself back to composure. He had no room to be weak, she needed him, the pride would need him, and he could not shirk his duties - especially not now. If something had taken Tapanga, it could still be around, and it was up to he and his son to make sure nothing else happened.

"Nyunya, you can't blame yourself," he whispered softly, though his voice still croaked from the strain, "if it had been an attack I could have lost you both." He didn't have to voice what that would mean to him, he didn't have to tell her what that would be like. She was so small, compared to most lions at least, and he had little faith in her physical abilities despite her ferocious attitude at times.

He lifted his head up slowly, prying his eyes back open to look out at the pride. They were red, strained, and his face was already growing stony. He couldn't deal with the pain, not right now, and that meant he would have to force himself not to feel it. Later, he could dwell on it, fall to his pity, but for now he had need to do things. He had to find his son soon.  

[Kaytla]

She shook her head as well. "Then you can't blame yourself, either," she said as firmly as she could manage with a quivering, tear-ravaged voice. "You're not infallible, Taabu. You can't be everywhere... and neither can Njozi. And I can't stand seeing you so lost like this, so please... stop tearing yourself to shreds over something you couldn't have stopped. If not for me, then for the rest of the cubs. They need their father now, Taabu. And I need you."

She pulled back just far enough to look into his face when he finally looked up, her tears still collecting in her eyes though slowing with every moment. "We have to be strong now, Taabu. The boys especially... they're going to need us to be strong when we tell them, so we can comfort them. We can fall apart in private, but we have to support them now." A shuddering inhale, and a long exhale. "We should probably tell Njozi first. If there's something here, he has to know."

Taabu nodded, slowly, his jaw tightening as he listened to her words. He knew he couldn't do it all, but deep down, he was angry that he couldn't. If he was more capable, perhaps this wouldn't have happened. He sighed, shutting his eyes in an attempt to block it out. Nyunya was right, he had six other cubs he had to be strong for, six other cubs he had to take care of. "For the boys," he whispered softly, "I have to be strong for the boys."

He leaned in to nuzzle her softly, slowly, and then pushed himself to his feet. As he turned to look at the horizon, he let out a slow sigh, his tail flickering softly behind him. "We will have to tell the boys tonight, but for now, I need to talk to Njozi." He nodded, turned to look at her, and offered her a solemn nod. He could act stronger, but he couldn't fake happiness for anyone. "I need to let him know what's going on. I'll see you at the den later." Then, with a simple sigh, he began to lope off in the direction he knew he'd find his son this time of day.  

[Kaytla]

With a sigh, she watched Taabu go, sniffing back her tears. What were they supposed to do now? What were they supposed to tell the rest of their family? How could they ease the blow? She didn't have the answer to these questions, and despite what she told Taabu, she was wondering if she had the strength to pull through it, even for their kids. It was just like what had happened with Rengo... but he'd been older, more capable of surviving on his own. She had never truly thought he might be dead... But with Tapanga...

She took a steadying breath and forced the thought from her mind. Thinking that way wasn't going to help her find the strength she needed now. She glanced back to the den from which she had ran what seemed like forever ago - from a different world, even; a world where Tapanga wasn't gone. Wiping the rest of her tears away with a firm paw, she began to move back towards the den, to await the return of Taabu, her steps feeling leaden.