[prp]Pawprints of the Ancients

[laefe]

The sand spread under his toes in a way that made him remember the first time that it had done that, back when the world was very new. Sunlight glinted off every facet of the gold that covered much of his body, from the bangles on his legs to the snake on his head and bangles on his folded wings. Enormous wings that resembled a swan more than they did any other bird or god out there.

Athrun spread one slowly to his left side and used a feather to make a divet in the sand. Of all the gods that he had met in his time, Athrun had yet to find one with wings as wide as his own. They stretched out twice his body length, enabling him to carry a grown gazelle in his claws if he had to or a cub on his back, as often he did with his own cubs when they were younger.

The world had changed so much. With a light sigh, the old god sat down on the sand and debated his past and future. So many things, good and bad, had happened recently. He had never truly found his daughter Fallaji, but at the same time that was for the best. Sure he had been killed, but he'd been reborn with his curse... still in tact. Yet now he could see as if by some sort of divine blessing. His sky blue eyes were finally clear of that old blindfold that had impaired his vision for so long and his back free of the spinning curse marks that had marred his snowy fur.

Now he was the picture of innocence, snowy fur and gleaming gold adorning him. The earrings that hung from both ears blew in the wind, tinkling slightly and causing Athrun to glance about him. The voices of the lonely never truly left his ears, they were always there, waiting on him to notice them. When the time was right he would tilt his head and answer one or another, usually the stronger of the calls. It hadn't been long since his last traipse out of the Tuait'tekem lands to talk to a lonely cub who had lost his mother.

Things in the world were looking up, if only his Azraceri was there to see it with him.  

[Saint Vis]

Kivuli had just left the Dawnwalkers at this time, though he loved the pride, the old gent decided it was not his calling. He loved helping those of ill-temper or those who were sad. However now. Kivuli was slightly lonesome? One would think so. However he would never personally admit it. He was also known very well for getting a lot of random followers in his time. Maybe it was his humble-self. He didn't know.

Enjoying the connection with other priests was a good time, but now it was definitely the time to find another story to walk on the paths of. Maybe finding the one to call a 'lover' and settle down in the roguelands with some cubs. The older male didn't have any. And it was a little saddening to realize how he hadn't. His father, if still alive, would have definitely voiced his honest opinion on how sad it was. Truly. Kivuli thought back then. When he was a Juvenile. Memories that weren't pitch black to him. Only conversations would stick to his mind after losing his sight. But the last thing he ever saw was his own reflection. Closing his eyes he opened them not to long after hearing movement not far off. His better-off ears picked up a sigh and the motion to sit upon the ground.

He hadn't need eyes for that motion. He had done it so many times himself. However the sigh came almost as if it was a God speaking to him. He thought calmly about the conversation of the Goddess of the Lost. How fitting another possibly there. Yet he was no seer. If he was, maybe he would have ironically began to see again. Maybe it was the God of the Old now. Coming to tell him to go and retire back into a pride. It definitely didn't hold the sweet scent of the Goddess he had met prior to joining the Dawn Walkers.

He remembered her startled voice when he reached to her ears words questioning why she walked like a lion.. But flapped her great wings like a bird. He had heard some feathers on the wind. "You're either a God come to warn me of something.. Or you're a very.. Very big bird." The blind male spoke out.

 

[laefe]

Words... old words. Athrun twisted his head slowly and glanced over at an interesting lion. Here he was talking about him and his wings, or rather his being a bird, but this lion had wing markings and feathers traveling down his hind quarters. He was an interesting looking lion, a little older than most Athrun saw, but not quite as old as Athrun's own cubs even(Aki and Dumu were getting up there in age if he remembered correctly).

"I've got no warnings in my head for you, just to watch your steps on the sands. They muddle things for those who cannot see." Athrun said, with all the wisdom of a lion who, for many hundreds of years of his life, hadn't been able to see himself. After his re-birth, the enormous god could suddenly see again and still hadn't figured out why his own curse had been lifted in death.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth though.

After he'd been reborn he'd gotten to see Azraceri for the first time in all their time together as mates. To see her rather than just assume what she looked like and feeling her with his heart was a great treat that had taken time to understand.

Flicking one wing to beckon the aged lion over to him, Athrun couldn't help but be amused by the way he smelled. Despite having been re-born, Athrun still retained the fantastic hearing and scent senses he'd had for so long as a blind lion.

Or god... whatever made the difference. Gods had just as many problems, drama and experiences as 'mortals'. Other than the wings, what made them so different? Some gods didn't even have wings to separate them.

"You come from the DawnWalkers, don't you?"

His pride, Athrun had been aproached by the current pharaoh of the pride, as he'd known the old pharaoh from before the pride had been destroyed. It felt strange that he was once again entangled with them, but as a patron god Athrun didn't have to do that much.  

[Saint Vis]

Hearing the usual beckoning, he knew this movement. Pretty well, too. Many forgot that he couldn't see it so it wasn't very personal. Padding towards the god, the larger-mortal lion smiled softly. "I always make sure to think before I step." He admitted. He wouldn't be alive today if it were the case.

He smelt the different scent of the God, and smiled calmly. The dark lion tilted his head lightly. He thought back calmly about when he met the Goddess before coming in and then lowered his head a little. She was a bit wrong; he wasn't that lost. However.. Maybe he was and this was just a stop in his life. Cautious though process.

Kivuli hadn't always been blind though. He had contracted an eye-illness that ended his sight not shy his adolescent years. While in his Juve he began to see fuzzy-images and this helped him take advantage for it. He left his family before they could take him and make him a 'pride leader'.

But to be honest, Kivuli didn't know, or didn't remember his wing marks. Feathers, all he knew was he was a dark lion. Maybe the face-markings stood out to his memories. But it was all rather long ago.

The God's question came to his ears and he lifted his head. "I was a Priest for my meeting the Goddess that goes by the name of Mwotoki.. I am going to be leaving the pride.. I love it like a home. But even elders feel the need to roam.. It feels like and old home, one that you will remember for all time.." He shrugged a little. "And what should I call you? God doesn't seem very kind. Kivuli Faraji is my family called me."  

[laefe]

Knowing that the other lion was blind wasn't hard to figure out, he had spoken to the god in a strange manner, debating on whether he was a bird or a god. Not to mention that his view never changed, most lions who could see looked around them to feel safe. They didn't rely on their ears or their ability to smell the world around them, they were attached to their eyes heavily. Visual was restricting, could play with your mind and make you think that your senses knew what was going on.

Athrun had gone beyond that with so long being blind to the world around him. Or...not really blind, but blindfolded, unable to see the world the way normal beings could.

"That's good, it shows that you pay attention to more than most. Don't bow Priest, I'm the same as you or any other lion. If it weren't for my powers I wouldn't be known to the world either way. Only the important are known, no lion ever made history that was ordinary." Athrun chuckled softly to himself.

So the lion was leaving the sands, Athrun had many times left himself, traveled through the African Savannah to see other prides and search out lonely souls. Not only the hearts of his own pride were lonely after all. This lion, Kivuli Faraji, he didn't seem lonely, though his heart spoke very quietly of it. He would encounter loneliness in greater quantities over his time on the Savannah, this the old god knew. But right now his heart still glowed from time in a pride, a lion's true life. Lions did so much better in prides where they had a strict guidelines for what they did.

It never served Athrun well, though that might have been the difference between a mortal lion and an immortal god after all.

"Kivuli Faraji, it is an honor to meet you, as it is with all mortals I meet. My name is Athrun." the god said as formally as he could muster. He was an informal god, not bound by the restrictions of others in their powers, his melded with the feelings and experiences of other lions and adapted. It wasn't even lions, any creature. "So you've met Mwotoki, the goddess of the Lost... She is an interesting goddess if I remember correctly."