[PRP] Strange Things Did Happen Here (Adala/Kotu)

[Meepfur]

It could have been worse.

It was pretty damn awful, but it could have been worse. When all was said and done, tallies taken at both the easterna and western oases and each relayed to the other, the casualties weren't as bad as Adala had initially feared that they might be. Two lions had died, and the injuries born by the survivors of the attack were numerous, but of the injured, only two were serious enough for those two individuals to be forced to...consider their options, as it were. Olu sim Ruh was one, Adala herself the other.

Not all of her daughters had been at the northern oasis, now that they were old enough to be rotated into patrol groups, but the ones who had been in the north had survived and gone west. Nesf had lost an eye, apparently, but provided the injury was well-tended and didn't become infected, she would be fine. Adala had instructed Tala, falcon and friend, to be especially clear to the Tabip to watch and tend to Nesf very carefully. She was not going to lose one of her children to a damned infection.

The truth was, though, that she would be losing them all. No one was exempt from pridal law, not even the Hatun, nor even the Bey; she would never recover full use of her maimed hind leg, and so she was considered a liability. A burden. She would have to leave. She could, theoretically, take the position of a Tabip or Buyuk, but she was not suited to be the former. A Buyuk, perhaps, but...she didn't want that. She couldn't bear to stay and not fight - to stay and not lead. To watch others fight and die, where she had once dared and risk the same. Even then, the portion of the pride now at the eastern oasis would soon journey to the west, and if she were to go with them, she would only slow them down. They could not afford such a delay.

She had always known that it would end sooner or later, one way or another, but being aware of it and actually being confronted with that day were two very different things.

Strawberry Gumi Bunny

 

[strawberry gumi bunny]

Scars... He was no stranger to them. He'd born them since his adolescence, after all. But this... This was different. Flesh and fur rent deeply from his hind, and a lame paw... But better a paw than an entire leg. His injuries were numb in the face of the pain he felt for his Adala. For his daughters... His pride. They were split, territories stranded apart, and lacking the strength to push back to try to reclaim their resources anytime soon.

All they could do was divide, and hold tight to what they had left...

And Adala and himself... They had to trust that their children were ready. That they could now lead. There was no place for the injured in this desert. He could remain, fairly easily. His injuries would heal in time, and, while he'd never be at his full strength again, Adala... she... She would not survive here... She could not stay here. And he could not leave her.

Even now, he lay in the sand, trying not to shift too much to reopen the fresh wounds, pale eyes keeping a very close eye on the lioness before him, as well as the sands around them, weary, almost paranoid, toward another attack. Nothing could convince him of their safety now. Nothing could ease him, or will him to rest. When they were no longer standing on the sands of this desert, when they were no longer in a land at war and his mate was well, and truly safe, then he may relax his guard... slightly.

Until then he was tense, claws flexing and tearing against the ground, ignoring the twitching pain it caused his lame paw.

" Adala... " He called out to her softly, purple hues drifting back to her. " I know we agree on this... We can not stay. It is not possible... But I do not know where we would go. "

Meepfur

 

[Meepfur]

An ear, torn and beginning to crust over and itch as it healed, flicked at the sound of his voice and was followed by pale eyes. We cannot stay. Hearing him speak the words was more painful than any of her injuries, because she knew it was only partially true, and yet it did not surprise her to hear him say it. "I cannot stay," she said guiltily, gaze falling to the gravelly sand. "You could."

But he would go with her, and she knew it, because she knew that if their situations were reversed, she would go with him. That didn't do anything to lessen the guilt of it. He was Bey, born and raised to lead the Qyrhyeshti, and he would leave them, their own children and all the rest, for love of her.

Strawberry Gumi Bunny

 

[strawberry gumi bunny]

Her guilt was so plain to see, so heavy in her voice that it felt suffocating to him... Her pain was always his own, and ignoring his injuries he hauled himself up to his paws to limp across the short distance between them. " Adala. " He said, this time his voice more firm. " We can not stay... The Qyrhyeshti need their Bey.. and Hatun... I would sooner throw myself to the mercies of the Burkuteshti than even begin to think of replacing you... The laws would demand it, but I could not bare it... "

Gently, weary of both their injuries, he pressed their foreheads together, his eyes sliding shut in exhaustion as he lightly nuzzled her cheek. " Feel no guilt, my Adala... I am not strong enough to remain without you... I am too selfish to perform my duty for my pride... I can only hope that my children can forgive me one day for placing this burden upon them so young... That you can forgive me... "

He did his best to relieve her burdens, wishing her to feel no guilt. But, in the end, he spoke the truth as well. He could stay. He should... His father would forever curse him from the beyond, no doubt. But for his Hatun, his Adala, he would follow to the ends of all beyond. He knew that. Even with not a memory in his head he somehow stumbled his way back to her. Surely no one expected any less.

Meepfur

 

[Meepfur]

Adala leaned her head into his with a sigh, knowing full well that there would be no arguing with him, that bringing it up at all had been futile. She had needed to say it, to at least offer the possibility, but she had known what his answer would be. Nothing would assuage the guilt, the worry, not even his declarations, but perhaps with time it would lessen. Of that, she had her doubts.

For the rest of her life, she would wonder what happened once they left, what became of their daughters: what mates would they take, what would their children be like, which would thrive, which would die young. For they would die. All of them, sooner or later. The desert, the war, would take from them until it took their lives, as it had for generations, but none of them knew how to live any other way. It was everything. It would always be everything.

"So be it." Tired, so tired, but as grateful as she was guilty to have him by her side. "We will have to choose one of them."

The final choice was her right, but she chose to share it with him. Together, in everything.

Strawberry Gumi Bunny