The last couple of weeks had been full of ups and downs. The discomfort that twinged at her skin hadn't changed much, but actively working towards a goal had kept her from going crazy. She had a couple fellow pride members listen to her words, and even believe her. Many, however, didn't seem to believe her. Many things had happened to the Pridelands in the past. As if the pride was a large watering hole, any disturbances that happened would always even out over time, disappear and almost forgotten.
Vitha was a collector of stories; it was a past time she had picked up from her endlessly-wandering father. He still visited at times, checking up on his grown children and sharing more stories he had gathered in the rogue lands. He was a specialist in dark, foreboding stories. Things that would keep cubs awake at night, and families watching over each others' backs. Reminders that the real world wasn't as kind as it could be in fairy tales. The black lioness always loved those stories...until she felt like one was becoming all too real.
There was no exact definition of what she felt. She wasn't a Seer; there was nothing guiding her feelings other than intuition. That drove some to ignore her completely; no power, no truth to the worries. She felt like there was something bad coming, and appeasing this potential bad thing would keep it away. Isn't that what many old stories said? Give offerings, plead for potential forgiveness, and try to appease it to pass over the pride. It made complete sense to her, so why was no one else listening?
On the other end of the spectrum, Mkate had a s**t life. He was the first child to his mother, a young adol who couldn't even remember his father's face. She had another litter after him, and he had done his best to help her raise them. They were good kids, even if they reminded him too much of their father. Someone who desperately wanted to take his mother back to his own pride. She stayed, but it always bothered the eldest child. His mother was his, and he never really wanted to share her with anyone else.
Then the war with the hyenas happened. He had nearly gotten himself killed, foolishly trying to gain glory in the battle. His aunt had yelled at him, forcing him to think about what would have happened to his siblings or mother if he had passed away. Since then, he had done his best to keep himself safe, hunting with large groups and never biting off more than he could chew. This way he wouldn't cause undue stress on his family.
And then he found his murdered mother's corpse.
Mkate had never been the same after that. The grief had barely penitrated his heart before he fell apart. It had taken many moons for him to eat properly, and he barely helped hunt anymore. He was a ghost of his past, and one that couldn't see into any chance of a decent future.
He was wandering, and that's when Vitha noticed him. She knew his story; she doubted that there were many that didn't hear about the murdered lioness on the border. Few clues were found, and no one knew who had killed her. Some scouts were still looking into leads, but it was nearly impossible to track much of anything out there. Too many strangers and friends passed through the borders.
"Mkate," the black and white lioness said quietly to him, hoping to catch his attention without spooking him. Unfortunately, he still jumped when he heard his name. It wasn't something that he would ever enjoy hearing again.
"What?" he whispered, his ears flattening against his skull, disappearing in his mane. No one bothered to talk with him anymore, other than close family. Heaven forbid whatever he was cursed with rubbed onto someone else.
Vitha lowered her head in apology. "I didn't mean to startle you. I was actually hoping to talk with you, if you wouldn't mind." His fur was a bit matted, and in some areas it had begun to wear thin. The poor male needed more relaxed rest, richer food, and to finally let the pain fade away with the time.
"And expose you to my curse? Sure, whatever. I'm sure you know that my life is in ruins," he grumbled. He tried to flex his claws in anger, but they barely moved. His strength that he had once been so proud of was gone. What was he even doing, and why was he even still breathing? The depression nipped at his heels no matter what he did. So sure, he would talk to this stupid lioness.
"Its not that," she replied. "Though I know more of your story than the average pride member. I'm sorry for everything that has happened to you." She saw him tense up at the words 'i'm sorry', something he probably heard from everyone constantly, with very little meaning behind them. She followed up quickly. "I truly mean that. Something as awful as that shouldn't happen, let alone all of it to the same poor lion. I am worried that something bad will happen again, but I can't get much of anyone to listen." She paused, watching his eyes with her own red ones, hoping to see a flicker of emotion cross his face. "Please?"
He thought about it. It was something that he didn't want to think much about. As angry as he was about how much his life sucked, he truly, didn't want anyone else to have to go through the same hell he was going through. To bring up all those old memories and thoughts, though....this wasn't going to be fun.
"Alright," he said, sounding a bit downtrodden. "Though I will leave if it gets to be too much. I don't care what anyone says, but this is a pain that I'm never going to be able to completely get over." He could feel his insides buzzing with anxiety, but he still felt like she deserved to explain herself, what she was feeling, and what she thought might happen to the Pridelands.