So. The way was open.
What had first been seen as a natural disaster had actually proved a strike of good luck. A blessing in disguise!
A feeling of pride swelled in Mchawi's chest and she took a few moments to practise the words; 'I told you so', in her head. She'd told her brother to stop moping, told him that everything would turn out all right. They had only to wait, bide their time for the perfect moment. And here it was! She couldn't wait to rub it in.
So, with a smirk on her maw and a proud tilt to her strong-featured face, the witch of the interlopers strode confidently to the last place she'd seen her sibling, a rocky little grove that had become their 'unofficial' meeting place.
"Msiba~" She called to him in her sing-song way, rounding the corner to peer at him with the sharp glint of a secret shining in her eyes. "There you are! Come on now, wipe that miserable expression off your face. You're so much more handsome when you wear a smile Msiba." She hesitated, smiled slyly. "Besides, you won't be brooding when I tell you what I've just discovered."
Msiba. Often, it seemed to the lithe, handsome lion that he had been far too aptly named. Disaster, it seemed, tended to follow Msiba like a hunter the hunted. As a cub, he had always had the worst luck. It was how he had grown to be what he was, a handsome young devil with far too clever a tongue for anyone’s good. He could talk himself in or out of anything, absolutely anything he wanted. There was just no point in wasting so fine a gift that nature had bestowed upon him, and his childhood years had supplied him with more than enough opportunities to hone this special talent of his.
As had become a routine over the last few weeks, Msiba sat with his back leaning against a large rock, sitting stone still and staring off blankly into space, as he pondered what he was to do. They needed a way in, desperately. It was no good that he and his small band of lions had already shown up with their own bonded birds. If they were left on the dark side of the pride, all of the efforts they had put in would be worthless.
That was the first of what Msiba deemed disasters. The second was the earthquake. For a while, in the midst of all the chaos that the quake had caused, he had been afraid they would be separated. Still, by some turn of good fortune, at least in Msiba’s eyes, they had managed to stay together. For that he was unspeakably thankful. There were some iffy characters in their little outfit, but a team was a team.
The handsome lion’s head lifted slightly as the familiar ring of Mchawi’s voice floated toward him on the wind, and then her head appeared around the corner, peering intently at him. Glinting. There was something in them. Triumph. A secret. She always had a certain look on her face when she knew something he did not. Oh, Mchawi.
“I have to brood,” He started. “Because if I don’t, which one of you will?” He rose to his paws, staring at her cautiously. “What do you know that I don’t?”
She sat in front of him, not too close, but close enough so that he could see the slight smile lifting the corner's of her mouth.
It was a long moment before she spoke, seemingly content to watch the sway of her tail for a while. Then, painfully slowly she returned her gaze to him, that odd glint still visible there; tempting, teasing...
Deciding to ignore his initial question she focused on the butt of the conversation, the reason why she had sought him out so soon after leaving his side. The rift. The way into the pride. She drew in a deep breath and then opened her mouth to speak, a fang glinting in her parted maw.
"Remember when I told you not to lose hope?" She continued with barely a pause. "Well I was right, Msiba. The angry thunder of the earth has opened up a path into the valley." She eyed him, waiting to see what expression would play on his face: disbelief, joy, excitement? "This is our chance, Msiba, the will of the very rock itself."
A soft caw echoed from one of the rocky ridges to her left and if one were to look up they would see the shape of a white-necked raven huddled in one of the crevices, one beady eye half-open.
A small frown flitted across his brow, as he watched Mchawi. That look, how he despised that look. It did not sit well with Msiba to be kept in the dark. It never had, and it never would. But if his sister had a flaw, it was that she knew him far too well. She always seemed to know just what buttons to press.
Time seemed to freeze as she sat, and for the longest while, simply watched as her own tail swayed gently. Msiba stood, still as ever, as if he could will himself into rock, watching. She would crack soon. Very soon, she would crack. She had to.
Finally! Though his face betrayed little emotion, he felt relief flooding him as, finally, Mchawi began to speak. And what news. She spoke of a path. Into the valley? For a while the blank look remained on Msiba’s face as he processed the information.
Then, ever so slightly, there appeared to be what seemed like a mixed expression of relief, triumph, joy. Disbelief, that, too, could have easily crossed his face, though it mingled there with the rest of the feelings that were displayed on his face.
“A path, you say,” He murmured softly, suddenly withdrawing into himself, as his mind went to work to fully understand what this meant. Then, just as quickly, he returned, his eyes glinting with triumph above all. “You were right, Mchawi. Never lose hope.”
Mchawi nodded and one could almost see her ego swelling, the way she puffed out her chest and raised her head that much higher. Siblings they may have been, but they worked well together. And though she would deny it if asked, she had high respects for Msabi. She would follow his lead, just as the others would.
She could see the wheels turning over ideas in his mind and wondered what he would come up with, what intelligent, awe-inspiring sppeches he would give.
"I'll leave you to your thoughts." She replied. "If there's anything else I can do to help, you have only to say the word." She stood, glanced up at the raven as if considering something. Then, after a moment she stole another look in Msabi's direction. "Would you like me to rouse the others?"
For a moment, he was silent again, which, one had to admit, was unusual enough for Msiba. His gift from birth had been speech, and use it he had. All his life. So perhaps it was somewhat unsettling, even for himself, that so few words had escaped his muzzle in the short time since Mchawi’s return.
He watched his sister once more, and then a smile flitted across his muzzle, which then began a low chuckle. “Proud of yourself, huh?” He said, with his customary cocky smile. “Don’t worry, you should be.” It would be difficult to get him to admit it, but he held much more respect for Mchawi than one would imagine from simply watching the two interact.
He shook his head, his mind already spinning as he sought to take full advantage of the newest developments of the earthquake’s repercussions. Perhaps, he thought, luck was turning their way. “For now, my thoughts and I alone are more than enough,” He said, his eyes turning skyward as he sought out Werevu. The cape vulture had, since they had first met, become a close friend and often co-conspirator. “Just tell them what you have told me, if you want to, and tell them Msiba has more inspirational talks in store for them.” He grinned, his eyes returning from combing through the skies, and rested on Mchawi. What, he wondered, would he ever do without his sister.
“And tomorrow,” He added. “Show me this path. And we’ll be in. Sooner than we imagined.”
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