The pride had been calm. Relatively speaking of course. They were stable, and their numbers were still swelling. Just like Simosihle's belly. Pride spread across the Umholi's face as the corners of his mouth tugged upward into a smile. He was a father to many now, but there was something about those unborn from Simosihle. She was the reason he was even an Umholi to begin with and for her to have come to him about cubs...
Basking the light of the setting sun, Bangizwe kept towards the outskirts of the territory that pride currently controlled. It was no surprise to him when a familiar brown body came jogging to him. The white feather tied around his neck--that swayed with each jiggle of his body when his paws connected to the drying group--identified him as one of their own. Golden eyes turned skyward and even in the dying light he could see the shape of a vulture casting a downward shadow.
"Umfana," he greeted with a nod of his head.
The pale mane that covered Umfana's neck shivered in the slight breeze that graced the plateau at current. "Umholi Bangizwe", came the reply. "There's been news from the unclaimed lands."
There was always news to be heard, but there was something in those lavender eyes that struck Bangizwe with a pang of dread. Still he nodded.
"Movement, rather. I spotted a cloaked lioness, pacing, observing. Nothing seemed out of the norm, except for how close she stood near our borders. When approached, she ran, disappeared into the grass like..." It was unlike Umfana to falter in such a way. Within seconds he gathered his voice, "Like a ghost, like some kind of spirit."
"A spirit?" Bangizwe echoed, curiosity dripping in his voice.
A nod affirmed that the Umholi had indeed heard correctly. The grin that had once been proudly displayed had since faded, leaving the golden lion with a troubled look spread across his face.
The Ithambo'hlabathi were not religious as a whole. While some lionesses held onto past beliefs with tooth and claw, most simply dismissed them as old hag tales. Meant to be cautionary and respectful to the world as they knew better than most just how fragile their entire world was. Overhunting, overpopulating, over...anything, all could cripple their world so easily.
Suddenly Bangizwe jerked his head up, his golden eyes ablaze as he stared the Enda down. "What did she look like? Did she say anything?" His words were stern as he nearly interrogated the shrinking male as the brown body sank to the ground under the strong gaze of the Umholi.
"N-no. No words were exchanged aside from my own, but she was...gold. S-similar..." Umfana stumbled over his words again, something most unlike himself. "Similar to your own. Her eyes were like the light red of sky as the sun sets and across her back was--"
"A pelt, spotted, with odd teeth." Bangizwe finished, the words cold enough to send a shiver down his Enda's spine. With the Umholi's back now turned to him, Umfana found his legs strong enough to scramble back up and put distance between the two. It was certain enough that Bangizwe needed no affirmation about this mysterious lioness now.
"Leave."
There had been something hidden in the glint of the Umholi's golden eyes as he turned his head just enough to look at his subordinate over his shoulder, watching him with shining eyes narrowed. There was something ominous in the way the setting sun outlined and shadowed the form of Bangizwe and the venomous tone in that single word that sent the submissive male sprinting in the opposite direction as though his entire life was in danger, as if something was chasing him when in reality it had only been a single word and a look that had sent him into such panic.