Ginga was setting out on his own for the first time.

Ginga stared wistfully at the grove where his family lived, early morning still holding dew in the air. The sun wasn’t up yet and neither was his family. The world was blissfully serene, not even the crickets awake at this house. The bright lion wanted to burn the image of his family home in his head. The gurgling brook, the shade that the trees provided. The meadow of flowers and their perfumed scent mixed in with the heat of the earth. The cave that provided a coolness during the heat of the day. Even though he couldn’t see it from here, he knew it was decorated. With furs, with artifacts. Beddings and makeshift items him and his siblings made, a treasure found here or there. The walls painted with inexpert paws of different scenes made by a cub. He smiled fondly, wishing he could get another look at the cave.

He also wished for the usual noise and not the quietness of the early morning. The shrieks of his siblings and cousins, the roaring laughter of his father and uncles, the chattering of his mom and aunts. The chittering of the squirrels and chirping of the birds. He would miss the noise, the peaceful chaos that existed at their hidden little grove. He could have waited until daybreak, could have waited until they all woke up. Except… if he had, he probably wouldn’t have leaved.

The delay would have not only been caused by his reluctance to leave everything he ever knew. His family had been quite against him leaving, ever since he mentioned it. There was nothing out in the world except betrayal, blood, and tears. That the grove was where he belonged, where he would stay and grow. And the only time he should venture out is with his brothers to find mates. Never alone. It was their secret place, one outsiders didn’t know. A crack in the mountain that led to the small valley was the only way to access it. And it was theirs.

Taking in a deep breath, Ginga forced his back on his home. He needed to leave. Before he began tearing up. Before they woke up.

Before he lost the will to take another step away.

And so, Ginga forced one step in front of the other, slowly at first, until his momentum built up and his feet were pounding against the earth, running away from his life, his home. He wanted to start anew. He wanted to see the world. He wanted to discover his potential. And that required him leaving the safety of the grove. Perhaps, one day, he would be back. Wouldn’t his family be happy about that? The daydream of the reunion brought a pang to his stomach that he didn’t know. Was this… homesickness? It couldn’t be. He wasn’t even a mile away. He sucked in a deep breath and ran faster.

He was certain his father would want to whack him. Or his mother. She was a fierce lady. But they would be overcome with joy. There would probably be a celebration of his return. Goose and rabbit and antelope. Maybe even zebra. Berries and bananas and mangoes and other fruits. Pastries his mother learned how to crudely make. His imagination nearly had him turning back, the homesickness rising up in him like bile.

No, he had to be persistent. He had to persevere. He would return one day. But not today, not in a week. He didn’t know when. But he had to find his place in the world. He wouldn’t come back as a failure, that was for sure. He would come back successful and make his family proud.

When he was near the crack in the mountain, Ginga paused, looping off his satchel to rummage through it. There was some dried meat, some fruits, a pastry. There was an old antique that pointed in one direction at all times and there was some cloth. Among his articles, there was also a leather pouch of water, tied off to prevent too much of a spill. He was set for the outside world.

Taking in a deep breath, he pulled back on his satchel and proceeded into the narrow walkway hidden within the crease of the mountain. It wasn’t a very long path and certainly not very wide. Two lions could walk side by side without difficulty but three would be a bit uncomfortable. Ginga always wondered what would happen if a cave in happened. His father assured him that it had happened in the path but they had always found a way to clear out the debris. Ginga still couldn’t help the worrying, however.

He reached the end, which was a thickly forested summit. He knew of the place a great deal, considering he attended to his father, uncle, and brothers to hunt out in this area. But he only knew it for a couple of miles. Beyond that was unknown world. It took only half an hour to walk to the edge of the land he knew. It was marked with claw marks by his family. To prevent the family from going further.

Ginga sat at the border, staring at the unknown land beyond. Did he even dare? All his life, he had been told not to venture past the marks. That it was dangerous. That only once will he ever venture past and that was with family, to find a mate. Yet here he was, staring at the border, uncertainty flittering in his heart. No… he had to take this step. He had to grow past the grove and the creek and the cave. He had to become independent of his family and exercise his potential.

He had to become something other than just a lion from the grove inside the mountain. He needed to become. He wanted an identity. So, with a deep breath, he took two steps past the claw marks. And stared in wondered. Nothing had happened. It was the same on this side as it was on the previous. He could do this. He could make this journey. With a bit more confidence in his step, he began walking, ready to see the world.

w.c.: 1,046