[PRP] Shades of Beige (Rai x Nchekwube)

[Z o m b i k ii]

She was fine.

Everything was fine.

Recent times had not been easy on the cream lioness; a soul that was far more gentle and soft than what was usually found in the N’ezi. Change scared her; brought up dark memories that she would rather ignore. However, change was inescapable right now, life as she knew it had been turned on its head and it caused her more anxiety than she cared to admit. She had never been good at talking about such things, not that there was anyone around to listen; not even Kwezi.

So, she had the only thing that made her feel safe and secure. She hid. Alone in her den, she shut out everything and everyone, Nyarai had been a scarce sight since the day she discovered the body and her usual laughter was absent in the land. Luckily for her, everyone was so preoccupied with current events that nobody had sought her out. Not even her brother. She had heard stories though; oh had the birds told her tales.

The lioness was on her way to get water, one of the rare occasions she could be found wandering around. It was early morning so she did not expect to run into anyone; but she did. Someone that looked very familiar but very different. Her face lit up at the sight of Nchekwube and her anxiety all but melted away, for the first time in a long while she wanted to say hello to someone.

So she started to run in his direction, her body low to the floor as if to pounce. Her heart thundered in her chest as she drank in the sight of him. He was taller than she remembered… and he had a mane now. Her legs straightened as all the playfulness melted from her posture and her face. There was a pain in her heart; a realisation that nothing was the same, not even Nche. If he had not already seen her she might have just run away; she still might.

“Nchekwube?”

This was wrong.  

[oo Ded]

Nchekwube had been distracted, to say the least. All the joining rogues seemed to have settled more or less into their new families so that was one weight off of his shoulders, but even with that arduous process over with his life still seemed like one big whirlwind. Apprenticing to become an Amusu was usually something that spanned an entire lifetime, from cubhood until the moment a lion was officially brought in as one of the Amoosu, but diving into it at the end of his adolescence had left Nchekwube with a lot of catching up to do. It seemed like his mind was full to spilling with information on family lines and rituals and histories and the layout of the catacombs. It was surprised he wasn't bursting out of the eats.

The rivers were a peaceful place that Nchekwube had settled on as his sort of getaway during his time out of the catacombs. The sound of trickling water was relaxing and the rays of morning light felt good on his pelt.

A sigh left his chest and Nchekwube did his best to put all of his stress into that one breath, focusing on the feeling of his leaving his body. He was about to lean down at take a drink when he heard his name. The lion's ears perked and he turned his head, a bright grin spreading onto his face as he saw the orange cream lioness.

If he noticed anything wrong in the sound of her voice, it didn't show. Nchekwube had, of course, wondered where Nyarai had been. He felt as though he hadn't seen her since he had woken from his coma, and everything had been go go go since then he hadn't had a chance to hunt her down. Of course, the thought lingered in the back of his mind that maybe hunting her down wouldn't have been the right call. He had learned recently that blatantly trying to help a problem often did more harm than good.

"Nyarai!" He called. It didn't seem as though any of those previous worries were lingering, now. Instead, the lion lowered down onto his front elbows, tail straight in the air as he approached, He wiggled just a bit, his only barely full man puffing around his face.

Then, he saw the look on her face. "Are you…" his voice trailed. Last time he asked if someone was okay it hadn't worked out for him. "What's up?"

Z o m b i k ii

 

[Z o m b i k ii]

oo DeD

All the cream coloured lioness could do was stare at the male like a knot on a log. Though her mind was sifting through one hundred different thoughts her face remained still and blank, like she could not really wrap her head around who or what was stood before her. He was a ghost, a manifestation of everything she knew evolving. When did this happen? Had she really been that absent? She shook her head slightly; her teeth grinding together in her maw as she tried to swallow the urge to whimper.

She had not been there for him, through all of this. Through his coma, through all the events that came after. She had not been there and it broke her heart, filling her lungs with shame and guilt until she for it hard to breathe. Nyarai had let him down, and still, he got down onto his knees; looking at her with the same playful expression he always had. He was too good. “You can see mine too then?” Her words came out snappier than she intended, but even in all her frustration it was hard for her to sound anything more than a scared cub. Nyarai was soft from her pelt to her core and even distraught lacked any sharp edges.

“Am I good? Nchekwube?” He could see that she was told, she did not understand it but everyone else seemed to believe so. The lioness shook her head, like she was afraid to know his answer. She had always done as she was told, she had followed every tradition and never questioned it, she had behaved because she thought that is she did then nobody else would die. Nyarai had never wanted praise for it, she was more than happy to be someone else's rock, the friendly face that would joke and play when she did not feel like it because she wanted people to be happy. T

All she wanted for herself was stability, a sense of belonging; not this. Everyone was leaving her behind.

Her eyes closed, orange orbs glossed over with tears as a sharp inhale of breath caught in her throat. Ink had told her to weather the storm, dry off when it stopped raining; but she felt like she was drowning and the sun was still nowhere in sight. “I am sorry, it's not your fault. The retired huntress shook her head, sending strands of pale locks dancing to cover her eyes. What was she doing? A few steps forward, carried by the limp in her back leg that was hard to hide. Her face found his shoulder, a paw coming to rest on his other as she held him tight. She buried herself in his mane and only then did she feel safe to cry.

"It's not your fault. Forgive me."