Umkhombo had to resist the urge to groan and drag his paws down his face.
Where the hell was Yinqaba? The Umholi had been looking for hours, and had yet to find even the slightest trace of his green son. No one knew where he'd gone; Sands, no one was even quite sure when exactly he'd gone missing. As a male cub, a Lusizi, and a green one at that, he could not have been less important. He was the very last to eat, and the very last cub most anyone cared about. Even Turiya didn't come across as particularly concerned, reminding him a great deal of his own mother when his brother Indlovu had gone missing. While she might not have cared overmuch, though, a search party had gone out, but if Umkhombo had to guess, he would assume that the concern had stemmed in large part because he and his siblings had been Gakere's very last litter. And Indlovu, while pale, hadn't been green.
And though he was very definitely concerned, if he was being honest with himself, Umkhombo was hardly in a panic over Yinqaba's absence. He did care, and he was worried, because green or not, the cub was his son, and this litter...this was the first time he'd felt a real attachment to any of the litters he'd sired since returning to the Ithambo'hlabathi. As Umholi, he was supposed to be detached from strong bonds with the cubs he sired, and was expected to keep his nose out of cub-rearing. He was required for the having, but after that, the mothers of the pride generally preferred that the Abaholi and Inselele keep out of the way. But Turiya wasn't an Umzingeli, or even a Busisa: she was their ambassador from the Firekin. And he...may have had something of a soft spot for her. Maybe. It probably wasn't wise, but there it was.
Still, even though he was concerned about Yinqaba, he knew that things happened. A thousand different fates could have befallen the cub, who would certainly be an easy target for predators and scavengers alike: small, defenseless, and too brightly-colored to miss. And with all manner of dangerous, unnatural things happening of late, the possibilities were all endless, and most of them grim. But he couldn't not look. Tala was helping, and likely had a better chance of finding anything than he did - the falcon had sharper eyes, and an even better view. His grandmother had insisted on looking, as well, albeit separately. Though she'd not admitted anything, he suspected the green very likely came from her side of the family. Something about her reaction had just seemed...suspicious, and process of elimination supported his guess. He doubted it came from Turiya's side of things: her mother was Firekin, and Andhaka had never thrown any green cubs in all his time as Umholi. It definitely didn't come from the strong Bonelands side of his tree, and Surtak had never had any odd cubs either, so that left Wodi and her Mistweaver blood. Somewhere in there, he suspected, lay the blame for the green. Not that he was overly concerned about it, as long as it stayed fairly rare. One odd cub one in a great while might be shrugged over, but if it were a regular occurrence...well, he'd be a less popular Umholi. Although he really wasn't in this because he relished cub-siring duties, so then again, it would hardly be a crisis.
Umkhombo was so wrapped up in his thoughts and so focused on looking for something small and green that he didn't notice the approach of someone large and tan until they were embarrassingly close. The dark male suppressed a start, and frowned at the new Inselelo. Well, less at him and more just that he happened to be there to be subject to it. "Mot. Did you need something?"
"I was coming to see if you did, actually," the newcomer answered, letting any gruffness from the darker male roll off of him. He knew perfectly well not to take it personally; he could barely even begin to imagine the sort of mood the Umholi must be in, with a missing son. A missing son that Mot couldn't help but notice that almost no one seemed terribly concerned about, whether because the cub was male or green or both. Fresh from being huria, Mot had empathy in spades for the odd little thing, who was treated much more harshly than cubs of unacceptable color in the desert. It was obviously the way here, but still, it got under his skin.
Khombo gave the Inselelo a good, long look, trying to parse for himself why the other male might be interested in helping. Maybe to curry favor, because he was knew. Maybe because the cub was Firekin-blooded. Or maybe he was just doing a good thing for the sake of it. Whatever the reason, he supposed it didn't really matter all that much. Help was help, especially when he was so short on such offers, and had deemed it best not to come out and ask for such assistance. The pride had greater concerns than one wayward green cub, after all. Even if that green cub was technically the grandson of their close ally's Regent. He had to wonder what Agni-pariksha would think about that. That was irrelevant for the moment, though, and he'd leave it to Turiya to explain that. "I wouldn't turn you down," he finally answered with a long-suffering sigh. "He may be green, but he's small enough that he could be hiding any number of places."
Mot met the favorable answer with a nod. "Point me in a direction no one's looked yet, and I'll get to it."
There was another short pause from Umkhombo before he spoke again. "South, towards the chasm." Not that Yinqaba could be anywhere near there, since it was a four-day walk even for an adult. Otherwise, one of his first suspicions would have been that the cub might have taken a fatal tumble, not that there weren't plenty of other hazards within reach. "Wodi went east, and I'll keep looking to the west.
Mot nodded again and turned in the indicated direction, though he hesitated just long enough to add, "Good luck."
To all of them.