In another time, another place, Makri would have believed that all things happened for a reason. As a cub, she was raised to believe that nature was in perfect balance with itself and that nothing was left unaccounted for. Ever. Then that very same pride decided that her elder brothers, the perfect example of their dual belief system, were too disruptive to remain within the pride. What sort of fool tossed out the culmination of everything that defined them just because it had gotten too real?

Well, nevermind the reason, it had been enough for Makri to decide that her place was no longer those false believers. Her path had always been with her elder brother, Do'al, and her goals had always aligned perfectly with his. Until now, anyway.

Makri had found her way out into the rogue lands without Balthier at her side (she swore, sometimes that poor lion needed some time away from her if he wasn't going to chew his own tongue off) and sat pondering the minute changes of life that had led her to the place she was today. Any little thing could have gone differently, any little choice she made or interaction she had could have changed who she was and where she belonged. She supposed it didn't really matter - she was content among the demons. Her anger was calmed by the words of her inner strength and those lions that surrounded her valued her ability to torture and torment within constraint. It meant she had separated herself from Do'al almost entirely but her family never lost contact with her and she could still feel the threads that bound her fate - she only refused to be victim to them.

If she couldn't consider it with reason, she could at least consider the sight of the fiery red male on the horizon a very, very odd coincidence. The closer he drew to her the more convinced she was that it was none other than her father in all his deceiving, glimmery glory. Despite herself, she felt a smile crack her maw just as it had done every time as a cub and before she knew, she was on her feet to meet him halfway.

"I was beginning to think I'd misjudged my sight," his low, gravelly voice purred next to her ear as she leaned silently in to press her forehead against his strong neck. There was no other lion in the world that drew such affection from her without fail. She felt his laugh more than she heard it, rumbling gently against her cheek as he leaned into her in return. "Ah, girl, what have you gotten yourself into now?"

It made her smile that wicked, playful grin before she pulled away to look at him, meeting his bright eyes without fail as she craned her neck to look up at him. His age had not taken away from his might and he stood tall as ever. Most cubs thought their parents the strongest and biggest lions to walk the Earth - Makri knew that her father was among the few that could actually claim that title. Fire and strength and fury, that is always what he said ran in his veins and, by extension, that of his children.

Except Roshan. That damn pansy. (Not that her father would ever say such a thing aloud.)

"Oh, just chaos and intrigue, Father. Nothing out of the usual for me." Her tail flicked as her eyes slid past him to the horizon, looking for any sign of a female that might be with him, particularly one that resembled herself. She did not have the best of relationships with her own mother but she had always wondered how long it would take her father to realize that the female was no match for his fiery spirit. He seemed to sense her thoughts and chuckled again, leaning down to nose gently at her cheek.

"Never you worry yourself about her, Makri. Your mother has found her own path."

It made the female snort and roll her eyes in an unusually animated fashion. He was ever the silver tongue, claiming they had parted ways so amicably when Makri could make a guess at the real truth: her mother had feared her brothers nearly so much as the entire pride themselves. She was probably still there, groveling to better her station and turning her back on her brood. Instead of answering his politically correct statement with an equally evasive response, she shrugged her shoulders and plopped herself down before him.

"Let her do what she wants, father. She's never understood us anyway." Boldness was certainly more her style.

The older male laughed again as he took a seat next to his daughter, staring past her to demon lands he knew lay behind her shoulders just as she stared past him to the rogue lands she had left behind. Makri wondered silently if he had come because he was considering joining her but then realized that it wasn't a place for him. Her father was a wildfire and the demons could tame him no more than her own mother could. He was everything in Do'al that made her brother want to consume the world but with all the reserve that he lacked - well, that she lacked too, in truth. Their father had always been something greater than themselves, unbiased and neutral as he swept through the lands around him. It was no wonder why even her wicked brother heeled to him when called.

"I know you aren't staying," she said gently as she leaned her shoulder into his, letting her guard down for one of the first times in what felt like years, "but would you just sit here with me for a while? I never considered how lonely it would be to settle down somewhere just to dig in my roots."

Over her head, Tabani's face pulled into a strange expression, caught somewhere between knowing and worry. He only leaned down to lick the top of her head in response, lulling her further into peace.

"I can do that, my wicked heart. Just for a while."

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