[PRP] With Age Comes Uncertainty [Hila & Skare x Kafele]

[Vashtya]

After months of a great deal of change, and the frustration and emotional turmoil that came with it, things had finally settled into a sort of (somewhat unsatisfying) routine. Most days, Hila spent most of her time patrolling the border, although her track record with duelling outsiders was disappointing (something that had initially proved a major knock to the ego, with her biggest defeats leaving her smarting not just physically, but mentally).

And so today the lioness, looking far rangier than she had even a few short weeks ago lay sunning herself just outside the entrance of her den, soaking up the rather meager rays that peeked through the (eternal) clouds.

The time spent snarling at anyone and everyone while she recovered had, after initially making Skare more skittish, eventually changed the dynamic of their relationship - she'd never had such a prolonged bout of even semi-inactivity, and the forced proximity had made her think more on her last meeting with Kafele, and she wasn't sure she liked the questions it made her raise, even if only to herself.





Sliding a trinket into a small cubbyhole in the wall of their den, Skare spared Hila a brief glance, a frown wrinkling his forehead. He wasn't sure when it had happened, exactly, but somewhere over the last few months he'd gone from being terrified that her temper would explode into violence, combined with resentment at his situation, to something...he couldn't quite identify. He'd found himself helping to nurse her through her rather extensive injuries from the duels she'd had at the border - only because she'd done the same for him...and because he'd been afraid of retaliation if he didn't he quickly assured himself, shaking his head.

It was...strange. And adding to his confusing feelings toward his 'mistress' was the way he'd caught her looking at him from time to time, when she thought he wouldn't notice, a thoughtful, dare he even say...troubled expression on her face, masked so quickly that he couldn't be sure he hadn't imagined it. She was independent, something he had always thought he himself was, but with a core of strength that he envied - he suspected that if she'd come through a similar experience to his own, she wouldn't still be finding herself crying at little or no provocation, or flinching at the first sign of violence.

Settling in the shadows, he fished a suitable shell out of the small bag that Hila used to store the shells she collected at the beach, flexing his claws once before beginning to etch the surface.
 

[SilverLutz]

It had been some time since Kafele had come across Hila in their daily journeys and while he had initially thought nothing of it - perhaps she had impressed a Captain and had gone out a-Viking! - the more time that stretched between their last meeting and the present, the more he began to worry. The pride wasn't terribly friendly towards females with big ambitions and a short fuse and, while he wouldn't exactly call his friend explosive, she certainly didn't take any crap from anyone.

Deciding it might be best to pay her a little house call, the healer trotted through the pride lands in search of his friend. The pride had settled somewhat and it seemed to be the calm before the storm, in a way. In the aftermath of the new Warlord taking over and the events in the god's realm everything seemed...normal. And normal never stayed normal for very long.

Approaching Hila's den, Kafele was relieved to see the dark pelted lioness lounging in the meager sunlight the sky had to offer today.

"Hila! There you are," he called out, relief slowly turning to surprise, then worry as he spotted the healing wounds scattered about the awfully ragged frame.

"What in the gods name happened?" he asked as he drew closer, the pep gone from his step.

Vashtya

 

[Vashtya]

Starting slightly at the familiar voice of her oldest friend, Hila turned to him, torn between irritation (caused more by shame at being in such...subpar condition, especially given the events that had led to them) and a small, giddy flutter in her belly, which she promptly squashed. He was her closest (if she were honest, only) friend, and there was no way she was letting some nebulous desire for something else ruin that.

Heaving herself to her feet, she was pleased to note that she was only moving a little stiffly, at this point. "It's a good day to die," she said in greeting, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at the fiery-colored male, as if to ask where else he'd expected to find her. It isn't as if I'm able to go gallivanting about on a viking she thought with the same annoyance that that knowledge always provoked.

At his next words, concern blatant in his tone, her ears went back, and she hunched her shoulders slightly, embarrassment pulling her lips back into a snarl, remembering the string of defeats that had left her ego as battered as her body. Had it been anyone other than Kafele asking, she'd have already snapped something back, eager to push their attention anywhere else.

"I can't imagine what you mean," she said stiffly, tail lashing back and forth. It wasn't that she expected him to let the subject drop, but her pride insisted she at least make the attempt.


Hearing an unfamiliar male voice calling out to Hila by name, Skare's paw flexed, claw digging into the shell he'd been delicately etching, hard enough to puncture the delicate object. It tumbled to the ground, already forgotten as he inhaled shallowly, fighting against the panic that threatened to overwhelm him.

This was the first male he'd been this close to since the attack that had led to his capture, and he was ashamed to discover that the same crippling fear that he'd finally thought he was beginning to leave behind him was holding him immobile, crouched in the darkness of Hila's den at the mere sound of a male's voice. His eyes glittered with tears he refused to let fall as he reminded himself that, much as he hated his current state, Hila was not one to let another damage something she saw as her property. That thought might have brought him some small degree of comfort...But then, she wasn't exactly in fighting shape he reminded himself, close to hyperventilating, although his breaths were shallow enough that they were unlikely to be heard outside of the den.

SilverLutz

 

[SilverLutz]

"Can't imagine what I- Stormlords, Hila, don't play dumb," Kafele said as he drew closer, getting a better view of the sorry state his friend was in. Thankfully none of the wounds seemed infected and they appeared to be healing nicely, though he could only imagine how sore she was. He supposed this answered his question of if she'd managed to go out a-Viking with someone and he wisely kept his mouth shut on the subject.

"You could have come to see me, you know. I am a healer," he said, sitting before her with a slightly annoyed look on his face. "Scars are all well and good so long as you keep your limbs and eyes." Kafele was well aware that battle and the marks left were a vital part of showing one's status here, but too many scars without any glory behind them wasn't something that Reavers and Freeborns sought after. He could tell Hila had been defeated if only by her body language and the fact that she'd been keeping away from him.

Vashtya

Sorry for the wait!

 

[Vashtya]

Lifting her lip slightly, a flash of fang made it clear how little she liked this conversational gambit, even if his concern (free of scorn as to how she'd gotten into such a state), continued to warm her, just a little bit. "I'm fine." she ground out, looking harried.

At his annoyed, almost accusing words, she barely refrained from a guilty flinch. "If I'd needed healing, I would have!" she burst out, defensiveness lowering her voice almost to a growl. As he sat before her, however, it was harder to keep up her temper, as his irritation didn't mask his genuine concern.

She gave it a good attempt, however, her ears remained laying back almost flat against her skull as her expression shifted into what could almost be termed petulance. Holding up one paw and waving at him, she made a face. "Still in possession of all of the above, as you can see." She might not have an impressive track record with her battles at the border, but she wasn't one to give up - she'd eventually claw her way upward, or die trying.

Not even attempting to disguise her desire to change the subject, she pressed on, making an attempt at a pleasant [removed](something she wouldn't have even tried for any other lion of her acquaintance). "What brings you here, though?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. It was the first time, unless she was mistaken, that he'd actually dropped by her den for a visit. Glancing briefly in said cave's direction, she noticed Skare, crouched in the back corner, eyes wide as he quivered in terror. With an internal sigh, she did what she always did when embarrassed on his behalf - she looked away, giving him time to compose himself, bringing her gaze back around to rest on Kafele, instead.


Skare's blood rushed in his ears; drowning out the pair outside's initial verbal exchange. Watching as Hila's body language displayed discomfort, shame, and all-to-familiar anger, it became apparent, as his panic slowly faded to more normal (at least, normal for him) levels that she knew this lion quite well - there was a vulnerability to her that he hadn't noticed with...well, anyone else. His eyes darted back to the large, red male, who had an annoyed, but distinctly unthreatening look on his face. With a shudder, Skare forced himself to exhale slowly, although his muscles refused to cooperate enough for him to do anything but remain crouched uncertainly beside the ruined shell that still rocked slightly in the dirt.

At Hila's brief look, he cringed, wishing for a brief moment that he wasn't so pathetic. He missed not being afraid of...well, everything, but couldn't seem to figure out how to break free of it. When she turned back to look at the other lion, the distraction of her brief attention proved enough for him to finally hear sounds over the beating of his own heart.

SilverLutz

 

[SilverLutz]

Hila's rebuttals weren't anything Kafele wasn't used to. When they were younger he might have teased or pushed back, but as it was he simply stood here with a disapproving look on his face. He knew his friend was headstrong and determined and knew exactly what she wanted in life but being reckless wasn't going to see her to victory.

"It'll do you no good to carry on like that," he said quietly as her dark eyes darted somewhere over his shoulder for a moment. "I know your aspirations and you won't set foot in the rogue lands if you can't keep up due to an injury." He wanted so badly to see Hila succeed and his heart ached for her, not just for the physical pain she was in but for being unsuccessful in reaching her goals yet. Give it time, though. Kafele was sure she wouldn't give in.

"That's why I came by," he added to answer her question. "I hadn't seen you in a while and I wondered what you were up to. Now I see- oh!"

He had finally glanced behind him to see what Hila's attention had been drawn to and was startled to see a male lion hunkered down in the back of her den. For a moment something flared within his chest as he locked his gaze on the other lion, a sick, twisting heat that made him want to cry and snarl and demand an explanation where none was due. Who was that?

The other male's posture quickly gave away who he was, though. Not a suitor. The jealousy bled out of Kafele quickly as he realized his friend had gotten herself a Thrall somehow and a deep sense of disappointment took its place.

"Hila...is he..." He turned to look at the dark lioness again, sadness written on his face. Kafele knew he had no right to tell her how to live as a Stormborn but he thought he'd reached her at least a bit during their talk on the subject of Thralls. Apparently he hadn't.

Vashtya

 

[Vashtya]

Kafele's words, spoken so baldly, were almost worse than if he'd argued with her - because she knew he was right, damnit.
And admitting she was wrong was something she hated almost as much as being told she couldn't do something. And so she avoided his gaze, studiously looking anywhere but at him as she replied, her own words low. "I know that."

More embarrassing still, she felt a small flutter of happiness that he'd come to see her, not for any specific reason - and squashed it down ruthlessly. Still, it warmed her, just a little bit, that he'd cared enough to come check in on her...

At the abrupt change in his tone, and the question in his voice, Hila looked up, realizing that he hadn't ever met Skare, although the thrall had been in her keeping for some months, at this point. In a rapid change of emotion, she struggled with the urge to explain herself, given their last conversation - and then the sense of irritation that she even wanted to do so - it wasn't like she owed anyone an explanation, right??

She'd already found herself staring at Skare thoughtfully in the weeks that had followed her last meeting with her closest friend, and she still hadn't made a decision as to what to do. She'd never considered the practice in any real way before that, and since...well, Skare had recovered physically, but if she took him to the border and turned him loose, would he even be able to function on his own?

Flicking her gaze determinedly up to meet Kafele's blatantly disappointed one, she kept her voice studiously even. "Ah, you mean the thrall." she observed, carefully. "He's been...mine since I got back from my first Viking." she said, refusing to drop her gaze until she turned her head to look back at the thrall.

"Skare, come out here - if Kafele doesn't mind, it would probably be a good idea to have him make sure everything is healing properly." She didn't mention that the injuries she spoke of hadn't been at her own hand, or anyone else in the viking band she'd been with, or that they'd killed the lion who had left him so battered that he'd remained unconscious for the entirety of the journey back to their own lands, torn between her pride and this disconcerting desire for Kafele's approval.


When the large red male's gaze swung his way, the breath froze in Skare's lungs, especially when he was quite sure that the first emotion that crossed his face was rage. It was quickly replaced by something softer, though...probably pity, he thought with self-disgust, even as he pulled in one shaky breath as Kafele turned back to Hila.

He hated being afraid of everyone - especially other lions who would have been his peers...before. Who was this male? He and Hila were obviously familiar, if the odd sense of vulnerability that hovered around the usually prickly lioness was any indication. Resentment battled with the panic that had become his most common bedfellow - Hila had, without his intending it (perhaps unavoidably, given the circumstances) become the center of his world. His savior and captor, terrifying with her mercurial moods (although she'd never lashed out physically)...and yet she was his only source of comfort and protection. He was drawn to her, yearning for something he didn't dare name, grateful that she'd saved his life, even as he almost hated her for seeing him at his most crushing lows, for making him a slave...

And then her words yanked him out of his own miserable thoughts, jibbering terror that she wanted him to approach this stranger battling with a stubborn desire to not seem so helpless. And so, with quivering limbs, he got to his feet and slowly, cautiously made his way toward the pair, his burst of courage not extending far enough to drag his gaze up to meet either of theirs.

SilverLutz

 

[SilverLutz]

Had he not been so preoccupied with the Thrall, Kafele might have taken some pleasure in hearing Hila agree with him. He was far from that train of thought, however, now completely on trying not to let his disappointment show too much while still letting Hila know he didn't approve of her traditional ways. Nothing else about her was traditional so why should she follow such an old way of living? Surely there was something else behind this.

Skare was his name, then. Kafele turned as the pale male shuffled out of the den, limbs quivering slightly with either fear or weakness. It was hard to tell. When Skare didn't meet their gaze he attributed it to fear and honestly he couldn't blame him. There were freshly healed wounds all over his body. The beating he had endured didn't fit with the Stormborn way of things, even the more enthusiastic ones. An injured Thrall was a useless one. Perhaps he'd been found like this?

"Hello, Skare. I'm Kafele," he said, keeping his voice gentle. He knew his and Hila's size probably wasn't helping matters in winning his trust, but perhaps a gentle tone could soften him up a bit. "I'm a healer. If you'll permit it, I can look over any wounds you might have that are still healing up, make sure they're all right."

He did want the other male to have some say over his own health after all. He didn't want to force him into anything.

Vashtya