Seeking Peace ;;open;;

Malka was not normally one to stray from Pride Rock during the night. But, he had felt a need to be away from the pride to just have a relaxing evening. He had slowly settled into the he pride by now, but there were days he didn’t mind being away from the caves, finding a comfortable but easily protectable area for himself. He had slept in such dens all his life, so an occasional step away helped him not feel so homesick or reminded of the desperation he had left that had been his own pride.

His dusty brown pelt blended almost perfectly with the flat boulder he had found himself lounging on, eyes fixated on the night sky. It was clear and beautiful that night. No clouds, no scent of a storm, just a peaceful, star-filled void. The shorter-than-usual male let out a contented sigh, settled down in anticipation for a quiet, problem free night by then. A few hours had passed since he trekked out this way, feeling the late night sounds beginning to lull him to sleep...that was soon interrupted as a scent caught his attention.

Lifting his head, the black-maned male tilted his head curiously. The scent reminded him of Simba and Mufasa, yet it was unique enough he knew it was neither of them. Another of the royal family perhaps? Malka took a moment to sniff and taste the air, pinpointing where the scent was strongest before pushing himself from his resting spot and jumping down to follow Faraja’s scent. The further along he went, the more he realized it seemed to be leading to the border. The Outland border to be exact. Was the lioness patrolling or doing some last minute hunting? He knew some did prefer the darkness to hunt as opposed to broad daylight where they could be seen far more easily. It wouldn’t hurt to confirm either way surely.

Soon enough though, the male stopped. Realization struck swiftly as he found himself standing at the border, realizing the individual’s scent indeed had gone this way, over the border itself.

Malka hesitated to react, glancing back over his shoulder with uncertainty to follow. But, it was one of his pridemates who had left their territory under the cover of darkness. Were they leaving? Simply being adventurous? Curiosity tugged at the adult male too much to ignore the situation, taking his first steps across the border with caution, ears twitching and perked for signs of hyenas, jackals, or anything else to alert him of dangers. After all, the Pridelanders and hyena clans weren’t on the best of terms, which made this venture quite precarious. But, he pushed on, feeling familiar dusty and rocky terrain beneath his paws. It was an environment he was most adapted to, feeling a faint sense of familiarity that allowed him to move with more confidence, moving surprisingly quiet across the cracked earth as he followed Faraja’s scent all the way to the watering hole.

Crouched at first among the shadows, Malka quickly spotted the golden lioness, her coat standing out even in the darkness. Strange. She only seemed to be lounging about, staring up at the stars and seeming lost in her own thoughts. His mentally searched the faces to remember this lioness, taking a few minutes before it registered, Faraja. He had never really talked or interacted with her, but he was aware enough to know she was indeed part of the royal family, which made her being here alone all the more puzzling. “Is it really so wise to be out here alone?” Malka finally spoke, his deep voice not being hard to miss as he emerged from the darkness, brown eyes glowing in the darkness. “Even if you are seeking time away from home, it wouldn’t hurt to have a lookout at least keeping an eye out from a distance.”

Tags: Faraja;;

“Y’all shouldn’t be here you know.”

For a guy who smelled like the tomb, Mif’s ability to be sneaky when he wanted to was shocking. Mostly the trick was knowing which way the wind was blowing. Having then chosen to give himself away by speaking, he took a step out from the overhang. Mifupa’s face was cast in stark shadows as he looked down. His eyes sockets in particular were nearly black thanks to the lighting, appropriately making the undertaker’s face appropriately more skull-like. He stopped moving after a single step, nearly falling back into the background of the rock wall he was up on.

Mif knew his race got a reputation for being stupid, which was of course utter bull. He’d stayed downwind and had the higher ground, if things went south. And being smaller and not having to lean back on brute force, he was clever about getting out of trouble. Though Mif had nothing to gain from attacking, and his body language was clearly nonaggressive. He did have some genuine concern: an inattentive lion was begging to get destroyed by hungry predators. Pride (heh) and overconfidence in the face of other carnivores got plenty of lions killed before. He’d seen it happen… and prepared their bodies.

“Wrong neighborhood n’ junk,“ he continued, taking a few steps.

Moving further into the full starlight, the stark shadows dissipated, better revealing his features. In particular, the gentle chilled out wide smile on his face. Mif was the farthest thing from hostile, but wasn’t overly friendly— his demeanor was overwhelmingly casual. He appeared to focus on a specific spot on the rock ledge and then laid down on it. A paw papped on one of the larger stones in a pile near him, as he privately took bets on whether or not these two would be speciesist buttheads to him.