Changes Looming

Nyota was moving along the end of her territory, where the jungle met neutral territories, her head low. She was deep in thought, but ever vigilant, wary eyes flickering around her. The cubs were now old enough to walk and talk, and they were able to eat meat, so their dependence on Nyota lessened with every passing day. More often, the jungle queen found herself leaving them in the care of Duara or another lioness, as she began to assume her duties again. More often than not, she lingered near the borders, as she was that day, mis-matched eyes constantly searching the horizon for the pure white pelt of the king of the Coldlands.

Nyota felt happy to watch her litter grow, but the shadow of her past deeds loomed over her constantly, and she knew the day would soon come where their lives would change forever. She had accepted this inevitability since the cubs' birth, having full faith that Ismahel would remain true to his word and return, even making an attempt to somehow grow less attached to the cub she knew the lion would take. But it was not in her maternal instincts to treat the boy any differently than she had treated his sister, with the care and discipline befitting a prince and a princess. She was certain that, whenever Ismahel did reappear in the jungle, he would be proud of the son he had created months ago, despite Nyota's guile. He would no doubt be pleased to see that his son took after him in appearance, as well.

The fact that Sakitu would remain a prince was one of the few things that gave Nyota comfort when she was forced to consider what would take place soon. Even if she never saw her son again, she knew that his high position would mean he would be well taken care of so long as Ismahel remained in power. Something inside of her warned her that it would not be long, and she had even taken to moving the cubs from one den to another so that Ismahel would not locate them when he did arrive. The winds suddenly shifted, blowing cold air from the north like an omen, and she caught a familiar but dreaded scent on the breeze. Freezing in her tracks, Nyota turned to look into the savanna, a low sigh parting her lips as her body became rigid with nervous anticipation.

As much as it would pain her, Nyota had long accepted that Ismahel would be back, and for the sake of her pride, she knew she had better be on her best behavior. It would do her no good to lash out at him, or to break down in a sobbing mess. She could not feign a smile in greeting as he approached, but Nyota nodded in positive acknowledgement when he spoke. "Yes. I suspected we would be seeing you again soon. Follow me, please." She was straight-forward, no need to exchange meaningless niceties at this point.

Turning away, she began to lead in the direction where the cubs were safely hidden, happy to have an excuse to look away from the white lion. Clearing her throat, she spoke after a long, uncomfortable moment. "There were only two in the litter, both of whom survived. One male, one female." It went without saying which Ismahel would prefer, and Nyota would not argue. If he tried to take both, it would not be a pretty sight, but he seemed respectful enough and Nyota kept her emotions in check. Part of her was angry, but she was more upset with herself than Ismahel for putting each of them in such an awkward situation.

It was not long before they reached the secret den, nearly completely hidden beneath the roots of a giant, oversized palm tree. She had expected to see Duara keeping watch, but another lioness was in charge, who quickly bowed her head when Nyota came into sight. The chocolate brown queen offered a nod to dismiss the lioness, whose eyes were wide as she looked at Ismahel before leaving the area. It was probably for the best that Duara was not present, for Nyota knew it would be even more difficult to keep herself under control, but her face was stoic as she sat before the small den where both of the cubs slept inside. "Here."

Nyota remained silent as the young father saw his offspring for the first time, allowing him his moment. Genetics were a funny thing, and Ismahel was apparent in both of the cubs, more so than Nyota herself. The white pelt and snowy markings were stunning though. Hopes for cubs just like the ones she had given birth to had been why Nyota had chosen Ismahel. Indeed, she was not surprised that the other monarch would claim the white cub, but the reason behind his choice was not what Nyota had anticipated. In fact, he had set his sight on his white son before even learned that he was the male of the litter, and Nyota found it impossible to hide the faint pleased smile that appeared. Perhaps she had not given the Coldlander king enough credit, for he was fair in his regard towards his children, and it comforted Nyota greatly to know that her son would have a decent father.

"That is the male. We have called him Sakitu." The name, meaning "white frost," paid obvious homage to the kingdom that he would soon call home. She was reluctant to offer information about her daughter though, still wary that he might try to take her and leave Nyota with nothing. It seemed unfair for him to leave him in the dark though, so after a pause, she added, "Our princess is Nyima. You can trust she will be properly cared for and loved."

Nyota peered in at the sleeping cubs, but in that moment, the reality of the situation was beginning to affect her, but she held back her sadness. She craned her neck to pick Sakitu up gently by the scruff of his neck, leaving the girl cub still sleeping alone inside the den. The white cub was then set down at the front paws of his father, which were as big as the youngster himself. Nyota then looked away, gaze falling to her own pale forepaws, inhaling sharply to steady her nerves. "Despite what has happened between us, know that the Lowlanders will be here, should your pride need our assistance someday. The future of the Coldlands is my concern now, as well, though I will not be traveling there personally unless it is necessary." She glanced to Sakitu, no longer able to hide to look of heartbreak that graced her delicate features, knowing she may never see her snowy son again. "I do not anticipate it will be, though. You are free to go."

Nyota watched Sakitu wake up to greet his father for the first time, before asking what was happening. Clearing her throat, she tried to find the right words for a cub so young. "Do you remember what I have told you? There are other prides that live in different places, and that is where your father lives. This is your father." She nodded towards Ismahel, finally managing to force a smile, so that the cub would not be frightened. "He has come to take you to your home, Sakitu, where you will blend in. Nyima belongs here, and you belong in the Coldlands." Nyota had mentioned all of this before to her son, but now that the moment was upon them, she hoped that he would understand.

The male cub was so little though, and now it seemed Duara would not have a chance to say goodbye. This hurt Nyota more than she could have anticipated, but she didn't want a long, painful, drawn out scene. It would only be worse for Sakitu to see the lioness mourn his departure from the Lowlands. "From now on, you will address your father. He will take care of you, and you will be a prince of the mountains, adored by all," she said softly, if only to comfort herself with the hope that he would lead a good life, though one far away from the rest of his family. She lowered herself again to give the white cub a final lick on the cheek, but could not bring herself to make empty promises that the two would someday meet again. There was no telling what would happen next, and Nyota did not pretend to know, or offer false hope to herself or Sakitu.

All she would have to comfort herself once the white cub was gone was the knowledge that a prince would certainly be well taken care of, especially one with a father that had no mate and no other cubs. She would have Nyima, as well. Both the Coldlands and the Lowlands now had heirs to their respective thrones to protect, and she was certain Ismahel would do his best. Her gaze shifted between father and son, bracing herself for the moment Ismahel picked Sakitu up. She would not fight it, though part of her wished she could.

((Wow, this post was terrible, it's what I get for posting when I'm half-asleep x.x))

The cubs were both so young, it was possible their memories of each other would fade away as time passed. Nyota herself had only the vaguest of memories from when she was that small. Would it be worse if they did remember each other, or if they forgot that they were not always the only one? Hopefully, an early separation would prove to be the best decision, and there was no day like the present. Now Sakitu would have to listen to his father, rely on him alone and learn from him instead of his mothers in the jungle. Ismahel offered a compliment, stating that he knew his daughter would be raised well, but no smile was present on Nyota's face. It was difficult to face the fact that she had created this situation, though in the end, she had no regrets. There was no changing what had happened.

The chocolate brown lioness simply nodded in agreement when Ismahel mentioned dark times. The Lowlands did not need any new enemies, and having another ally in the world was a wonderful thing for her pride. Part of her was relieved that some resolution had been reached between the two, but it was not enough to make her feel better. Nyota hoped that Ismahel was right and that the white cub would someday return, if only to visit the rest of his family that remained there. At a loss for words, she could only nod again as the lion finally picked up the cub and turned to leave. She couldn't bring herself to say 'goodbye.'

There would be a good deal of explaining necessary once Nyima woke up, and she dreaded to think how Duara would react to find the cub suddenly gone, but Nyota wished now that her friend would return quickly. As Ismahel left the area, Nyota's ears folded back against her skull, and once he was a safe distance away, she finally allowed the tears to fall freely. She had gotten what she originally wanted, and so had Ismahel, but watching the two white lions vanish from sight felt like getting struck in the chest. Nyota turned away to lay down at the mouth of the den, crying silently to herself.