I Don't Want To Know The [Truth] (Tags Vox)

[Hope]

My Life Is Crashing Down Around Me
And I Can't Do Anything

The skies were weeping thousands of tears and crying in thunderous voices, but no one knew why. One sad soul believed the very skies wept and cried because of the tragedies in her life, but it was silly to think so. Truth be told, it was only the rainy season, and at the moment, one of the stronger rainstorms raged in the heavens. Creatures of all sizes scrambled for cover, but one soul, the sad one, remained uncovered and exposed to the cold drops of water. She sat perched on a large flat rock with her face hung dejectedly and her chocolate brown eyes closed. It was the ultimate image rejection and grief, and it seemed the world was devoid of hope and love at that moment. Her russet brown fur had darkened considerably, and it appeared to be almost black from the downpour of water. Even though torrents of rain came crashing down upon her, she did not flinch. If it hadn’t been for the subtle expanding of her sides, one could have though that she was a statue. For many there was no reason to mourn or feel pain, but for the lioness, she did have a reason to feel such agony. It had been a year since she had lost contact with her brother, and she had been homeless just shy of a year too. Life was so hard when you were alone, and Sarai was beginning to feel the effects of her solitary life. She yearned for the contact of another lion or to hear a kind voice; however, she did not ready to live with a pride. Deep down, Sarai was terrified of the possibility of being hurt, rejected, or worse...betrayed. Slowly but surely, the downpour began to thin until it was only a drizzle. Still Sarai remained where she was, too lost in thought to realize that the rain was coming to an end. Her eyes stared unblinkingly at her paws the lioness unconsciously entered a place in her mind best left forgotten.

‘A large dark brown male lounged nearby, his golden brown eyes watching his pride and their activities. He had a beautiful family unit with nine sturdy and very fertile lionesses. Four were currently caring for their litters which ranged from one to four, and the rest were assisting the mothers with the care of Kyan’s offspring. One lioness in particular held the King’s interest. She wasn’t old enough to mate; therefore, not counted in the total tally of lionesses Kyan controlled, but the male was eager to breed with her. All he had to do to breed with her in safety was banish her brother, Tabansi, and then precious Sarai would be the next lioness to carry Kyan’s seed. A small sly smile touched his lips as he watched the brother and sister. They were not originally from the pride, but Kyan had accepted them nevertheless despite the fact that one was a male who could breed with Kyan’s females. Lately, the dark King had seen some cubs that resembled Tabansi, and he had the sneaky suspicion the rival male was breeding with Kyan’s females and trying to undermine the male’s power. Suddenly, the pride stilled, and Kyan looked up to see what had caused the silence. Netskadee, one of the younger lionesses in Kyan’s pride, stood silently in the circle her pride members had formed. At her feet sat a pair of half-grown cubs, and one had eyes the shade of chocolate brown. None of the pride had such eyes except Tabansi and Sarai. Kyan roared with anger and leapt at Netskadee’s cubs. As he shoved the shocked lioness away, Kyan’s teeth latched onto the smallest cub’s neck and he swiftly broke its neck. Behind him, Netskadee tried vainly to protect her cubs, but her pride members would not let her close. Kyan took the second cub and killed it as quickly has he had the first. With his muzzle wet with blood, the large male locked eyes with the only one that could have helped bring these cubs life. Tabansi and Kyan stared angrily at each other, their bodies tense and ready to spring. Kyan sprang first, but Tabansi was fast enough to pull his ahead and neck out of danger. Although Kyan thought Tabansi would stay and fight, Tabansi had other ideas. Without of a glance at Sarai, Tabansi bounded away with Kyan and the pride hot on his heels. It was the last time Sarai saw her brother…’

A gentle breeze ruffles the lioness’s fur as she emerged from the memory of the past. She blinked slowly as though surprised to find that the rain had ended. Quietly descending to the ground, the young lioness began to quickly trot east. Before she had gone more then a few yards, a baby gazelle, probably separated from its herd during the storm, burst from the underbrush. Sarai sprung after it as she finally acknowledged the hunger gnawing at her belly. The long rest had given her strength and her hunger gave her paws wings. Sarai quickly overtook the doomed creature and pulled it down with a well aimed strike. Her teeth grasped the back of its neck, and the small creature’s life ended more swiftly then it had begun. Sarai ripped open its belly with a sort of desperation that only a lion who had gone without food for many days could possess. It was a relief to ease the sharp pain in her belly, and Sarai hoped that her hunting achievements would continue like this for sometime. She was quick to eat her fill has a number of eager scavengers began to close on her location. As soon the small lioness was a few yards away, the hungry scavengers converged on the kill and began to squabble over the meager bits the lioness had left. Sarai ignored their raucous calls as she proceeded to head east. She didn’t know where she was headed, but the lioness sensed that whatever she was about to experience was an unwelcome twist of fate.

But Cry...

[Vox]

The King's pink tongue rasped down his foreleg carefully, threading out the small bits of dirt that had found their way onto his coat. It was retracted, and he shifted his head so as to have a better angle at his shoulder, licking it briskly, and giving it a gentle nibble. Community grooming time would have been the common time for this job, but today, he found himself alone going about his washing. The constant swishing of the light wind through the rough, scrubby bushes was soothing to his ears, and Truth almost felt regret at the knowledge that his beloved dry season was gone. A man of conflicting interests, one might say. The heat irritated him after a while, and in company he became a less amiable man when his mane offered him less shelter than he should like. But the sun...Was one he admired. Admired, from a safe distance, and smiled at, purring. It gave life, and it also made life a damned nuisance, at times. Romeo had once scorned the moon for it's vestal robe, preferring Juliet to be as the sun, radiant and shining in the east. Truth...Had quite a different taste in ladies. The moon was so much wiser, he thought. Sun was good, in it's way, but he felt it was too far away to be truly knowledgable. Always watching from a distance, and yet exherting it's presence unbearably onto the poor creatures of the earth. It was the reason they were all alive, and it liked to strut, every now and then. The moon...Was humble. Reserved, yes, but not shy. She came out boldly when none other would dare light the sky, and she stood confidently in her place. Mocking, almost, though, she would peer down at them with a slightly insolent smirk that said 'The sun may have given you life, darlings, but I am what keeps your planet in balance, remember, remember!'. The ocean, how he loved her so, was governed by the moon; as where the seasons, and Time. Space moved in his own way, but even he could not exist without things to pass the Time way. Hmmm...The High King mused on these matters silently as he cleaned himself.

Picking himself up with regal ease, he attempted to keep his golden pelt dust-free for a few brief moments, as he stretched his long torso comfortably, and flexed his long, lean fore-legs. The slight shade of a scrubby little tree, rather stunted, more of a bush than anything else, was abandoned, and the male began to tread back along his footsteps. It wasn't as if he had anywhere to be exactly, or any appointments to keep, but it was always wise, he thought, to have a vague idea of where one is going, and be perfectly willing to leave such a plan hanging, if something more important came up. Sharp, dark claws slid in and out of his velvety paws, kneading the ground in a pleased fashion, accompanied by a rumbling rattle from the back of his throat. The hot sun beat down a little less brutally than usual, and he felt glad that it would not be long before the rains really came down on his beloved land. His Lady Eiroka needed water, and the drizzling rains would soon pour into her mouth in great gushing waves. Tail twitched behind the gentleman, and cheeks twitched up in a small grin, whiskers appearing to spasm. It appeared that a young lady had chanced upon these soon-to-be-rain-filled lands...Would be rude of him not to greet her. Most unproper. The always-civil sir took his time in approaching, his long strides slow. There was no rush. The young pips who went rushing about everywhere simply did not understand that life, though short, could not be enjoyed, and would indeed be made swifter, by the great speed in which they went about it. Things needed to be taken carefully, with relish, but not so slowly so as to be bored or made impatient. Happiness did not come to those who leapt about wildly, scrabbling to find it. She only alighted on those whose mind was still, whose body was poised, who spirit was filled with a contemplative grace. As a butterfly mightn't ever settled on a rushing river, preferring the tranquil reed in a soft, summer breeze. Calm, relaxed, composed. Unreadable.

"Would it be very bold of me to venture a question, m'arm, so early in our latent conversation?" The words rolled out with grace, his deep, melodious tones kind, gentle, but lordly. There was something wild about his voice, something eternally roaring and confident, even if he spoke in a low, unobtrusive manner. He had paced up to her evenly, and fallen into step with the merrily jogging lioness; matching his long, slow stride to her quicker ones. If she stopped, he would as well, though not in a way that hinted at him following her. It would almost seem as if he had merely found the desire to pause as she did, an appropriate distance between the unoffending lion, and the other fair Lady. "And yet," He continued, offering a sigh, looking almost sorrowful, "I find myself already offering a query, as I beg you to forgive any impertinence for a future offense." It seemed he could not escape the Questions, no matter where he went. Questions were everywhere, more than he could ever hope to find a reply to. Silly questions, sad questions, jolly questions, questions that...Would simply refuse to be answered, for all the different opinions that surrounded them. But it was that that he loved about them. The history, the depth, the lack of explanations for why they must be brought to attention. Those were the good questions. The ones that truly made you think, question more, find inner peace through the knawing, pleading anxiety to answer it. He couldn't help but feel that if these questions were corporeal, he would fall avidly in love...And be as rejected for his nature as the rest of the world. These questions did not seem to like him very much. Truth irked them, forced them to think rationally, to make valid arguements, to show in what exact way they were correct or otherwise. These good questions found him confining at times, overpowering, overbearing, exacting, too...Controlling. They were free-spirited things, and he couldn't help but feel irrevocably drawn to them but...They same could not be said for them to him. However, the very best of questions, like the very best of society, were the ones that made some form of sense. They could be asked, and they could receive replies. They were open, they were logical, and they put one in a musing frame of mind. Those where the ones that loved him.