I
Murder
Ziku eyed the golden grasslands. A single acacia recited beside the small stream, both producing memories from out this serval's whole, short life. His black ears twitched, and his eyes were seldom open by the time the sun began to set. It didn't take long for two graceful figures to appear out of nowhere, about a half a mile away. They headed northward, toward a sun-dried shrub that nestled itself under the lonely tree. There, as quickly as they had come, they vanished from the evening, taking shelter in those ancient thickets. Ziku yawned. There was nothing ordinary about this night. When it came, it mingled in the savanna, the moon and stars lighting up the dark blue sky. A lonely breeze occasionally swept by, and a chior of various insects filled the air. There was even a lonely hyena sulking about in the distance. No matter. This denizen was no threat. After all, Ziku had nothing to offer the fellow - he had had his meal earlier that day. A proud catch of not one, but two rodents. Ah, life was good - mellow. And that, above all else, was what Ziku could've asked for. A relaxing life in the grasslands.
About eleven months ago, at the very shrub beside the acacia, a young female serval had given birth to a litter of two; one of each gender. There, she nursed the pair and took care of them; showed them how to hunt and survive. Now that those eleven full moons had gone by, each one full of careful teachings and new experiences, Ziku had the handsome, slender body of an adult - almost. He, being as laid back as he was, had easily pulled himself from the thicket from which he was born. Every day he went off on his own, and every night he'd come back to the same spot upon an incline that overlooked all that was known to him - the grasslands, the stream, the acacia, the shrub. And every night, he watched his mother and sister return to the thicket.
Now that his family was back, the serval closed his brown eyes completely.
"Hey," someone whispered.
Ziku jerked his head up, ears now perked as he searched for the source of the noise.
"Kiro," he hissed, his tone a mixture of happiness and irritation. "Why are you here?"
The female serval, who was just a week or so younger than Ziku, grinned, surveying her friend. "I came t' say goodnight - that's all."
Ziku stared back into her jade eyes, sparkling so much with youth and mischief it was hard not to smile back. But he didn't - he frowned.
"You shouldn't have come," he whispered. "This isn't your territory, you know,"
Ziku felt his heart drop as he watched the female's grin vanish, just like that. But he was surprised to see it quickly return.
"You're always like that," purred Kiro in amusment, now taking a step forward to nose her friend. "So serious at times, and then so mellow at other times.
The male cleared his throat, before explaining earnestly, "What would she say if she knew you were here?"
Kiro cocked her head for a moment. "Who? Your mother?" She then giggled. "It wouldn't matter."
Ziku's mother was a very territorial cat - even Ziku himself was rarely allowed near the shrub these days, though it did not bother him at all. The relaxing independence suited him well.
"It will if the wind shifts," Ziku pointed out. "And there's not just my mother, but Oola, too."
"Your sister? So?"
"So that's two against one."
"No it's not. You're on my side...aren't you?"
Ziku gulped, shifted uncomfortably, then replied, "Of course. But I just get nervous when you're here, that's all."
"Why? Why does it matter? I already know it's Yisha's lands - I smelt her markings and took note of them. It's not like I covered them with my own marks or something."
Crunch.
The two stood there in silence for a moment, unmoving and stiff. Ziku's large ears twitched, and he scented the air.
"A rodent, or something," he whispered to Kiro's questioning face. "Anyway," he continued, the two relaxing once more. "I think you should go back to your territory."
Kiro rolled her eyes. "I'm going to but, I just thought you wanted to say goodnight, too. But if that's all you have to say to me..."
The female turned around, beginning to pad away. Ziku sat there, watching his friend go off into the distance, feelings no doubt in pain. He shook his head. By the time the sun rose the next day, Kiro would be the same again. It didn't matter if he followed to apologize or not.
Ziku lie down once more, eyes closed. If only he could fall into a light sleep for a few hours...
Suddenly, the serval jumped. He gazed around. It was morning, and the sun had risen. The sun's rays blanketed his gold and black fur, causing him to shudder. Or perhaps, it was not the heat - it might have been something else...the very thing that caused him to awake in such an abrupt manner. A sound - a cry. But from whom? A dying animal obviously...a rodent? Had Yisha or Oola caught something? Or was it someone else's prey?
Ziku turned to look at the shrub. By now, his sister and mother would've been up and about. The adolescent turned his head from side to side, before padding toward the very place he was birthed at. In no more than ten minutes, he arrived to the acacia, and the surrounding thicket. He scented the air carefully, finding the aroma of his family both relieving and awkward. It was about three months ago that he had decided to live on the outskirts of his mother's territory, and so left this den. Not once since then did he try to come back, but he knew if he had, his mother nor sister would be too fond of the action. So he was careful and silent, making sure of their absence.
They were no doubt, gone.
The male stuck his head into a small hollow in the thicket, where it opened once inside. Nothing. Nothing but twigs and sticks, twisting and lacing their way around each other, like mutated, dead fingers. As a cub, this place was the center of Ziku's harmony. Now it was almost nothing to him - if anything, a feeling of indifference permited here.
Clearing his throat, he pulled his head from the den, and glanced around once more. What was that cry? What creature had uttered such an agonizing sound?
Kiro! Ziku suddenly thought, gasping. He turned toward the east, and took off up his incline. He sprinted almost as gracefully as his mother and sister did. But soon, Ziku halted. A faint odor came to his nostrils, causing his nose to wrinkle. Against all insinct, the serval began to follow the scent. It was not like him to do this - to go straight toward the danger. It was not something a normal animal would do, let alone him.
The smell grew stronger, and Ziku's heart began to race. A rotting log nearby was covering the source of the smell...Something was dead. Something, or someone...
Ziku froze. The still body of his sister lie there, open and uneaten. A heartless act caused the young serval to lie there, with flies and insects beginning to pour around her. Even a few vulchers circled the skies above. Her guts and blood were exposed to the world. Ziku forced himself to take a step back from Oola's carcass. A feeling shoved its way into Ziku, causing his stomach to ache. He was used to seeing dead bodies, ever since he was old enough to start feeding on solid foods...He was used to the fact that every creature died...but something was missing. Why had Oola died? She was young and healthy, so it was not age nor disease that caused her falter. That meant a predator had to have taken her down. And though surely the scavengers could feast freely upon her body, the killer itself was gone. Nowhere to be seen.
"So young, so innocent." a voice whispered.
Ziku leapt, turning around, his fur bristling. "Mother!" he cried out, before he could help himself. "What's happened here?"
He studied his dame's face; an expression filled with the pain of loss and uncertainty. Yisha, a serval only two years older than Ziku himself, was torn from her daughter and companion.
"Mother?" Ziku urged again, though his fur was still bristled.
"I left for a drink at the stream," Yisha began, her soft voice cracking. "Then I heard her...and found her...like this..."
A couple vulchers landed. Ziku had to hold himself back from pouncing on the little creatures. After all, Oola was dead, and nothing could bring her back - it would be ten times worse if she was at least not given up for a reason. Besides, it's what Yisha had strongly taught her cubs - the meaning of life was to produce more life. But Ziku had the feeling his mother was trying her best as well not to chase the scavengers away.
"Did you see who it was?" Ziku finally asked, frowning.
Yisha shook her head. "My son... she has gone to the moon and the sun, like every living creature is meant to do...but for a reason untold."
Suddenly, before Ziku could stop himself, a strange new feeling of pain and revenge came, and he snarled, "I'll kill it!"
Yisha shook her head sadly. "If you do that, then you are just as bad as the creature itself."
"But, Mother," Ziku started, unbelieving. "There would be a reason - to avenge Oola!"
He looked around then, eyes wide once more.
"Is the creature still in the territory?" he whispered, looking about.
"Right now, I feel it is just us," Yisha replied, with such agony but at the same time, strength, it made Ziku proud to have been raised by such a serval. "I don't know if it shall come back or not, though."
There was a pause, before the male asked, "What are you going to do?"
Another moment of silence, before Yisha replied with, "You should not be asking what I am going to do, but rather what you are going to do."
Yisha bumped noses with her son, before turning around, no doubt heading back to the scrub. Ziku frowned, standing there, just yards away from his sister's dead body. What just happened? She is finally telling you to leave, Ziku heard a voice inside his head. Had Yisha said that a week ago, Ziku would have been more than happy to do so, starting a new chapter in his life. He probably would've left by himself in just another full moon or so. But the murder of his sister changed everything...
Ziku watched his mother pad off. He glanced at Oola's body for the last time, then turned, and headed to the east.