Chapter 8: Mohatu's Idea

As they made their way back to the pride rock, Bashasha and Mohatu exchanged no words. The sun was setting, creating a pink and orange hue in the sky, and all that could be heard were the sounds of their paws crunching against the dry, dusty ground.

Mohatu sighed. He hated silence. Especially when he knew it had something to do with him or something he had done wrong. Guilt began to nag at him about what he had said to Rafiki earlier. He honestly hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. Apparently, adolescents weren't as invincible and tough as they made themselves out to be, because Rafiki had been positively crushed. Mohatu himself remembered that doubt was an ugly thing to an adolescent. Adolescence was a time to expand, and see how capable you were of taking care of yourself. Doubt from others made the whole process that much more difficult.

Just when they were beginning to ascend the rock, Bashasha turned to Mohatu. "What task could be so great that you don't believe Rafiki could do it?" she asked, slowing to a stop.

Mohatu, a few steps ahead of her, stopped as well, and closed his eyes painfully. "Please, Bashasha, no guilt trips," he requested, "I feel bad enough as it is."

Bashasha shook her head adamantly, and began to walk over to Mohatu. "No, no, no, let me re-phrase that," she said, as she sat down. "What did you want him to do for you?"

Mohatu sighed again. At first, he wasn't sure whether it would be such a good idea to tell her, since it might tip her off that he was part of something bigger than he was admitting. But then, Bashasha didn't seem like one to assume, so maybe it would be safe. "You really wanna know?" he asked.

Bashasha nodded. Mohatu started. "Well, I've had a chance to look over these lands, and it seems like the dire situation is starvation, am I correct?" Again, Bashasha nodded. "Well, starvation is caused by lack of game. Look around." The two slowly let their eyes travel across the rugged and dusty scenery of the Wastelands. "Game no longer roams these lands because there is no grass for them. No food. So they leave to find somewhere that does have food. And what do most of the herds eat?"

Bashasha blinked. "Grass?" she guessed.

Mohatu nodded. "Exactly. And why is there no grass here?"

Bashasha looked down, and her eyes flicked back and fourth as she thought. Suddenly, her eyes widened in realization. "No rain."

Mohatu gave a smile of satisfaction. "Exactly," he said slowly, "so, I was hoping that Hekima would have some trustworthy skills in the field of weather manipulation. But since the only one that can help us is Rafiki...I'm not so sure." Bashasha looked at him pryingly. He drew back. "It's not that I don't believe in him, it's just that weather manipulation is no small deed. If one thing goes wrong..." He trailed off, and Bashasha's eyes wandered away from his, signalling that she understood his angle.

"I suppose you're right," she replied. She looked to the sky, which was beginning to grow dark. "But it doesn't look like we're going to have some rain for quite awhile. Perhaps you should give Rafiki a chance. It's better than nothing."

Mohatu sighed and looked away, realizing that she might be right. "Come on," he said, "let's get back to the rock before the other's worry about us."

Meanwhile, a few meters away, a smile flashed in the darkness of the shadows and sprinted toward the pridal rock.