Logan approached his territory with a perfunctory sniff of the air.
No sign of any interloper, no scent of danger.
Only the clean liquid water-smell and faint tang of growing things - and the sweet, cloying scent of his mate, sitting near the den-tree.
He adjusted his burden gently, aware of the rapid beat of the small one's heart.
It was still asleep, hurt-asleep. Not quiet-sleeping.
For some reason, this concerned him, as he loped into the clearing.
He patted the small one, growling soothingly to end it's unconcious movements.
Scenting the air, he rumbled softly, carefully lowering the small figure to the grass before tucking his mate under his chin and nuzzling her in greeting.
She caressed his shoulders in return, and he held her a moment longer, stroking her head-fur contentedly.
Ororo was startled when she saw Logan lower a small figure to the ground near the huge tree roots on the left of the small lake, but nestled against him when he gathered her against him, rumbling a greeting.
"Logan, what happened?" she asked, smoothing his hair tenderly.
He cocked his head, sensing her puzzlement but not quite sure what was being asked.
Ororo looked up into his eyes, saw a flicker of gold dance in his gaze, and smiled, momentarily lost in that vivid warmth.
With an affectionate rumble, he caressed her hair again, then padded to the small figure shivering with fever under the tree. Curled in a ball, soft mumbles emerged from within the reddish coat, faint movement indicating the presence of heat exaustion.
Ororo knelt down, carefully running her fingertips over the clammy, fair skin, frowned.
Logan was smoothing cool water over the parched skin a moment later, trying to still the tremors that shook the thin frame with reassuring pats. He cocked his head, concern in his flickering gaze.
Shivering, the small figure's eyes flickered, and Ororo checked the calming pulse, the regular breathing.
Taking the thin wrist, Ororo was suprised at the twitch of muscles - the mark of an athlete more than a fragile youth.
"Logan?" she asked, looking up into the sun-golden eyes that met her's.
Cub. Hurt. was the pulse-eddy, touched with curiousity/puzzlement/concern.
"Where did you find the child, my love?" Ororo asked, gently. She delighted in using the last two words, her heart speeding into a thumm-thumm-thump of joy and love.
Logan's eyes had retreated to amber, clearly considering. Yet the flickers of golden that burned stubbornly near the iris spoke of love and tenderness, passion and trust.
Den-territory. Challenge. Cub. Image-flickers of hyenas charging, feral defiance, claim of territory that would not yield. Yet - glimmering in the background was concern for the cub. Protect the cub.
Ororo stroked Logan's cheek, hearing a soft thrumming rumble, almost a purr.
"My love." she whispered, tears of pride and tenderness glowing in her eyes.
Even now, Logan remained so quientessintally, completely - Logan.
Remy spat road-dust from his mouth, passing Rogue his hankerchief and patting a coughing Kurt on the back.
"Dis de place." he said, passing a generous tip to the driver.
The sand-dust-heat was almost oppressive, and he watched in sympathetically as Kurt wiped his hand over his face, fur taking on a sheen that indicated his discomfort.
"It's so hot." murmered Rogue, wiping her face.
The Cajun nodded, taking out a canteen of water and passing it around.
"Only way in is t' walk." he said, sympathetially.
"Let us get started, then, mein fruends." said Kurt, softly, golden eyes seeing the distant Killamanjaro. Strangely, he also felt something old and strong, gentle as a heartbeat, honest as an infant's first breath. Something new, yet infinately full of life's passion. It radiated from the very soil, the stones, the air. His fur was caressed by the wind, as if the earth whispered a greeting.
Ororo almost started to laugh when she realized that it was time to go meet with old Mopati.
She had no clothing, only the passion-shredded remains of such.
Yet, this was not Victorian-influenced America.
This was Africa, where nudity was no more than the expression of an individual, as simple as clothing in it's identification. Her people would not be concerned or shocked as such, and it struck her as amusing that she was so concerned.
With deft movements, she salvaged enough from their clothing to create a simple covering that more was a two-piece bathing suit than American modesty.
Logan had taken some of the oryx the lioness had returned with, leaving the vast majority for her to feed her cubs. Cutting it neatly into small, bite-sized chunks, he patted Ororo tenderly, watching attentively as she swallowed and smiled at him.
He yawned a few moments later, and stretched luxuriously, and Ororo could not resist caressing his chest, feeling the smooth movement of powerful muscles - and more, the strong beat of his heart.
"I need to go into the village, Logan." she said, caressing that silky hair, an almost dreamy smile touching her features.
Flicker of intrest, sniffing her in concern, hands caressing her hair and shoulders, protective, oddly tender.
"I'll be back soon, my love." she promised, as he tucked her briefly under his chin, giving a tender, soft sound between a croon and rumble.
Safe. Logan was adament, in that swirl-eddy-pulse. Mate. Safe.
"I will be careful."
Soon. Back. Come. Clearly, not only was he determined to wait for her, but if she did not return, he was promising to come for her.
A surge of pure joy mixed with love rose in Ororo's heart, and she kissed him deeply, feeling the warm strength of his lips, tasting the power and depth of his breath, wanting momentarily to lose herself in that, to simply be with Logan.
But she stroked his hair, then moved toward the village, aware of his eyes following her.
Unable to hide the sheer femininity in her walk, secretly enjoying his intrested gaze.
Casting off the habitual restraint that her time in America had taught her.
Storm had returned to Africa, physically, only a few days before.
But now Ororo returned in heart, mind, and soul.
Now that she felt the joy and love in her heart, the passion and tenderness of loving Logan, she had finally come back.
She was home.
They were home.