Kerchak watched the little ones play, running in circles and hiding behind heavy brush. Not but a few days ago, his own son had been among them, happy and carefree; safe. It was startling to realize how quickly things changed.
Why hadn't he been able to save him? He was supposed to be their leader, their rock, and he had failed in protecting his own son. His child was dead, and his mate was more distant than ever.
Kala shut herself off from the rest, favoring to sit out social gatherings and stare at at nothing for hours on end. Kerchak wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but he did not know how, and his responsibility was to everyone, not just her. He kept his distance for the most part, not knowing what to say or do, and having no one to seek advice from.
Kerchak sighed gently and looked away, walking to the head of a group deep in conversation that faltered as he approached. They were on the move, for neither he nor his mate could stand to be in the place Kiran had died.
"Has anyone seen Kala?" he asked, eyes scanning each face for a liar; someone covering for her.
"I haven't," one offered.
"Neither have I," said another.
He grunted gently and sighed again. He was just about to turn when someone said, "I think I did. She ran off." She pointed. "Over there, somewhere."
He paused, glancing in the direction of the pointed finger. He felt his insides turn to ice. He nodded his thanks, and walked away from the squeals of laughter. He worried every day about his mate, wondered if one day, she just wouldn't come back. He eventually took a small fleet out to search for Kala, who still hadn't returned. His dread grew with every tree they passed. What if today was the day? What if she didn't come back? He couldn't stand to lose her, too.
"Mama, look!" Terk said, drawing everyone's attention to a clearing. He gave thanks when he saw her appear, and a throng of apes surrounded her. He stayed back a while longer, letting the rest greet her, first. He sighed and lowered his head, thankful for her safe return. He slowly approached. Everyone backed off, letting him through.
"You know he's not so bad once you get used to him," Terk said, bouncing and nuzzling the hairless pink thing. She took one look at Kerchak and quickly handed it back to Kala, averting her eyes. She pointed nervously. "Kala's gonna be its mother now."
In her arms, the pink thing squirmed and babbled, trying but failing to crawl away. Kerchak leaned in close, giving it a quick sniff. No, it definitely wasn't anything he was familiar with.
Kala looked into his eyes sadly. "Kerchak, I saved him from Sabor."
His heart hurt for her. He began to shake his head gently but then stopped. "Kala," he said gently, brushing his fingers against her arm, "it won't replace the one we lost."
"I know that," she answered, looking away. "But…he needs me."
So strange. Small, thick little fingers and toes and giant, sea green eyes. Chubby little arms, and hair the color of Kala's. That wasn't the only thing on his mind, though. How would it fit in with their group? It had no hair; its hands and feet were all wrong. Could it even climb?
"But it…it…" How did she not see it? "Kala, look at it. It's not our kind." The hope was strong in her eyes, but he just couldn't do it. The child, for all he knew, would be a huge liability. He shook his head. "No. You have to take him back."
"Take him back?" Kala repeated in disbelief. "But he'll die."
"If the jungle wants him, then—"
"I want him."
"I cannot let you put our family in danger." Couldn't she see it was for her own good? For the good of everyone?
She held the little pink thing up by the underarms. "Does he look dangerous to you?"
And that was when he lost it. He stood up on his hind legs and roared savagely, beating at his chest. Anyone else would have backed down, but Kala only looked at him even harder, protecting the small one in her arm. She wouldn't back down. For some reason, this…creature meant a lot to her.
When he composed himself, he asked, "Was it alone?"
"Yes. Sabor killed his family."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," Kala whispered. "There are no others."
"Then you may keep him."
The look that blossomed on his mates face was almost worth the risk to the family. "Kerchak, I know he'll be a good son."
"I said he could stay," he said, glaring. How she could forget the loss of their son, Kiran, with the finding of a baby…something, he did not know, but if it would make her happy… "That doesn't make him my son."
The rest had long moved away, sensing the conversation private. He turned to them. "We will nest here for the night."
He turned his back on her, signaling the end of the discussion, and walked off to oversee the building of the nests, his heart heavier than he had ever known.
I haven't yet decided if this will be a one shot or a few-shot of Kerchaks point of view throughout Tarzans childhood. We'll see. Also, I named Kala and Kerchak's son, Kiran. It means "a ray of light."