XXXII

By the River

Is it worth living when all that you love is dead?

-Questions of the Folk

A light breeze fluttered through the dry grasslands. Few trees were scattered about, which gave the relief of shade. Most denizens of these wild lands preferred the muddy bank of a flowing river, though. Something upon that bank moved. It was blanketed in the earth's wet dirt, still drenched from the water itself. No one else seemed to be about. Abruptly, the animal began to choke on nothing. When her coughing was done, Meersha was crying the name, "Zarazu!"

Finally, she lifted herself from the ground, only to call once more, "ZARAZU!" only louder.

There was no answer. Instinctively, her nose began to twitch and her ears perked, just noticing she was alone, in a vast environment. Zarazu was not there. Suddenly, though, images forced themselves into her mind and she remembered the war. So many deaths! So much bloodshed! But as the frightened lioness tried to calm herself down and attempt to shake the caking mud off her coat, she gave a yelp. The pain – the agony in her left forepaw was not bearable, and she sat down, eyes scrunching up. When she opened them again, she did her best to ignore the throbbing. It was most likely a sprain, having come from her fall...

And then, Meersha gasped. Her fall! She had fallen!...No. She was pushed! And by her own pride member! Instantly, the lioness snarled at nothing, glaring into the distance as she recalled the hatred she saw in Yawnda's eyes before she was pushed. That old lion could not have even taken pity on Meersha and spared her life for that. No. And now, if Meersha was to ever meet that lioness again, she would not show pity.

A groan escaped from somewhere, and Meersha jerked her head to the right. Could it be? Was she not alone? Carefully forcing herself to her paws, the young one began to limp slowly. She only haulted in her tracks when she could see another mangled body, sprawled out in a large mud puddle. From its golden hide, she could tell it was another lioness. Meersha sniffed.

"Yawnda!" she snarled aloud.

The lioness, even more covered in muk, opened her eyes, and instantly grinned up at her.

"Why, isn't it Izegbe," Yawnda weakly whispered.

"Murderer!" Meersha hissed in rage. "Betrayer!"

"Oh?" and the old one lightly lifted her head, squinting her eyes, as if trying to see Meersha. "Is it not I who saved your life?"

"What?!" and Meersha jerked her head back in astonishment. "Saved me life? By pushing me down a cliff into a river?!"

"Foolish! You may have grown but you're just a cub on the inside!" Yawnda snarled, but was trapped in a coughing fit.

"What do you mean?" Meersha growled, more lowly, ears folded back as she glared down at the lioness. She was ready to rip Yawnda's throat out, and even her fur bristled, but she needed to know more.

Finally, as Yawnda's coughing wore off, she whispered, "You would've died...Those males, they would've killed you in a heartbeat. I was saving you."

Before Meersha could think she blurted out, as her eyes began to water, "Then why not let me die with my mate?! With my pride?!"

"It was Mother's dying wish."

Meersha gasped once more. In a moment, she began limp back and forth near the still lying lioness. She stopped when the pain was too much, and roared, "You should've let me die with my Kikaru!" She stopped herself and growled. "No...my Zarazu..."

"He died. Just like the rest of the pride." Yawnda growled.

"If I could've chosen to have survived like this or died with my pride, I would've chosen to die at my mate's side!" Meersha's anger could do nothing but overlap any sadness she could've felt from the news of her mate.

If it had not been for her left forepaw, she would've struck the old lioness right then. But it was easy enough to see that Yawnda was to die very soon. She had been too old and weak to survive the results of the fall and the river much longer.

"It was Mother's wish. And I fulfilled it. Now no one must ask me for anything, for my time is here." Yawnda exclaimed, voice growing more distant.

"Zarazu was right!" Meersha cried. "I am not Izegbe! I am Meersha!...Meersha White-Feather!"

For a moment, there was silence, before Yawnda said, "Then Mother was wrong."

"Huh?"

"They all were. I could tell you were never Izegbe, even when I killed your beloved cub and blamed it on a male lion."

"Murderer!" Meersha screeched again. She could not believe her ears.

"Are you not a murderer for killing that male?"

Meersha lowered her head as she whimpered, "I'm not...I'm not Izegbe..."

"You never were. And oh how Mother would've been disappointed in you..." Yawnda whispered, with a smirk.

How could Meersha have done that? How could she have gone from a small pride of her loving friends, to this? But Yawnda had taken her away from herself. Yawnd had killed Rombu. Now this time, as pitiful as the sight was, Meersha would have her revenge. Looking up, she said shakily to Yawnda, "I'm going to kill you."

"More murdering? Well I'm sorry dear, but I'm going to die anyway..." Yawnda's breathing began to get raspy.

Meersha sat down, watching, tail curled around herself. Perhaps it was better to watch her suffer and let nature take its course so that no hard moral could be set upon Meersha once more.

"I will never be Izegbe. I am Meersha. And I will never pass on the way of the Broken-Claw...because that way is wrong."

"Mother was wrong...in choosing you." Yawnda chuckled, before her eyes grew as she gazed at nothing...and her breathing silenced. She was dead.

The younger lioness got up, and began to limp east. She could not show herself in the presence of her brother, Gatu or Lusala – who had loved her and stayed with her – not after she had ditched them. Nor could she not go back to a ruined land where bodies of a murdering pride would lie...where her loving Zarazu would be. Not that she could if she even wanted to, for she could see that the river had split in three different places farther south – the way she had come from. As she climbed over the log that she had fallen on – it was now wedged between the banks, making it perfect as a small bridge – the lioness made up her mind. She would go out, and travel the savannah...alone. She did not diserve anyone else, not after all the mistakes she had made; at least, that was Meersha's conclusion. Perhaps when she got older, she would retire to a quiet valley, or maybe a knoll that could remind her of the home she once had with her siblings and mother, and her caretakers. Or maybe she could find one with a tree that would also look somewhat like the territory she had founded with Banjija and the other two. For now, she would just go where her paws went.

Even with her wounded paw, the lioness suddenly took off, sprinting as best she could, farther northeast. For now, she needed to run. She needed to get away from all her thoughts and worries, as well as memories past. After all, Yawnda had said Zarazu and the others were dead....She would have plenty of time to mourn for her lover while she aimlessly traveled.