The Huntress at Sunset
13. The Water's Edge
Falana said nothing as she ate. When she finished, she got up and walked away. Five paces later she stopped, looking out into the night, waving and swishing her tail. Shaha, looking at Nengwalamwe with a tired, exasperated half-smile, got up and followed her impatient daughter.
The moon was riding low in the sky when Nengwalamwe finally rose. He grunted with effort and no little satisfaction as his full belly swung beneath him, thankful that Falana had not stayed long. Setting off at a slow trot, he meandered through the grasslands, heading in a roundabout way for the rock and a long lick and doze. He admired the scenery, noting with some irony that things looked a lot less ordinary in the moonlight, not to mention on a full stomach. He suspected that even Mtundu might look acceptable in this light. The thought goaded him onward, leading him to the deserted waterhole. He paused to refresh himself, lapping the cool liquid with relish, enjoying the sensation as it soothed his parched throat. After crouching to drink, he lifted himself to full height and looked around.
He looked again. The waterhole really was deserted. Maybe he could. Just once, for himself.
He stepped back a pace and looked around a last time - nothing.
He leaned forwards. The lean became a pace; a springing, running pace that took the adult male lion, mane, tail and all surging into the deepest part of the pool. The water parted under and around him, leaping from his sides in arcing sheets that tattered into countless tiny droplets.
A pair of wildebeest meandering down to the hole to drink bolted in terror when they saw a mad lion rolling like a hippopotamus in the muddy water. They would possibly never use the hole again.
Later the lion ambled on, heading towards the distant yet looming rock formation that he had call begun to call home.
Ascending the rock-strewn slope to the promontory was not as precarious a job as it had once been. The path he had initially discovered had been overgrown and covered with small piles of sharp gravel that rolled and trickled down. His passing had already had a noticeable effect, slowly sweeping the small rocks aside and suppressing the less hardy of the weeds and scrub that struggled through the cracks in the rock. The sight of this cleared path pleased him, although he couldn't exactly decide why.
Reaching the top, he cast about a moment, looking again with undisguised frustration and longing at the pile of rubble that concealed the entrance to the unknown void beyond. Every way he looked his path was blocked: by the rocks, by Falana and by those dogs. Maybe even by Mtundu for all he knew.
He turned and stepped out onto the promontory. The view was always magnificent from here, and he looked about at the land below with new interest. He saw the route of his own passage through the dewy grass - a dark betraying trail. As he looked, it slowly gained more definition and darkened. A quick glance to the sky above confirmed that the sun was peering above the horizon, the sky reddening and turning bright crimson-gold. Several songbirds greeted the light with a few sharp notes, joined quickly by others until the air began to fill with their cries. The sound rose to Nengwalamwe's ears, making them flicker as he stared into the rising sun, his eyes glittering with reflected light. It galvanised something deep inside, and without thinking, he drew a deep breath and burst forth with a roar. The sound rent the air and tattered the patchwork of bird song into momentary silence. The sound echoed off the rocks behind him, making him shiver as it exploded outward, startling a few antelope grazing below into a panicked run.
He sighed and was about to turn when he heard a cry from high above and behind, "Jeez! Turn my hair grey and take ten rains off my life, why don't you?"
Nengwalamwe glanced around to see Mtundu bounding toward him; the baboon's features compressed into a mask of righteous indignance set at the centre of a silver sea of mane. "Here I am, tired after spending all night finding pitiful morsels to eat, and then trying to find somewhere to rest where I won't get eaten myself, and here you come, hollerin' like fit to stove in the sky wakin' up decent folks…"
"Mtundu…"
"…just trying to rest a moment before setting off again…" Nengwalamwe's attempt at a word in edgewise failed. "…with who knows what stalking me, an' here you come, bellerin' your lungs out just as smug and pert as a…"
"Mtundu! Shut UUPP!" The force of Nengwalamwe's roar nearly sent the baboon flying, the only thing preventing him being the sudden and powerfully firm grip that he secured on the lion's tail. Nengwalamwe endured this indignity stoically; just one of the many that Mtundu had introduced him to; until the baboon regained his balance.
"Now Mtundu," Nengwalamwe said in a much calmer tone, "have you seen Falana?"
"Yeah." the ape said as he smoothed down the hair on his head in a way that made the lion jealous of his ugly, knobbly fingers. He reached out and pointed with one to a small knoll some distance from the rock. There lay a tawny form, basking in the increasing light. "She's been down there since before dawn, I guess, but I guess you know that seeing you spent all night with her."
The lion turned away.
"Hey Nengwe! Where you goin'?"
The lion ignored the cries behind him and trotted down slope. Once off the path, his path, he cut under the overhanging promontory, pacing through the still wet grass toward the lioness. Even at a distance he saw she was lying almost still, sprawled comfortably, forelegs straight ahead, hindlegs one over the other to her offside. As he approached, her smooth silken coat soaked up the early morning light as she shifted now and again to accommodate the enormous meal digesting within her. Drawing his tail about him, Nengwalamwe sat down a length or two to one side and cleared his throat.
"Morning, Falana."
The lioness looked up at him, and then scanned about her, eyes squinting. "Why, I do believe you're right! It is! Just the right time for a quiet nap alone. Now if you'll excuse me…." Without waiting for an answer, she plopped her head back down on one forepaw and closed her eyes.
"Come on, Falana." Nengwalamwe shifted his paws nervously. "I just wanted to see if you wanted to… or something. Please? It's a great morning."
"And just why should I?" she said without opening her eyes.
Nengwalamwe sighed, "Because I'd like it And I thought you might too."
One eye opened and looked at him for a moment, it shifted and narrowed. "No thanks. I have enough trouble with ticks on my rump."
"What?"
"The last thing I need right now is another pain in the butt." She looked pointedly beyond him at the scurrying grey black figure looming behind him. "Lose the monkey and come back tomorrow… perhaps I'll think it over." Her eye closed again, ending the conversation.
Nengwalamwe, feeling a warm weight on his tail tuft, turned to see Mtundu peering around one of his haunches. The baboon met his glance and cringed as he jumped to one side.
"Sorry about that..."
The lion simply looked at him and turned away, rising up and pacing off slowly. The baboon followed as best he could. When they were out of the lioness' earshot the lion turned to the baboon as they walked, saying, "Stuff her. She doesn't know what's good for her. She'd probably have thought of some other excuse anyway. I really don't see why I bother to keep on trying anymore."
The two made off through the grass; the silence between them heavy and clinging while around them, twittering and bustling, the grasslands stirred to daylight life. Behind them, the sleek lioness opened her eyes and stared after the pair, her claws furrowing the earth in front of her. The sun climbed into the clouds.
Mtundu trotted along in silence for a while, occasionally casting a glance at the silent lion beside him. Nengwalamwe had a naturally long stride, and to counter this, the baboon had developed an odd canter-like walk upon all four legs. He fell into this now, easily keeping stride with the lion's ground eating pace.
"Nengwe?"
"Hrm."
The baboon looked behind them, then back at Nengwalamwe. "Uh… I hate to butt into personal stuff… but I can take off for awhile if it'll help," he said awkwardly.
"Hrm."
Mtundu waited, but apparently, that was all that he would get. Giving up, he returned his gaze to the ground unrolling before them. He glanced about uncertainly, attempting to get his bearings. "Uh, hey man..."
"Hrm."
The lion stepped over a fallen branch without breaking stride or even showing any signs that he knew it was there. Mtundu, lagging behind and feeling put out at having to watch Nengwalamwe's rump, hesitated when he came to the branch. Then he leapt over it and chased after the lion.
"Where the hell are we goin' Nengwe?" Mtundu glanced over at a small patch of scrub, then at a nearby tree. "I know this place, and it ain't hospitable-like, if you know what I mean."
"Hrm."
Mtundu reached up and yanked on a set of whiskers, provoking a yowl of indignation from the hulking lion, but little else. "At least it's a change," Mtundu said under his breath. "HEY! I'm talking to you, Fuzzbutt! Quit ignorin' me and tell me where we're goin'!"
Nengwalamwe spun about, a growl of reaction rippling through his chest, and just as quickly fading. "Out there, somewhere," he said, waving a paw vaguely at the northeastern reaches of the savannah. "Some place quiet."
"Deserted, you mean." The baboon looked at him in wonder. Nengwalamwe was about to do what Mtundu knew he must not. "You're leavin', aint'cha?"
"What does it matter to you?" Nengwalamwe snapped: all teeth and hot breath. "I just need a break, that's all."
"A break?" Mtundu guffawed. "From what? You don't do nuffin' hardly at all."
The lion spun on his paws and stalked away stiffly, his back hanging from his shoulders. "Thanks so much. It's good to know who your friends really are."
"Hey hey hey..." Mtundu skittered hurriedly into Nengwe's path, blocking his way. "I'm just funnin', Fuzzy. What's the deal?"
Nengwalamwe glanced down, eyes narrowed. "Get out of my way." Above, the clouds had grown as black and ominous as the lion's expression.
"Or what? You gonna kill me, huh? The big lion kills the poor defenceless baboon huh?" Mtundu shoved his face dangerously close, until he could feel the lion's hot breath on his cheeks.
"Yeauh, that's how it goes."
"What's your problem? It's her, ain't it?"
Nengwalamwe bared his teeth; the baboon backed off hurriedly. "No, it's you, its them… so what if it is? Does it change anything? I have no life here. What's the point?" He moved to one side and pushed passed Mtundu. "It's well past time I left this place and found a real home."
"This is a real home. It's your home."
"No one wants me here."
"Sure they do. Loads a folk."
"Oh right. They just love having a lion around to eat them."
"Hey, if it wasn't you it'd be the dogs, the le'pards, the hyena. An doan' even get me started about the cheetah."
"What? Do you actually want to get eaten?"
"Nah, 'course not. That's not it. Look, we all might go any day, or night. It happens. That's not what matters. It's who you're with – family, friends. It's how ya live that matters. Not how you die."
"Nothing's eating me. I could take you out with a flick of my paw, or a snap of my teeth. Simple, easy and you're gone. I'm not you, I'm anyone here. No way that's gonna happen to me. I really don't belong here."
"Ere luv… I couldn't 'ave said it better meself," tittered a voice behind them.
Lion and ape turned as one to see the grasses part, the blotched and spotted forms of wild dogs emerging from the cover like mists creeping in at dusk. The animals milled about; forming an arc that now cut off the two companions from where they had came. Several of them parted to reveal a slim figure, one of her chocolate coloured, white fringed ears twitched delicately as she sized up the pair. The other hung loosely down almost over her eye. She made an odd clucking sound with her tongue and teeth. "Tuggles… and 'ere was I thinking I'd never see you mucking about with the likes of him."
"Huh?" Mtundu backed conspicuously away from the lion's bulk. "I was just hopin' to cadge a bite or two from his leftovers maybe… times are lean, Miss Elizabeth."
"Is that so?" Elizabeth looked at the lion appraisingly. "Such a big strong feller in'e; I doubt he'd leave you much. ''Sides, when did you start eatin' meat, Tuggles?"
"Since your lovey-dovey decided to run me away from the trees." The bitch raised her upper lip and panted. The baboon hurriedly added, "Ma'am."
The dog shook her head. "He was learnin' you a bit of respect… something you lack big time. And what do you go and do eh? You just took the bleedin' p…"
The ape shook his head and shrugged, protesting, "I was up there. It weren't my fault he chose to walk under me."
"Shut it monkey, you're well out of order. You 'ad be'ah show pukka respect from now on, unless you wan' a see yer brother again real soon." Mtundu cringed but remained silent. Elizabeth shook her head and looked to the silent lion. "You on the other paw, look like a smart young bloke. One who might take a bit of advice from 'is betters." She sat down, moving her tail almost amiably. "Just keep on headin' the way yer headin'. There's a distinct lack of need for lions around here if you catch my drift..." She bared her canines in a grin. "…And we're gonna keep it that way."
Nengwalamwe glanced at Mtundu for a moment. Just a few short days before he would have been amazed at what the dog had just said, amazed indeed that a dog said anything at all. Now he wouldn't have been surprised had she done a back flip in tuck with branch between her teeth. He looked back at her. "That way?" he said, indicating behind him with a twitch of his head. She nodded, and began to scratch herself absently behind one ear. "When you don't see us on your arse no more, you can like, assume it's safe to stop."
The lion thought a moment, then sat up and nodded agreeably. Mtundu looked on worriedly. Nengwalamwe paused to groom a wayward lock of mane back into place and then turned southward again.
"And if you ever come back here you'll get it for what you did to Mary!"
The lion took two steps and paused, an intense look of concentration came over his features.
Elizabeth got up and trotted toward him. "Are you really thick? Shift it I said..! GAAH!" She shrieked in outrage and fury, tumbling backward, soaked in urine, covering her in Nengwalamwe's overpoweringly strong scent. Mtundu looked on with a trembling mixture of horror and childish pleasure. The lion turned his head to look at the dog, snorting, "Who do you think you are, eh? What does a dog know about ruling anything? It takes a real lion to handle things, and that's exactly what I am, see?" He scratched at the earth with his rear paws, sending a shower of earth atop Elizabeth contemptuously. "I didn't do anything to your Mary, whoever she was. Nothing, you hear?" He enjoyed the effect he was having on her entourage of dogs. They just stood and stared at their leader in shock and outrage. "Anytime you need another lesson, you just let me know."
Elizabeth rolled furiously through the patch of sand and rose, glaring at the lion so fiercely that he stepped back momentarily, dismayed by her chilling, defiantly furious stare. "If it's lessons you're after, lion, then I'll gladly give 'em." She gave three shrill yaps that flattened Mtundu's ears. Nengwalamwe stood firm as the arc of dogs closed around him and Mtundu, threatening to encircle them.
Looking around and trying to back away he said, "Lessons in keeping clean? Hmmm? I think not!"
From deep in the arc, an unwary dog barked in amusement.
"What you laughin' at George?" Elizabeth snapped. "You're grooming me tonight!"
George's laugh collapsed into a strained whimper, the other dogs holding their flapping tongues. All eyes were fixed on Elizabeth. Both her ears, torn and round, hung flat.
Nengwalamwe sprang and leapt away over the arc in a single, earth pounding bound, covering the nearest dogs in loose earth and dust. Some rose and ran after him. Mtundu stared after him, choking in the dust.
"What are you doing sitting there Meatball?" Elizabeth bawled at him, "You ain't no good to me sitting there! Get yer arse after him!"
Mtundu didn't wait to be told twice, in moments he was scuttling after Nengwalamwe who, with every stride, was stretching his lead from the chasing dogs; his head in the wind, mane streaming out behind him; his paws barely touching the ground. Nengwalamwe roared in laughter, at once exhilarated and shocked; he'd not quite expected this reaction from the dogs, or indeed any reaction, but rather a meek obeisance to his authority. Elizabeth had caught him by surprise, and her blatant disregard for any authority temporarily unbalanced his mind. He could so easily have turned on the dogs, killing some and putting the others to flight.
Regal arrogance was something which his father had conditioned Nengwalamwe to accept unquestioningly. When Elizabeth had lorded it over him, he had acquiesced. Now, disorientated and at a loss as to what else to do, he loped across the savannah aimlessly, content for the moment to keep the baying yaps at his tail, turning again and again as they drew close on one side or another. All he knew and all that mattered was that he was heading steadily away from them.
At length, he slowed, chest heaving with exertion, and peered back. His ears flick-flicking as he fought to listen over his own rasping breath. They'd either lost him or they'd given up; there was no trace of the dogs in any direction. Satisfied for the moment, he paused to get his bearings and orient himself.
This was unfamiliar country. He could see neither the rock, nor any of the other landmarks he was used to navigating by. He was, in a word, lost.
"You crazy or somethin'?" shouted Mtundu as he straggled up, sides heaving as he too fought for breath. "You peed on Elizabeth for cryin' out loud! She kills animals for less'n that!"
"Hush!" Nengwalamwe stared about, nonplussed at the sight of the odd scrub vegetation all around. The ground around them was flat, cracked and dusty; small zephyrs of air swirling sand about his paws and settling in-between his toes.
"What for? We lost the bums anyways, lucky us. They'll be layin' for us when we get back…"
"Who is this Mary anyway?"
"Oh her; she was the dog you wasted."
"I've never killed any dog."
"Nengwe - come on. That dog in the hollow - don't go all innocent on me. Even I know lion claw and teeth marks when I se'em."
"Lion's teeth you say? Who's? They weren't mine."
"One of the lionesses then eh? Shaha? She hates the dogs."
"No chance - she was too weak. Anyway, she and they seem to have some… arrangement or something. Maybe it was one of Yali's pride?"
Now it was the baboon's turn to be puzzled.
"Who's? No, Fuzzbutt, if it weren't Shaha it had to be Falana. Who else can it have been?"
Nengwalamwe grew tired of guessing.
"We'll never find out now anyway so what's the point?"
"You're right there Fuzzbutt. The dogs'll be after you when we get back no matter who did it. Kinda takes the shine of going back dun'it."
"They'd be after you too if we went back. And anyway, just how do we do that?" Nengwalamwe glared at him, motioning wildly with a forepaw and showering the baboon with a dusting of sand. "Where are we, Baldarse?"
Mtundu looked around, and then back at the lion. "How should I know? You were leadin', Fuzzbutt!"
"Don't tell me I get all the blame for this? I was running awa… well yeah, here."
"Naw, I was talkin' to the lizard over there. Not you, you musclehead, despite the fact you peed on Lizzie, and you led us off on this wild romp, and you…"
Nengwalamwe snarled and shoved his face into Mtundu's, nose butted to nose. The monkey suddenly become very aware of the lion's size and power.
"Erm… never mind." Mtundu grinned queasily and pushed a stray hair of Nengwe's mane out of his eyes, patting it back in place gently. "What's your plan, huh?"
Nengwalamwe's mood subsided somewhat, his rage slipping away, revealing the worry beneath. "Plan? I don't know… first things first. Let's find some water." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and paced off slowly out onto the shimmering flats, looking about uneasily like an ancient sailor who has taken his ship too close to the edge of the world.
Some hours later, lion and ape strode slowly alongside each other. They followed a lugga then the meandering trail of the river as it snaked its way from the distant mountains, their snowy peaks glimmering red in the twilight. The river cut a clean deep furrow into the paw burning, pad scraping flatlands. Nengwalamwe moved slowly, pausing now and again to scramble down into the river gully to soothe his sore paws in the rustling water for a moment before moving on. The gully was too rough to follow for any distance, and he would have to scrape, slide and scrabble back up to the flats the way he had come. He stood by the water, craning his neck out from the dry mud, hardened into churned ridges and deep furrows. He closed his eyes for a moment in relief as the cool water rushed over his paws, soaking the tawny fur.
"You okay Fuzzbutt?"
"Yeah… just sore, is all." Nengwalamwe lifted a paw in cursory examination and winced; the tough pads were lined and cracked, the hard skin scraped away in places revealing raw flesh beneath. The desert hardpan had not been kind to him during his flight. A sudden wind had kicked up a brief but violent sandstorm, forcing him to huddle down with his back to it. Mtundu had sheltered in the turbulent lee of his body.
Peering down at his reflection, Nengwalamwe observed glumly the destruction of his years of painstaking grooming; his mane was tousled and caked with dust, his eyes reddened and his nose and lips chapped and wind-burned. He was bedraggled, and he fancied not even the most desperate lioness would give him a second look.
Sighing, he made his way out a few paces into the shallows, closing his eyes and letting the cool stream of water soothe his paws. The burning sensation faded a little and he relaxed, his mind roving back again over the day's events, worrying through the actions he'd taken like a dog harrying an old bone. Falana.… He grimaced. If there had been any chance of his botching that up any more, he wasn't aware of it. He knew that ever since he'd met that lioness he'd played the fool, and he looked back on each occasion with increasing depression. It was becoming obvious that she wanted nothing to do with him, and considering his attitude; he couldn't blame her.
'She's not Llasani, you idiot,' he thought to himself viciously. 'You can't stride up to her, shake your mane about, and have her fall over in ecstasy.'
He froze, suddenly repelled at himself. Stars above, was that all he saw? A rump with a head attached? Had that been his intention all along… to impress her just enough to allow him to spend a few moments atop her? Had it really? He looked down at his reflection, his face screwing up in a horrible mask. "You sorry bastard," he said to himself, "you've become your father after all."
His reflection rippled gently in answer, glittering in the late sun. It reminded him of standing by the cave on the rock; the world beyond as impenetrable and unknown as what lay under the water. So calm, always there, never changing, always the same, mocking him, telling him how small he was, how weak he was… Then it exploded in a shattering spray of water and sand. Dark gleaming jaws snapped upward, water streaming away in sparkling glittering lines as something huge lifted up and seized a mouthful of his mane. Nengwalamwe uttered a choked scream and lurched backward and upwards, lifted clean off the ground by the devastating impact and then he was snapped back down, held fast in a unrelenting grip. He was twisting through the air, rolling over as easily as Nengwalamwe flicked his tail.
From behind him, a cry arose as the baboon looked on in utter helplessness, "NENGWE!"
Nengwalamwe looked down his muzzle in panic at the huge form that held him fast. The animal's jaws were out of sight, but he felt them crushing his throat just as surely as he could feel the loathsome hide, rough and leathery, wetly matting the fur under his chin. Lifting his gaze, he met hi captor's eyes, the dark unfocussed orbs alien and uncaring, swallowing his gaze and holding him horridly still. Then the eyes rolled back as the crocodile surged backwards, pulling Nengwalamwe into the now thick mud brown water.
The lion uttered a choked sob and pulled desperately, his hind legs splaying apart and scrabbling in the loose sand, his claws leaving long furrows as he was dragged inexorably forward. The water parted around his head; then closed above him, cloaking him in the brown murk of the reptilian underworld. His forepaws flailed desperately, sending up huge showers of water as he splashed helplessly about, seeking any kind of purchase and finding nothing but loose rocks and smooth, silky mud. His throat tried to release a low pitched whining sound as he whipped from side to side, rocking himself desperately, trying to gain some leverage - any leverage. By the stars that he would never see again, this thing was going to drag him in. Drag him in and eat him and there would be nothing left behind to show that Nengwalamwe had ever existed….
Mtundu rushed into the water, grabbed Nengwalamwe's tail, gripped him painfully and tugging backwards futilely. "Oh jeez, this ain't doin' nuffin'. You dumb fuzzball, PULL DAMN YOU!"
The soupy water boiled and foamed angrily as the crocodile's tail, fully as long as a lion, broke surface, thrashing against a massive midstream boulder. The crocodile could go no further into the water, which was barely deep enough to cover the crocodile's back. It pulled away sideways, struggling to gain depth. In its fight to slip into deeper water, it neglected its prey. Mtundu watched and heaved. Nengwalamwe's aching hind paws suddenly found some purchase on the rocks of the riverbed, and he yanked back jerkily. His mane broke surface sending showers of silver droplets over his back as he lurched wildly, trying to snatch his life back from the crocodile's jaws.
He felt the pressure lessen and he tugged with renewed lung-burning hope, contorting insanely as he began to pull free. The crocodile gave a sudden lurch as it sensed its prey escaping. With a low grunt, it whipped its long snout to one side and rolled; twisting Nengwalamwe further off balance and sending him face first into the water once more, dragging him upstream. The world tilted sideways, and suddenly his vision filled with silver bubbles and muddy clouds of silt stirred up from the bottom. With a startled gasp he gulped down huge gouts of water. Cold fright ripped through Nengwalamwe, his body beginning to thrash wildly as he once more fought for air as well as freedom. His paws scraped across a low shelf of rock, but before he could regain his footing, the crocodile twisted again, tugging him deeper towards death.
The two spun violently. Nengwalamwe's legs careened out of the water and splashed, thrashed down, snagging the shelf of rock again. A sudden pain flared in his chest. He tried to scream, the air escaping from his muzzle in a cloud of silvery bubbles. A tearing sensation filled him and suddenly he was floating free again. The crocodile backed off with something clutched in its maw.
Lifting himself out of the water heavily, Nengwalamwe gasped in the burning air and floundered backward, staggering about and fighting his way back to the shallows, his front drenched with water and bright crimson, leaving a ruddy trail in the muddy water. He lurched woozily up the rough, hard-mud bank, pulling his paws from the morass before pacing away in a drunken stagger. He managed perhaps two lengths before collapsing in a heap, his sodden sides heaving weakly.
Mtundu rushed back up the riverbank, He clambered over Nengwalamwe from his off side and stood before him, looking at him with an expression of sick terror. "Hey, you okay, Fuzzy? Say somethin'!"
Nengwalamwe lifted his head weakly, looked at the baboon, and vomited a sheet of muddy water on both of them.
Later, once off the miraginous flatlands, the ape and the lion paused. Mtundu looked anxiously about to assure himself something large and full of teeth was not about to erase him from existence. Satisfied for the moment, he padded slowly. He made his way to the base of a nearby kigelia tree that looked even more bedraggled than Nengwalamwe did, if that were possible. He paused to shake himself and rub at an eye. Then he sat down with a grunt, wriggling his rump against the ground. He looked at the limping Nengwalamwe somewhat wistfully; the lion was a good enough companion, but as a grooming partner he was lacking quite a bit in Mtundu's estimation. Mtundu knew he would have to clean himself up alone.
The lion ignored Mtundu for the moment. He pawed remorsefully at the raw patch on his chest. A sizeable swatch of fur had been ripped away, along with some of the skin beneath; in a few places, he could see raw weeping flesh. Nothing vital was damaged, as far as Nengwalamwe could ascertain, but his once splendid mane had literally had the heart ripped out of it. With it, obviously, had gone any chance of cubs. Whether the fur would even grow back again was doubtful enough, let alone it returning to perfect normality. Sighing lightly, he continued to stroke the damaged area absently with his forepaw, ignoring the stinging pain.
Mtundu coughed. "Erm… you're gettin' dirt in it."
"What?"
"Your wound, Fuzzbutt." Mtundu patted his chest. "You're gettin' it dirty."
"Huh?" Nengwalamwe looked down. "Oh." Settling his paw to the ground, he sighed again.
"Does it hurt bad?" Mtundu asked sympathetically. "I know I slid the wrong way down a tree once, and hit a spot… you see this right here?" The baboon pointed to a place on his rear.
Nengwalamwe nodded dubiously.
"It rubbed the fur right off! Made me raw as hell, y'know?" Mtundu shrugged. "But the fur grew back, eventually."
Nengwalamwe's head throbbed achingly. "Mtundu," he growled, "your arse is as bald as an ostrich egg."
The ape looked back with comic surprise. "What? Hey, you're right! I never noticed! I guess it never grew back at all. Say, there's one good thing - this way no one knows whether I'm comin' or goin'!" Grinning, he looked back around, his humorous expression fading as he beheld the lion's stone-faced expression. "Hey, c'mon, it was a joke, Fuzzy… lighten up."
Nengwalamwe merely closed his eyes in response, raising his paw again to his chest, rubbing… rubbing… "It's not very funny."
"Yeah. I guess not." Mtundu sat down in a surly heap. "Too bad you just lost your hair instead of your throat or maybe your head. Must be hell having to live with a bald spot instead'a bein' dead, eh?"
"I was wrong. I am like you, sort of." Nengwalamwe's stricken expression made the baboon immediately regret his words. "I... I killed him didn't I? Tashi wasn't playing; he's dead, isn't he?"
Beneath the lion's shaky gaze, his cheek twitched slightly, his mouth opening and then closing seemingly of its own will. Trembling, he rose, turned and stalked away stiffly into the shady underbrush, leaving an embarrassed silence behind him broken only by the distant chuckling of the river.