A/N: Here begins some Disney worlds.
::V::
instinct
"You are not obligated to take his mission." The wrongly yellow eyes of Saïx narrowed. "You do realize you can refuse."
Dexné did not reply. She stood silently, waiting for him to give the go-ahead.
Number VII sighed. "Go, then. But you will still complete your regular missions in addition to this."
"As you say," she whispered wearily before departing.
As she crossed into the summoned Dark Corridor, she vaguely heard Saïx say something about having a talk with that good-for-nothing. She didn't hear the rest, as the Corridor's mouth snapped shut behind her. The fleeting thought that maybe Saïx was defending her was a nice one, but a thought all it was. She swiftly brushed it away. He was merely displeased at the setback their lazy colleague caused.
Dexné traversed the Dark Corridor, moving steadily to her destination—a world which Demyx was supposed to have performed recon on. Now the task fell to her. How hard was it to say no?
Apparently too hard for Nulla.
Exiting the Dark Corridor, Dexné fell into the light of a new world.
But something was wrong—something was strange.
She did not enter it like other worlds. The transition was unlike anything she had experienced. Her long black coat suddenly clung tightly to her. She was growing, she was shrinking, she was stretching, she was shortening—she was being remolded. It all happened so fast that she didn't even get the chance to enter fight-or-flight at the perceived danger.
It was over, and she was sprawled out on dry earth.
But she wasn't really sure what "she" was anymore.
For a brief moment she thought she'd reverted into a Dusk, or other Lesser Nobody, but quickly realized that was not so.
Her hands were paws—she had claws. She felt the twitching of something, like the sensation of a leg or arm moving, but it was neither. It was a tail—she had a tail.
Dexné's mind had to process all of the changes. It was too much too fast, and so she lied there for a good while until her brain caught up.
Attempting to move had never been so difficult, so confusing. At first she tried to stand up as she usually did. Her current form, she found, was not made to support her weight in the human stance, and so she could not stand entirely upright, nor could she hold the position. She was forced to fall to all fours.
While trying to walk, Dexné felt like—or rather compared herself to—a crawling baby. She literally had to relearn. Two extra feet made all the difference it seemed.
It was trial and error. Lifting both right feet caused Dexné to fall over. However, if done fast enough (moving both right feet before swiftly switching to the left) she could move forward. But it was such an awkward and wobbly gait.
How could she complete her mission if she could not even walk? And if danger presented, how would she evade?
At last, Dexné remembered her books—the many books she read as a Somebody. One such book had contained documentation on horses, the various breeds, and their gaits. She knew for a fact she wasn't a horse, but a four-legged creature all the same. Right front foot was lifted with the left hind foot; left front foot with the right hind foot, and so on. That way two feet, diagonal from each other, were always on the ground and steadily supporting her weight. The result was a much smoother gait, a more fluid pace, though bouncier. But still, she lifted her paws too high, extended her limbs too long, and sometimes paws and legs clashed. She tripped over her own feet more than once.
Dexné was getting nowhere. She was thinking too much, trying to measure and calculate every movement. She needed to stop her human thought process and let natural instinct take over. Dexné closed her eyes and breathed.
Then she moved.
It took some more practice, but she got the hang of it. Mostly. Her trot was still not secure—she kept randomly switching between a pace, a two-beat trot, and an amble. As for running…she rolled forward like a wheel when she tripped. Though, strangely, she found running easier to master. Perhaps the speed did not allow her time to choke in thoughts.
When Dexné settled into her new form, the reconnaissance began in earnest.
The sun beat down on the baked earth, and dry grasslands stretched as far as the eye could see. A pity, as Dexné had hoped to scope out a pool of water to gauge her reflection in. From what she could see of herself without said reflection, she was an agile creature covered in short dark blonde fur and speckled with black dots. She figured she was some kind of cat, but as the flexed her claws she found them unretractable—like a dog's.
Wanting to get the mission over with, Dexné pushed her theories to the backburner. She ran the best she could, getting better and more comfortable in her changed body with every stride. As she went she observed the world, the environment, and the creatures that inhabited it, tucking information away in her brain for the report she would later write. The dry grasslands (a savannah, she concluded) went on for miles. Even so, it wasn't long before she ran into some Heartless.
The world was indeed infected.
They were large, some almost dinosaur-like. Not knowing how to fight them or properly dodge in her current form, Dexné ran.
She was fast—and going faster still.
Faster, faster, until the ground beneath her paws became a fiery blur. She had left the Heartless far behind. Normally she could run on and on, but as an animal it seemed she could not. Her lungs burned; her entire body felt aflame. She was forced to stop, panting frantically for air.
The sun glared vehemently. It was hot, so hot and dry. A warm breeze pushed lazily and did nothing to cool her. She opened her mouth to yawn and tasted dust, could smell the baking dirt beneath her paws as she breathed in. Dexné knew then exactly why Demyx hadn't wanted the mission.
Wandering further, Dexné finally came across water—a muddy little puddle that looked like it had once been a larger pool. The world must be experiencing some kind of drought, she thought, looking down into the stagnant, dirty water. There her muddled reflection wavered unevenly in the liquid mirror, like a ghost that couldn't decide whether to stay or go. Black eyes stared back at her from a felid face, and two black stripes ran from the inner corner of her eyes down to her mouth—like black tear streams.
"You could be the same thing I am," Demyx had said.
In the back of her mind, Lea's voice echoed, "Run, Cheetah, run!"
Now Dexné understood what Demyx had meant. Number IX must have come to the world, saw how "nasty" it was, and gave up. But how had he figured Dexné would also be a cheetah? Because they were both fast? A scoff tried to escape from Dexné's throat. Please. The only time Demyx was fast was when he was fleeing from his responsibilities.
Dexné continued her exploration of the vast savannah, making mental notes along the way. She surveyed the Heartless, taking special effort to memorize what types appeared where. Areas where Purebloods gathered would largely be ignored.
As Dexné trekked on, the terrain gradually changed. It grew rougher, rockier; cliffs and gorges were becoming prevalent. Flat areas were interrupted by slopes and drop-offs. Without thinking, Dexné made her way upwards. Belatedly she realized that—yes, she needed to be on high ground in order to get a good view of her surroundings. Sometimes it seemed her subconscious, her instinct, knew better than she did.
Standing atop a tall slope, Dexné saw a great rock formation off in the distance. It almost looked like a giant chair with the way it was shaped. The grass appeared greener there, and she could make out the blue of water. Deciding to head in that direction, she began her descent.
It was then she heard a loud, inhuman scream.
Dexné tensed, her widened eyes grazing the area. Lower down and far from her were two animals locked in combat.
But, wait, no…
Dexné squinted, looked closer. They were lions. A lioness and a cub. And it was hardly combat—the little cub was fighting for its life. Bewildered, Dexné watched. Why would a lioness attack her own young? Was it not hers?
The cub slipped out from under the lioness' large paw, running towards a sheer cliff. It screamed again, high-pitched and desperate, and this time, somehow, Dexné could understand.
"Help!" the cub screeched fearfully as the lioness gave chase. "Dad, Mom! Help! Momma!"
The last cry for its mother was beyond desperate.
It skidded to a stop at the drop-off, dust and pebbles skittering down from the steep edge.
Dexné didn't know what she was doing, but her body started moving. She rushed down the rocky hill, her blunt claws giving traction so she did not slip or fall forward. She slid to a stop at the base, trying to take time to think and inspect the situation. Her body wanted to go, go—but her mind said stop and think, you fool. And so she was trapped, caught in an internal tug of war between logic and urgency.
The lioness had the cub back in her claws. It was too late.
Dexné was too far away to do anything anyway, and, besides, it wasn't part of her mission.
Then the cub screamed again, kept screaming. It should've been dead—such a little thing against a full-grown adult. But then, looking closer, Dexné saw the glint of sharp, jagged teeth that shaped the savage lioness' grin—a feral, happy grin, like she was having fun.
She was toying with it.
But it was no game to the cub. Little paws swiped out in futile attempts of self-defense. Then, miraculously, the youngling wriggled free and leapt at the lioness—a final act of desperation. Its small fangs snagged onto her ear, ripping off a notch.
The lioness cried out and slapped the cub to the ground. Just like that, her giddy grin melted into a deadly snarl. The cub feebly scampered back—to the edge. There was nowhere to go.
The cub was wounded and bleeding—far worse than the superficial injuries of the lioness.
The cub let out one last strangled cry for its parents.
Dad! Daddy! Mom! Momma!
Dexné heard it.
Mom… Dad…
Something in Dexné snapped; a memory that she couldn't quite remember, yet could somehow…feel. It was the vicious slap of a cold wind that hit as one stepped out of their warm house.
The terrain flew by as Dexné raced it. Funny—she didn't remember starting.
Nulla honed in on the little cub, coming in from behind the lioness. Every aspect of the lioness' body language foretold death.
But Dexné got there first.
It almost seemed to happen in slow motion, as if her mind could not efficiently process what was happening, as if it were a camera taking pictures on a battery quickly approaching its expiration.
Dexné's claws dug into the dirt, her long tail whipped as she abruptly pivoted beside the lioness, cutting in front of the female—right before the cliff. Dexné's hind quarters slid to the edge—forced by momentum—and she felt her back claws scratch at nothing but air for the briefest of seconds. Her front legs quivered mightily under the strain of keeping her grounded, the muscles aching as she pulled herself forward.
Dexné stooped her head down, jaws wide to scoop something up—it happened in the blink of an eye. Then she sped off.
The next thing Dexné's mind registered was a fur ball—the cub—in her mouth.
She raced along the vertical drop-off—solid earth on one side and a deadly fall on the other. The lioness was roaring in pursuit, but Dexné had left her far, far behind, in a literal trail of dust.
Even so, Dexné was a cautious creature no matter her form. The Nobody stuck to trotting across rocks, and used her tail as a sweeper to avoid leaving tracks in the dust. She also doubled back a couple times before branching off new paths so that her scent trail would be thrown off.
Dexné had known better than to take on the lioness in a fight. Her books had told her lions were hundreds of pounds of muscle and one of the strongest big cats alive. The cheetah sacrificed such heavy muscling for speed. And so she used that speed instead—which she would have, even as a human.
Adrenaline ebbed. She could feel and taste hair and blood on her tongue. Wrinkling her nose, she placed the cub down, then collected the debris in saliva before expelling it in a single, violent spit. The cub lied on the ground, gawking up at her in fear and delirium. His wounds were many.
Dexné's coat was gone—eaten up by the transformation, and with it her elixirs and potions. She pondered, precious seconds ticking by, then opened a Dark Corridor.
The sensation of reverting to human form was just as disorienting and unsettling, but a humanoid body she was used to. Thankfully she was just as she was before—with her coat and supplies. Standing in the Corridor, she reached into a pocket and pulled out an oral elixir. She emptied as much as she could into her mouth, holding it there, before putting the bottle away and returning to the savannah.
It wasn't easy holding onto anything during the morph, and she nearly sprayed the elixir out.
What had possessed Dexné to dribble the powerful healing medicine from her mouth onto the cub's wounds—what had possessed her to do anything that she was doing was a mystery to her. It was like her conscious mind had been shoved aside, and the subconscious had forced its way to the front—a stallion pushing the lead mare away in the face of strife.
What caused it to do that? It was not her fight, not her life in danger.
Mom! Dad! she remembered. Momma!
Perhaps it was a sort of deranged maternal instinct, something that was engraved in her DNA whether she had a spiritual heart or not.
Limbs aching and blood burning, Dexné sat on her haunches, taking time to fill her breathless lungs, slow the pounding of her physical heart. In the meantime, the cub came to.
"You…" It stood on wobbly legs. "You saved me. I-I'll reward you. I'm a prince, you know!"
Dexné tilted her head slightly. A prince? The animals had an actual monarchy? Well, to be fair, she'd seen and heard stranger things from stranger worlds. The cub did seem to be male, as there was a tuff of reddish-brown fur sprouting atop his head; the start of a mane. The rest of his coat was a pale gold, his muzzle was squarish, and his eyes were colored a rich mahogany. He must not be too young if his mane is coming in, Dexné thought. Still, he was small. Even so, he was stocky, and if he was allowed to reach adulthood…he would be a powerful lion, indeed. If he ever again met that lioness, as an adult, then she would be the one left begging for her life.
He seemed to be disturbed by her calculating silence. "Uh, my name's Kopa, by the way." His ears perked forward in interest. "What's yours?"
"…Dexné," she spoke at last, after studying him a moment longer. "Kopa. What are you doing out here?"
The cub brightened. "Monsters. I came to defeat the monsters!"
"Monsters…?"
"Yeah, I'm going to kill the monsters and protect the Pride Lands. Then everyone will see I'm not a little cub anymore." Kopa spoke with confidence.
Dexné didn't know how to respond to that, so she didn't. She simply got up and started walking away.
"Hey, wait! Wait!" Kopa scuttled after her. "I have to reward you. And aren't you interested in the monsters?"
Dexné was stopped by the seed of a sudden epiphany and the cub bumped into her hind leg. "Are you…speaking of the strange creatures that appear from nowhere?"
"Yeah! You've seen them, right? There's the ugly spiky ones, the ugly shadowy ones—" the cub went on, listing different Heartless.
Perhaps…he could actually help Dexné with her mission.
"What did you say this place was called again?" she inquired softly.
"The Pride Lands," Kopa replied, puffing his chest out. "And see that peak over there? That's Pride Rock."
The cub loved to talk. Such a loose tongue could be considered both good and bad. Good for those wanting to learn of the world and the inhabitants, so they may include that in their report; bad for those who want to keep their secrets and ways of life from the ears of outsiders.
Dexné walked with Kopa, and she listened to everything he had to say, though he tended to ramble. It was so much easier to listen to a denizen describe their own world, rather than sneak around and collect bits and pieces of it.
Dexné learned many things from the cub's babblings. Like a human child, Kopa was very open, honest, and trusting. And, like most children, he knew more than he let on. There was a saying that children should be seen, not heard. But Dexné found little truth to it. Kopa was spilling buckets of information. From the cub she learned of the lion prides, their skirmishes with the hyenas, the long drought, the battle of Pride Rock, and of the recent rains that poured over Pride Rock after the battle was won.
"Uncle Scar took over and ruined everything, but then my dad came back and…"
She didn't interrupt him as he bragged about his father, but the next chance she got she was going to steer the conversation towards the Heartless.
Kopa, however, never seemed to run out of breath. "And then the hyenas—"
"Kopa," Dexné had to interject, but did so softly as not to offend, "what about those strange creatures? The ones you were talking about earlier?"
Kopa paused (a miracle) and then lit up with excitement. "Oh, yeah! I've gotta get rid of those things. C'mon!" He bounded off hurriedly. Dexné followed at a languid, energy-conserving pace. She could walk faster than the cub could trot.
"I'm gonna be king next, you know," Kopa kept talking as they proceeded onward, "and everyone will see how brave and strong I am when I make those things run with their tails between their legs!"
Dexné didn't care about kings or secessions. In the grand scheme of things they were all just specks on a planet. What made one being greater than the other? From what Dexné remembered, people, and animals, no matter the type, couldn't be trusted—at least not easily. And so she made sure Kopa was taking her where she wanted to go. "Are we going where they gather? How many have you seen?"
"Yeah, I saw a bunch in this one spot just the other day." Kopa shot her a grin. "I'll get 'em good, so don't worry."
She realized he mistook her inquires for apprehension, and even spoke as to reassure her. Something in the back of Dexné's mind told her that was…sweet of him. She supposed she had always been an apprehensive kind of person in the past, so it would stand to reason she would let that "emotion" trickle into her word's tenor, though she hadn't meant to.
Surprisingly, Kopa hadn't said anything more; he seemed entirely focused on their destination, determination and excitement showing in his expression. She kept her eye on him, and kept a greater eye on their surroundings, to make sure they didn't stumble into a situation that could not be easily escaped.
It wasn't long before they came across the very beasts they sought.
The cluster he led Dexné to was large, and had a good variety. It had many of the new Heartless—ones that she needed to properly inspect and report on.
"I can take 'em," the cub declared proudly.
"Go, then," Dexné replied simply. A long stretch of silence followed, so she made the effort to actually look at Kopa. He was gawking happily at her, his smile so big she thought it'd tear his face.
"Really?" he asked. "You'd…you'd let me?"
"…Yes?" She wasn't really sure where this was going. She shifted uncomfortably.
"Someone actually believes I can do it," he spoke, mostly to himself, with awe. "I'm finally being treated like an adult."
Dexné's ears twitched backward in uncertainty (another strange sensation that she was not used to, considering humans have stationary ears). It wasn't that she believed in him… Truthfully, she didn't really care. He was small and fast and could distract the Heartless long enough for Dexné to fully observe their attack styles. And if he got hurt, well…perhaps it would teach him caution. But she kept such thoughts to herself; let the cub think what he wants.
"All right!" Kopa practically bounced with energy. "Just you watch, I'll have them begging for mercy in no time."
Watch she did.
But she did not sit down as she intended; her legs were stiff and ready to spring into action at any given moment. Again, her subconscious, or a piece of it, overtook. She watched that cub like a hawk, watched as he ran at a dino-like Heartless. She watched as he leapt and sank his fangs and claws into its hide. She watched as he then was thrown, and by the time the club-like tail came down to crush him, Dexné was already there. She picked him up by the scruff, carried, and tossed him out of harm's way. She commanded he "get up quickly and do as I do," and together they ran circles around the Heartless, and the trails their paws made in the dust overlapped where they met at their intersections, creating strange circular designs on the earth—a dance of evasion and distraction.
When Dexné charged and slid under a large Heartless's belly, tickling it with her tail, and therefore distracting it, she told Kopa to attack, to "go for the eyes." He did, and even his little claws did damage to the powerful beast's sensitive organ of sight.
Successfully injured and cowed, the Heartless retreated.
But there were many more left.
She recognized a losing situation when she saw it. Again, Dexné gathered the cub's scruff in her mouth and ran.
She didn't observe all she wanted—Kopa didn't last that long, didn't engage the Heartless in an evasive dance. She was sure he would've used his size as an advantage to dart and dodge, but…the fool just straight up attacked.
She could have let him take the hit, could have let him learn his lesson. So the question stood: why didn't she?
He was mumbling complaints when she set him down. Dexné spit out the hair that got caught on her tongue.
"Why'd we run?!" He was indignant, or seemed to be. But she saw through his front of false bravado—he was still shaken from almost being smashed. The adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, making him want to run, to attack, to do something.
Dexné did not answer, she only stared. Eventually he calmed and could not meet her gaze anymore; his eyes lowered to the ground. "I thought you would have taken the size of your opponent into consideration," she said lowly. "Running in without thought can get you killed."
"I was trying to be brave…"
"There's a difference between bravery and stupidity, I'm sure." She watched with blank eyes as he sat down and hung his head. "…If you were king, as you so desperately want to be, and leading a group of…other animals…into a fight without planning, not only could you get yourself killed, but you could get your comrades killed as well. Is that what you want?"
"No…" He wouldn't look up.
Dexné studied him, wondering where all her words were coming from, and why she cared to impart them. "Shouldn't you…go home and learn the things you should be trying to prove before…coming out here and trying to prove them?" She spoke carefully, attempting to both console and persuade.
"No!" Kopa's eyes zipped to quickly look at her. "I can't go back a failure! I told Dad I was an adult and I'd take care of the Pride Lands."
"Oh. Did your father…agree to you being out here?"
The cub's response was to look away.
"He doesn't know where you are, does he?" Dexné deadpanned the question like an unfortunate statement. Kopa's lack of a reply was all the answer she needed. She frowned. "You're going to die out here, you know…" She said it quietly, like speaking it too loud would make it come true that instant.
"I'm not scared of anything," he said just as softly, a weak declaration that wanted to hold true…but deep down had no hold at all.
Dexné started walking away, but then sighed, a deep sigh that briefly reminded her of Isa. "…Come with me, Kopa; we'll complete your mission. And I'll show you what I know."
His ears pricked forward, and he brightened somewhat. "Show me what?"
"How to survive."
If she was asked why she did it, she wouldn't be able to answer.
So it was good he didn't think to ask.
Dexné didn't know why she stayed when her mission was technically considered complete. She had enough information on the Pride Lands, and the only thing left to do was examine the Heartless further. But that would count like extra credit, because what she had was substantial.
She could leave at any time.
But something in her would not allow the little cub to be left alone, even when she realized the "extra credit" could be obtained faster without him. He would not return to the safety of his pride, and so she could not leave.
Perhaps it was because she heard it again: Mom! Momma!
Perhaps it was because she saw the fear roll off Kopa in waves when his back hit the ground and the shadow of the Heartless's heavy tail loomed over him—she could smell it even, fear so dense and poignant. And it had caused her to spring into action despite her I don't cares.
Dexné remembered herself, a child young and alone and afraid; a memory so fleeting and foggy, like it was hiding deep in the dark corners of her mind and was scared to fully emerge. Then she remembered her mother, tried again to picture her face. She could not. She saw the long colorful skirts, long colorless hair, but the face was gray shadow. Her mind's eye was blind and ignorant to her own mother's face.
Momma? Mom…?
She tried to summon her father's face. The result was the same. Button up shirts, sturdy work boots, salt and pepper colored hair, quiet comfort…but a blank shadow for a face.
Dad? Daddy?
She remembered herself as a child, scared and alone.
Dexné didn't question herself anymore, stopped seeking answers that weren't there. She didn't ask why she ran with the cub, why she slowed her pace when he walked by her side, why she bothered to show him some evasive moves, or why she softly coached him—pointing out potential weaknesses before instructing him the best way to attack and defend against different Heartless, or even other animals.
"A smart person—lion—whatever, knows when to fight and when to run," she told him. "Watch your opponent carefully, observe how it moves, where and when it's most likely to be vulnerable, and react accordingly. Don't run in unaware."
"But what if it's an emergency? What if I have to save someone?"
"Then you will have to observe and move at the same time—and quickly."
She stopped asking why. She came to understand that what she was doing was…
Well, it was, in her mind, simply something that needed to be done.
Together they scouted out different areas where Heartless were most likely to flock. When they found some, they noted how many, and what types. Then, this time in reverse with Kopa watching and Dexné confronting, they prepared to study Heartless attack patterns.
"But I can fight!" he argued.
"What I need you to do is very important, Kopa. A king must be knowledgeable," she persuaded. "I will antagonize it; it will attack. I need you to watch and memorize how it moves and reacts. That way we can better fight it."
Or rather, Roxas could better fight it, as the information would be passed down to him. But then again, Number XIII might not be sent to the Pride Lands. He would transform, and how well could an animal wield a keyblade? Dexné thought little of it.
"Watch me, Kopa," she said over her shoulder, before engaging the Heartless. "Watch me, and I'll show you how to dance."
And as she ran and skidded and spun and twirled, she wondered…if maybe she was okay with being around someone for a change. If maybe she liked having someone watch her, someone to know she was there, be glad at her presence, appreciate her—no.
No, what was she thinking? Ridiculous. A Nobody had no use for thoughts like that. She threw the distractions away and commenced wearing out the Heartless with militant precision. Her chains appeared in her mouth, and she used them to trip clumsy ankles and fell the exhausted Heartless. It didn't get back up.
Dexné started walking back to the cub, her posture low and subservient. She didn't need appreciation. She just needed to fulfil her purpose as the Organization's dog. To do as told, and that was all.
"Whoa! That was amazing! How did you do that?"
But when she saw Kopa staring at her in admiration, she started walking a little taller.
Just a little.
The sun was going down, and as it bled red in the western sky Dexné sought a place to set camp. There wasn't much she could do as a cheetah, but there was some. Her form was that of an animal, but a human mind she still possessed.
Kopa laughed. "Why are you standing like a meerkat?"
Dexné balanced precariously on her hind legs. "I am looking for a suitable spot."
She chose a flat, barren area. She raked away dead grass with her blunt claws, and asked a confused Kopa to place the hard-to-find sticks they'd gathered in a pile.
Kopa watched her as she picked up a small stick in her mouth and began rubbing it on another piece of wood she held between her paws. "Uh, what are you—"
She hissed for silence, the stick clenched between her teeth. Creating a friction fire was a long and tedious process, but, given her current form, it was the only option available. She didn't think they needed it for warmth, as the savannah's temperature stayed warm and had not changed since the sun hit the horizon. No, she was hoping to use the presence of fire to deter the wild animals that hunted and lurked in the night. A cheetah and a lion cub would not stand a chance against an attack from hungry hyenas. Or lions. Dexné read in a nature documentary that the beasts would kill cheetahs, sometimes for no reason.
If worse came to worst she could scatter the fire and set the grassland on fire, and escape with Kopa in the resulting chaos.
She worked robotically, rhythmically, and ignored the fatigue that rolled over her as time marched on. Eventually tiny wisps of smoke began to rise. When it did, Dexné quickly batted a cluster of dead grass she'd saved onto the wood.
"Blowth on itth," she slurred through the stick. Kopa stared wide-eyed at the rising smoke tendrils, and she had to slam her paw down to snap him out of it. "Genthly," she hissed when he almost blew away the grass.
Finally, an orange glow, and from that one ember the fire sprang to life.
Kopa stared in horrified fascination as Dexné piled dead grass and sticks onto the growing monster. She wasn't surprised at all by his reaction. Wild animals feared what they couldn't understand. All the cub probably knew was that fire was hot, and could consume and destroy anything in its path.
"How did you do that?!" he gasped out.
"Magic," she said flatly, in a sarcastic tone Isa would have used long ago.
Kopa gaped at her like she was some sort of sorceress.
After he calmed and they settled around the steady fire, Dexné explained the friction method to him. He didn't seem to fully understand it, but was captivated nonetheless.
Magentas and purples washed down after the sun. The breeze grew slightly cooler, but it was still warm out and Dexné and Kopa gave the fire plenty of space.
Kopa talked on and on about how things were going to be different when tomorrow came. He was going to show the Heartless who was boss. Dexné took his words with a grain of salt, and started planning how to get him to go home willingly. She should have RTC'd long ago…
"You really don't talk much, do you?"
...How familiar that question sounded. She looked off to the dark horizon where the sun once was, thought of Lea. "No."
He seemed put off by her answer and lack of speech, his mouth twisting in a displeased scowl.
Dexné scanned the flat expanse around them. She chose the area because she wanted no place for predators to hide, and also so she could run without obstacles slowing her. She saw no threats.
She laid with her back in the cooling grass, the fire flickering playfully a little ways from her, and looked up at the stars glittering in the blackish blue crown of the night. She used to lie outside, she remembered, with someone lying beside her.
When she looked to her right, she saw Kopa.
"See the brightest stars?" Kopa's paw waved in a vague sweep. "Dad says all the great kings of the past are up there."
Dexné stared quietly upwards. Then said, "I see suns."
Kopa twisted to look at her. "Huh?"
"Like the sun in the sky. All those stars…they're suns for many different solar systems—suns shining for different worlds like this one."
The cub soaked in her words, staring at the sky with renewed reverence. "Wow…there's so many."
"Billions," she agreed.
As her eyes roamed the stars, she realized something. Any one of them could be her home world. Finding it would be as impossible as finding a single, specific pearl in a vast and deep ocean. She would die of old age before she even explored half of it. A cold, desolate emptiness filled Dexné after the thought.
Then nothing.
"Open your eyes!"
Dexné's eyes snapped open as she jolted awake. Her gaze darted around wildly, but there was no sign of anyone—or anything. There was just her, the dwindling fire, and Kopa. The cub was curled at her side.
"Kopa?" she whispered.
The cub groaned and rolled over, fast asleep.
She hadn't eaten, nor had anything to drink since coming to the Pride Lands, and she felt very dizzy. Perhaps it had her hearing things. She stayed awake a little while longer to be safe, but the weariness she felt since Castle Oblivion pulled her under sleep's spell once more. She drifted off thinking how she was going to explain her extended absence to Saïx—a simple recon mission shouldn't take days to accomplish. She could already hear his scolding…
"Open your eyes!"
Again she jerked awake.
That voice…it sounded like…
"Don't you dare close your eyes!"
It sounded like Lea. And his voice echoed everywhere except in the reality outside of her mind. Pieces of her memories sluggishly moved. But they were stuck, and only Lea's shouts made it through.
"Don't move! Just—just stay still! - - - -, look at me!"
Dexné gazed up at the dark sky, listening to the echoes of the past, wondering what in the world had happened.
As she slipped back into sleep, other shards slithered between the jammed memories, pouring and swirling before the void, glittering in a light unseen.
She saw flashes of the images they held. One was of her walking home alone; one of her sitting alone; another of her running beside Lea and Isa; another bright flash showed her sitting with them on a cobblestone ledge, a shimmering fountain nearby. There were so many shards at once, and they wouldn't let her sleep, wouldn't let her wake.
She rose only to fall down; she fell only to rise again. Over and over. It was so exhausting, and in her delirium she wished it would stop, that everything would stop.
She just wanted to sleep. Sleep deeply, blissfully unaware. Like she used to, before Xemnas found her.
Open…your…eyes.
Dexné woke to Kopa's growling stomach. A minute later and she caught him eating bugs.
"Timon says the crunchy ones are the best," he said with a mouthful. "Want one?"
"…No. Thank you." She wasn't hungry enough for that, not yet, and quickly changed the subject to something he might be interested in. Thus she tried to explain relentless pursuit—a persistence hunting tactic used by humans. But she gave that up once Kopa asked what a human was.
They set out, leaving the ashes of the fire behind.
"We'll get 'em today," Kopa enthused, and Dexné knew he was speaking of the Heartless.
She grunted noncommittally. She was so tired; all her limbs felt like lead, her body like stone. She tailed Kopa blearily, and as they came across another group of Heartless she had to force herself into vigilance. Kopa rushed at a single Shadow, and after many bites and swipes managed to defeat it. He had learned to evade and observe, but he was still too forward. He was trying to fight like his futuristic self—a powerful adult lion. Which he would be, one day. Just not today.
"Enough, Kopa. There are too many." She paused. "Why don't you…return home and get reinforcements?"
"Nah, I don't need to."
"Kopa…continue like this and you could die. We could die."
"What? Are you scared?" He teased her like it was some game.
That did it.
"I wasn't the one screaming for mommy the other day. Or have you forgotten the two times I had to risk my life to save yours?" She spoke indifferently, simply. She was stating the truth, something that had to be said, and she ignored the strange squeezing sensation in her chest when Kopa looked at her like she just struck him.
But she wasn't going to leave it at that. He needed to learn.
She turned and leaned down, getting right in the cub's face. Her eyes, the twin black holes that they were, bored into him and had the effect she somehow knew they would: he squirmed where he stood, and he wanted to look away, she could tell, and yet he could not. He was trapped in her pull.
"I don't pretend to know—I don't know what you're doing or what you think you're doing. I'm not sure if you even understand it yourself, but know this: Death does not care how young or old you are; it does not care how weak or strong you may be; how good or bad you can be. It can take you at any time, for any reason…or for no reason at all. You'll do well to remember that."
Her voice was vacant and low. No emotion was presented. She was telling Kopa the truth—a truth that could only be delivered coldly.
Death does not care.
And sometimes life does not care to fight for you.
Dexné had learned that long before Kopa was even born…though she could not remember how.
Something told her she didn't want to know.
Kopa shivered like he was cold, and once she pulled back and her eyes no longer held his, he ran. She watched him, then let out a long sigh before following.
There was a reason she didn't talk.
He yelled at her and at one point turned around to scratch her leg. She gave him space, but kept him in her sight. Again she wondered why she was doing this, why she bothered.
"Kopa, I was just trying to…" She trailed off. "I do not wish you dead. You're not invincible. You think death is something so far away just because you're young—it's not."
He ignored her.
She grew more tired, felt heavier, with every passing minute. Doggedly, blindly, she trotted after the cub. It occurred to her she still hadn't consumed any water—but she was taught never to drink from stagnant pools. And stagnant, dirty pools were all they came across. Kopa didn't have a problem, but he was native to the world and his immune system was well armed. Dexné, basically an alien, wasn't going to risk sickness.
But she needed water. She hadn't meant to be on this mission for more than a day.
She collapsed.
The world spun, and everything was quiet. She didn't even hear the pattering of Kopa's paws, and she thought perhaps he left her.
Then she heard him running to her. "Dexné! Dexné, what's wrong?!"
She stirred. "Nothing," she mumbled. "Just, let me…"
"Dexné!"
She jerked her head up, dizziness whipping her brain into a soufflé. "I need…I need water."
He nudged her up and walked with her. "There was some water back there—follow me!"
She breathed deeply, trying to steady the physical heart pounding against her ribcage. "But it was…dirty."
"Don't be so picky!"
She went too slow apparently, and Kopa trotted ahead of her. "Look, we both made mistakes," he said over his shoulder, "I did things, you said things. I'm sorry, you're sorry. Okay?"
He looked very pleased with himself, very proud to have taken the high road and resolved their conflict.
They came in sight of the wide and shallow pool, the place surrounded by tall grass and shrubbery, and Dexné grimaced at the brownish mirror it made—discoloring the reflection of both blue sky and white clouds.
As their luck would have it, Heartless appeared nearby. Kopa looked ready to spring into action.
"Be careful, Kopa," she advised weakly, "there's no need to—"
She didn't see the male lion burst out of the underbrush until it was too late.
In the spilt second she had to react, she summoned the chains around her vulnerable neck and belly.
Large claws speared her hindquarters as she spun to keep her head out of reach, and her screech threaded into the lion's angry roar. Pain exploded all over her body as she was mauled. She was powerless against the big lion, and her blunt unretractable claws did nothing, whereas the rogue lion's sharp ones tore through every patch of exposed skin it could get at. Jaws came around her neck, and the only thing that saved her was the chains. A thick shaggy mane was all she saw as the lion tried to asphyxiate her.
The short barbs on the chains were not enough to make him release her, and conversely they were digging into her neck as the lion's powerful jaw clamped down.
She had no choice. She had to use it.
The Black Void.
But then she heard Kopa's screams.
"Let her go, let her go!"
"Run," she tried to rasp, "run!"
The rogue ignored every one of Kopa's strikes, not even bothering to change position or bat him away. Dexné, with great effort, managed to get a claw in the lion's eye, and as he pulled away in pain, Dexné crossed her forelegs in front of her in an attempt to keep him at bay while she screamed, "Get away, Kopa! Run! Run!"
Her voice was hoarse and bloody, and she screeched again as the lion bit into her left foreleg. For a brief second she saw Kopa, still too close, his chest heaving and his eyes wide with panic. She saw him glance quickly between the lion and the Heartless. He dashed towards the Heartless.
He was going to lure the Heartless over, she realized faintly, and get them to attack the rogue.
But that would take too much time, time Dexné didn't have.
Once Kopa was all the way over by the cluster of Heartless, she opened it.
Opening the Black Void was not an easy process. It was not a door that could be open and shut on a whim. It grew slowly, and it shrunk slowly—to do otherwise would increase the damage taken by Dexné.
But Kopa was too close for her use the Black Void like usual—it would drag in him if she wasn't quick. She had no choice but to yank it open. When she did, it felt as if her entire chest had collapsed in, and she couldn't breathe.
She didn't think about the possibility of it killing her.
She thought of nothing but devouring the rogue and sparing the cub.
The last thing she remembered was slamming it shut—and it felt like a train had rammed into her empty, empty chest…
Then blackness.
"Open your eyes!"
She saw red hair blazing, bright eyes like green glass.
That's right…she remembered.
She had fallen…she had fallen from very high up.
"Don't move! Just—just stay still!"
She remembered hitting the stone pavement, remembered seeing little red rivers trickle from her, spreading out on the stone like spider webs. And Lea…she remembered him kneeling down, the side of his face pressed to the ground so he could look into hers. His hand hovered by her cheek, thumb touching just below her eye, trembling.
And his eyes, so wide.
And his voice, so afraid.
Darkness entombed on her vision.
"- - - -!" He shouted her name, a name she could no longer hear. "Don't you dare close your eyes!"
Did you want me to die with my eyes open? she remembered thinking.
In the present, Dexné woke up in a shallow crater.
Mahogany eyes, not green, wept over her. "Dexné," Kopa choked out shakily. "H-he's gone. It's okay. Dexné, get up." He nudged her, but she did not move—she couldn't move. The Black Void had locked her, and the wounds instilled by the rogue bled. She stared at the peaceful blue sky, eyes glazed, breathing slow and laboriously.
The cub swallowed a sob, then got up. "Help! Someone help!" he shouted in all directions. "Somebody! Anybody!"
But there was nobody. Even the Heartless had fled.
"D-Dexné," he spoke over her, "just hold on, I-I'm going to go get help. D-don't move. I'll get Dad! I'll be right back! Just hold on," he called one last time as he ran full speed towards Pride Rock.
Dexné fell in and out of consciousness. She didn't know how long she'd been lying there, unable to move, unable to save herself. She was bleeding and alone, and any predator with a good nose could find her.
Then she heard a voice.
"Nulla, Nulla, Nulla," tsked a striped hyena as it stepped out of the underbrush. "Just what have you been up to?"
From the corner of her eye she could see him; the one-eyed hyena with Number II's voice.
Xigbar, The Free Shooter, had always been the one to retrieve her whenever she got lost on her early missions. His manipulation of space gave him a better chance of escaping should Dexné and the Black Void malfunction.
He kept his distance, as he always did when dealing with her.
Dexné heard a Dark Corridor, and then Dusks were dragging her in.
And in the split second before she fully lost consciousness, she heard Lea.
Open your eyes…
...
A/N: Kopa is not an OC. He is the unrecognized son of Simba and Nala. When Kiara from The Lion King II was made, Disney disowned Kopa, and I think that's such a shame. He's a neat character. You can read his bio on the Disney Wiki. And for continuity purposes, let's say Simba defeated Scar without Sora's help, like he did in the movie? Sora will only help Simba defeat the ghost of Scar in this story. Otherwise...Kopa wouldn't have been born yet.
This chapter focused primarily on a Disney world. Do you want to see any future chapters like this?
Thank you very much for reading.
...I always wondered what forms the Organization members would take in the Pride Lands. And Atlantica, for that matter. Who else thinks Xemnas would be an unstoppable honey badger?