THE LION KING: THE FREAK

The Lion King: The Freak
Chapter 14: All's Fair III: War

(Are any of you familiar with the TV show Avatar? I just realized that there's one character that I imagine Adhabu sounding exactly like. Her name is Mai.)

Samehe and Shindani were alone together, slumped over, almost side by side. Both were trying to sleep, and both were failing, thinking of Sikia... and Freak.

Shindani, at first, had thought that Sikia might have been walking towards her death; if not her physical death, the death of her good nature, her kindness, her playfulness. But then, she'd groaned in resignation, realizing that, at worst, Freak would send her back with, at worst, a grievous injury to whatever strange pride that Sikia held.

Samehe was on her back, looking at the stars. She saw one twinkle, and wondered if, from somewhere up there, Shere Kahn looked back down at her... if Chukizo and her other cubs did, as well. If the alpha males of the Desert Pride did, too...

“...Shindani...” the old lioness said, and instantly, the younger feline's ears perked up as she made a grunting sound of acknowledgment, looking at her leader and surrogate mother, “I'm getting old, I know it... I doubt that I'll see another year pass...”

Even Shindani, the least cublike, the least sympathetic lioness out of the Desert Warriors had to bite her lip at talk of Samehe's quickly approaching fate.

“But, I think, I've taught you four well. I've taught you to have faith, to take comfort in the fact that, no matter what, the Great Spirits will protect us, until we see, once and for all, if the Gemini Theory really is true, if the Great Spirits really are the true masters of this land...”

“But my poor grandson,” Samehe let out a sigh, “I don't think he has faith in... well... anything.”

“Hold on, Samehe...” Shindani said, and gave the elder lioness a look of incredulity on her face, “sorry for interrupting and sh—and all,” the lioness caught herself, then paused, and continued, “but come on... we all saw you playfighting, or practicing with him, whichever you want to call it... now, I'll be honest,” Shindani said curtly, “if you came at me like that, I'd be scared outta my mind. I'd run the f—uh, I'd, uh, run away, uh, fast...”

“But he didn't. He knew, Samehe,” Shindani said, “he knew that you weren't gonna hurt him. He knew that as good as we know that you'll never hurt us. In fact,” the lioness went on, “he knew better than us. Now, maybe it's 'cause you're his Granny Samehe... but I don't think so,” Shindani said; clearly, her underused vocal chords were reaching their limits, “I think that Freak... is, at his core, a good guy... I mean, we all saw how he flipped out when we... did what we had to...” Shindani's voice had taken on an unnatural pleading tone; though the lionesses had convinced themselves, time again again, that it was necessary to strike a downed enemy, it never seemed to stick; “he might be... unpolished, maybe even uncivilized. But he has faith, at least, in you, Samehe... and don't forget that.”

The old lioness was still laying on her back, and was pointedly silent. Shindani fell silent as well, ears flattening to the back of her head slightly; had she crossed the line?

“Well,” Samehe said after a long moment, then turned over to rest on her side, looking at the Desert Warrior with both pride, and tears, in her eyes, “...well. Thank you, Shindani. I suppose I have taught you well...”

Shindani was, of course, shocked to see her leader so touched by her words. She didn't know quite what to say, and so, decided to change the topic.

“Weird, isn't it...” the lioness said, causing Samehe to tilt her head just a little, “that Msaka and Adhabu would head off to relieve themselves at the same time... heh, if I didn't know better, I'd say that at least one of them is up to something...”

The lioness's thoughts were as dark as the post-dusk sky as she strode, purposefully, angrily, towards the place where the remaining lions of the Desert Pride slept.

“So. She seduced him. ...It's not his fault. He's spent his entire life without the company of the opposite gender, it's natural that he'd think that his lust, or infatuation, or whatever, was love. But Sikia...” the lioness growled, “she needs to understand that Freak is mine. And I'm gonna make everyone see that, and if Sikia gets in my way... well, I'll teach her that I'll do anything for love.”

“Anything.”

The lioness walked on more quickly, a terrible resolve filling her heart, a terrible snarl flowing across her face. She was filled with love, she thought, and because her loved one both did not requite her feelings, and, to her knowledge... misdirected his own affection... she was also filled with hate.

Love, after all, is a very, very interesting thing.

(one instance of the f-bomb coming up, sorry)

The Desert was still. In the darkness, the sands were purplish, and cool to the touch. Overhead, stars glinted and glimmered, casting little light on the terrain below.

Two sets of padded paws approached each another; they'd join at a roughly perpendicular angle. One set was coming from the northwest. The other approached from the southwest. Both pairs might have been approaching, after a roundabout maneuver, from the west... where Freak and Sikia were.

Adhabu and Msaka were both so absorbed in their thoughts that they both jumped, when, at last, they noticed the presence of the other, not ten feet away.

The dark-furred lioness and the hunter's ears perked up, and their claws half-extended, but then they both paused, and offered somewhat strained, forced smiles to each another. A tense few seconds passed, then the lionesses continued eastward, towards Samehe and Shindani.

Eight paws quietly padded across the Desert. But aside from that, everything was completely silent.

“...So...” Adhabu rasped, in a whisper that shattered the silence, “...what do you think about, you know, Sikia... and Freak?”

Msaka was silent for a moment. But then, she always was. Adhabu reminded herself of this, and forced herself to not read too deeply into the huntress's actions, forced herself to not take note of its disturbingly contemplative nature.

“She's... well, going to get her ass handed to her,” Msaka said, then, as was normal, fell silent.

“...And...?” Adhabu prompted.

It usually took some prodding to get the huntress to talk. But what was unusual was the vague hint of urgency in the dark lioness's voice; as well as the slightly warning tone Msaka's voice took on.

“And, she's probably going to deserve it. No one can tell that boy off and get away with it.”

There was a definite hint of anger in the huntress's voice. And it was with a tone of challenge that Adhabu replied.

“Yeah. You know it,” the dark lioness said, “'Everyone is a threat,' right? ...But I wonder...”Adhabu said, eyes flashing, if not quite perceptibly, “what do you think Sikia's trying to do? Yeah, I know that she's a fuckin' Girl Scout and all. But come one,” the dark lioness said, trying to keep her muzzle from twisting into a snarl too much, “even she knows her limits, right? So, it makes you wonder... is she going there to... get... with Freak?”

Adhabu was prodding Msaka. That was, to say the very least, unusual. The two lionesses had always been on very good terms; their friendship had been one of companionable silence. But for the dark lioness to deliberately provoke the huntress crossed an unspoken line.

And so, when Msaka finally did speak, it was in a carefully measured tone that, despite her best efforts, was laden with molten hot anger.

“He...” she murmured, “will... never... allow that to happen. Never,” the lioness repeated, “and if Sikia tries...” the huntress broke off... and yet, Adhabu swore she heard the words that Msaka thought, so quietly that they could have been cooed into her ears by the Desert's breeze, “she'll get what she deserves.”

The rest of the walk back to Shindani and Samehe was spent in silence.

Just as usual.

Freak gave Sikia a long, testing glare. But the lioness didn't seem put off, and rather innocently licked at her paw in the obsessive manner that felines do, before catching on.

“What's up, Freaky-boy?” she asked brightly.

The li-tigon paused for a long moment.

“You... love me? ...How? You've only known me for a day now. How can you feel such a strong sense of affection... towards me, of all beings?”

The lioness smiled, then nodded, in an unwontedly mature manner before explaining.

“No, you don't get it. First off, love... well, it doesn't really matter how long,” Sikia said, “you know the other one for. Especially for me! Samehe told me that the day I was born, she was away doing, guess what, some reconnaissance work. But the second I smelled her, she said I got up, walked right over, and rubbed half my fur off on her leg,” Sikia said, smiling... an expression that Freak returned painfully, thinking about the sister who, like so many others, he'd abandoned.

“Also, there is this thing... it's called infatuation. It happens when a female meets a male for the first time, and since one of them's never really loved anyone before... in the way that mates do, I mean, they think that this feeling of obsession is love.”

Freak paused, tilting his head just a little, but decided to let Sikia continue, to let his question wait for a moment.

“Finally...” the lioness said, as she slumped over just next to the li-tigon, ignoring his deadly paws and claws, “love isn't something that's just for family and mates. Friends love each another too. Like all of us and Samehe do. Seeeeeeeeeee?” Sikia said, looking up at Freak with her omnipresent smile.

A gust of wind ruffled the li-tigon's mane, so, for a heartbeat, his stripes were visible. He opened his mouth a few fingers to speak, then paused, thinking, and looked up, speaking, in his dull, unafflicted, bland tone.

“I did love someone. Once. ...Not in the family way. Or the friendly way,” the li-tigon said, ignoring the soft gasp Sikia gave as she realized that Freak had loved in the only way he hadn't mentioned...

“It was only a few days ago... but she... died. Right in front of me. I know I've never been with any female before... but it wasn't infatuation. I spent over two months with her... and, until the end, I was blind to her, and to the fact that she loved me more than I will ever know,” Freak said in a tone that was both resigned and hopeless.

“...But she's gone now,” Freak said flatly, “I was blessed to have had her love. Me, a freak, to be loved... but I was. And I ignored it,” the li-tigon said; somehow, his voice had taken on a tone of incredible guilt, “I suppose that if I live out the rest of my life alone, without even family and friends... I will have earned my fate, a thousand times over.”

Sikia looked up at the li-tigon sadly, who was still peering at the horizon and upwards, at the stars, as if trying to see something that could never, ever be reached, only observed from a distance.

“Freak...” the lioness said quietly, and waited for a moment, until the li-tigon looked away from the stars, towards her, “you don't get it, do you? The ones we love never really leave us. Yeah, sometimes they die... but it's not like the love you share with them disappears. ...Take me for instance,” Sikia said, and, for the first time, Freak saw that the lioness's infectious optimism was a personality brought on by necessity, “Shindani was out with Samehe when the dogs attacked. They killed my mommy right in front of me, before everyone else got them away.”

Freak felt a pang... his mother died before his eyes too. But, upon reflection, he knew that her death was at least a relatively peaceful, quiet one, a death during which she'd been doing her job as a mother. Whereas Sikia's mother hadn't even been able to look at both of her daughters in her final seconds...

“Anyway. That same night, after me and Shindani cried ourselves to sleep, I had a dream, or something like a dream, anyway. And when I talked to Shindani about it later, she told me she had the same exact dream.”

The li-tigon perked up just a little, tilting his head... his curiosity was piqued. He'd met his father, and sister, and mother again, in a trancelike state he could only describe as a dream.

“I saw Mommy again,” Sikia said happily, “she hugged me and Shindani, and promised that she'd always watch over us both, that she'd always protect us. She said she'd help us conquer the greatest mountains, and that every time we looked at our reflections in the water, or at each another, we'd see her. Because me and her and Shindani, we're all the same. We are, really, one and the same.”

That made Freak think. Back to his first steps out of his cave in the Jungle, into the world. Back to when he'd looked into the puddle of water, which, he recalled, didn't seem to have a bottom.

“I remember that. After I looked in, when I walked away, I thought to myself... I am of my mother. And when I looked into the puddle, I realized that not only do I look like her, I... I can't explain it. It's like she is inside of me. Like she's part of who I am.”

The li-tigon then looked down at Sikia, and nodded.

“Yes. I understand. I see. So... my mother, father, and sister, have never left me. They live in me... do I have it right?”

The lioness nodded. And then, she was both pleased and amazed to see the incredibly rare event... Freak smiled, if slightly. Don't misunderstand: this wasn't his forced grimace. It was small and only visible for a second, but it was a natural smile that said that no matter what this cat had experienced in his life, he still had hope...

“Aww...” Sikia said quietly, and twisted to her feet, tapping the li-tigon's muzzle with a paw before sitting down and smiling up at him, “you look cute when you smile. You should do it more often.”

Freak seemed to think for a second, then nodded.

“Maybe... I will find love again, someday. ...Maybe I'll find other reasons to smile. And I can't think of a better place to try than here, in the Desert, with my grandmother, the Desert Warriors... and you, Sikia.”

“You make me smile.”

“Down. Get down,” Freak muttered.

The li-tigon heard a slight ruffle behind him, and then followed his own advice.

He lowered himself, concealing his deep tan, striped form among a group of bushes.

Something was different in the Wet Forest, different from yesterday, when he and Samehe had traveled in it. It was strange—with the Slayer of a Thousand back on the front lines, the dogs needed ever man jack to fight back.

And yet, in their two hours in the desert, Freak and Msaka had passed no less than three patrols of two dogs apiece.

“Did they find a trace of us yesterday? Are they preparing for something?” the li-tigon wondered to himself idly, as his eyes narrowed.

Up ahead, though, the reason that he'd told the huntress to get down became clear; literally, visible through the dense, hazy fog that was an epidemic in the swamp.

Freak had been toying with the idea of applying his “become one with nature” mindset to actual motion. He hadn't tried it before, yet, not quite... but even if he became slightly visible now, there was sufficient distance and damper in both sound and sight and smell to allow him to go unnoticed...

The li-tigon took in a deep breath, and held it, then let it out. Slowly, he relaxed, allowing every muscle in his body to go limp. As always, he kept control of himself, but it was an out of body experience, as always.

But this time, Freak applied a tap there, a push here... and slowly, he began to move, completely unnoticed, to Msaka's side.

“Don't—move...” the li-tigon breathed, but, of course, as expected, the huntress couldn't stop herself from jumping, if by just a few millimeters.

“Sorry...” Msaka said just as quietly as Freak had, “you'll have to show me how to do that later...”

The li-tigon merely nodded, then held perfectly still. He was scared, and, he assumed that the huntress, being a sensible being, was similarly frightened.

But who could blame him, really, when he was looking into the eyes of a twenty foot long reptile that was coming directly towards him?

The huge lizard was flanked by two dogs on either side, but they seemed to be merely escorting him, not restraining or controlling him.

The two cats didn't dare budge, not until the lizard and dogs were over at least fifty yards away.

“I thought that the lizards of the Southern Rocklands were neutral in this little war,” Freak murmured, glancing at Msaka through the corner of his eye.

“They are,” the huntress replied, “at least, we've never fought them before, ever... Samehe once tried to get them to help us, but they refused, and pledged neutrality... they'd always had border skirmishes with the Wet Forest, so we never imagined that they might join the dogs...”

“So... that's why there's so much security right now. The dogs are worried that their newfound allies might betray them... I think that there's something happening in the Southern Rocklands, something bad... something so bad that it would cause the lizards to join the Wet Forest...”

Msaka nodded, but silently. She wasn't quite used to moving around in the Forest yet, and scooted a little closer to Freak... to hear him better, of course...

“I know this wasn't in our plans for the day...” Freak said quietly, “but I've taught you how to move around and fight in the Forest for two days now...” he muttered, referring to the sparring match he'd had with Msaka, in total silence, the previous day, “we need to taint the arrival of the lizards... with blood. Listen...” the li-tigon murmured, and held silent for a moment—concentrating carefully, Msaka was able to hear the soft, hissing sounds of more lizards, not in the immediate vicinity, but secure enough in the Wet Forest to communicate loudly, “there are more of them. This is not an isolated event. The lizards are here, with the approval of the dogs. If Grandmother was here, she'd approve,” Freak said, hoping that the huntress wouldn't stop him from doing what was necessary, “I know she would.”

Msaka's expression was much like the one that the li-tigon wore so much—calm, analytical, detached—but hers was forced. Freak's was molded from a lifetime that required him to be as harsh as his infinite enemies.

The lioness opened her mouth, and seemed to choose her words very carefully before speaking.

“Alright...” she said quietly, “we'll take one. ...But then, we'll have to leave... security will be tightened, and if we don't do it and get out fast, we might find it hard to get back to the Desert... for days. So, we'll need to kill him quickly. And quietly. ...And Freak...” the huntress said, “you might already know this...” Msaka paused, seeing that she had the li-tigon's attention, something inside of her fluttering slightly, “but lizards see in heat.”

Freak froze, then spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully.

“That could just make things a little... tricky...”

“That'sssss far enough...” the lizard hissed, “I tire, and my blood growsssss cold...”

The four dogs glanced at each another, and nodded. They'd been told, by their Lord, that they were to treat their guests and potential allies with respect... but to be ordered around in their own home...

Regardless, this alliance would tip the scale in their favor. And to win the war, the dogs of the Wet Forest were willing to swallow their pride.

The lizard watched, rapping his claws against the ground impatiently as the dogs moved off, taking hold of carefully set vines in their teeth.

“I wonder... there were thossssse two ssssslight differencccccesssss in the Foressssst... perhapsssss those platnsssss were merely a shade warmer than mossssst. No living creature could decreassssse their temperature that much and live...”

The dogs backed up, pulling aside some branches that permanently shaded their Forest, keeping it dark. Sunlight spilled through, striking ground directly for the first time in decades. The lizard let out a hissing, sighing sound, and basked in the sudden warmth. His eyes clouded over, and he spoke.

“I have no further need of you for now... leave...”

The dogs really hesitated this time. Their leader had told them to treat the lizards with respect, but surely, he'd told them to accompany their 'guests' for a reason?

“With all due respect,” one canine said gruffly, stepping forward, bowing his head just a few degrees, without breaking eye contact with the reptilian, “we cannot—”

That was as far as it got. The lizard spat, and the stream of liquid landed across the dog's face. The canine managed to stand for a moment, then fell over, stiff-limbed.

“He'sssss paralyzzzzzed... for the moment... leave... or hisssss affliction will be more... permanent...”

The three other dogs froze. They could do as the lizard “requested,” or raise the alarm, and call enough reinforcements to the area to kill the animal through sheer force of numbers... but that would make the possibility of a temporary, strategic alliance with the Southern Rocklanders an impossibility, and they'd lose all of the Desert that they'd worked and died so much for...

And so, the canines swallowed their pride, with a strange sentiment in between anger, a promise for revenge, and grudging respect in their eyes. One hefted his comrade onto his back, and then the three left. They knew that the lizard was watching them with his heat-vision that made them stand out like bright lights against the chilly swamp, so they didn't even try to trick him...

All at once, the great reptile raised his head, and looked at the ground just in front of him. For a second, the lizard had thought that he'd seen a flicker of motion, of heat; of, perhaps, an assailant?

But no, nothing could move that fast and that silently—the reptile could, apart from heat, detect even the most minute of vibrations; he could tell the precise velocity of a mouse running fifty yards away.

However, he had his flaws: though the ability to detect vibration was immensely useful in the solid, sound-carrying Rocklands, here in the Dark Forest, foliage, water, and all other varieties of biomass dampened vibration.

Apart from that, the lizard had no sense of smell: evolution had not deemed such a sense necessary. Oh, it could 'taste' whatever its tongue touched, of course, but the battle lines were far, far away... and the reptile felt complacent enough that he hadn't sampled the Wet Forest for a few hundred yards.

And so, when the lizard saw a center patch of heat in the warmed-up swamp around him intake some of the cooler surrounded air, he felt a heartbeat of surprise, before he reacted to the threat.

The reptile reared up on its hind legs, and opened its mouth; wet with saliva, and lined with row after row of needle-like, razor-sharp teeth, and tried to roar.

But, impossibly, something, something bigger than a dog, jumped the full fifteen feet into the air, and, moving so quickly that it was a mere blur of motion, sliced off its tongue, then slashed at one eye

The lizard made only a soft, gurgling sound as its nerve-rich tongue gushed blood. It rolled, viciously, and then made a deep groan of pain as something else caught its leg, refusing to budge—but it was too late, torque had already been applied—

Freak heard a meaty, wet pop as the lizard's left rear limb dislocated. The li-tigon bit down in front of its calf, and, after a moment of surprise at just how tough its scales were even here, at such a non-vital part of its body, managed to chew through and rip out tendon, ligament, and all other manner of connective tissue.

The reptile's leg hung loose, and Freak ignored it as a non-threat. He dared to take a second to glance at Msaka, seeing the huntress flip and move about, dodging strikes from the lizard's foot-long, blade-like claws.

His mistake.

The huge lizard's tail arced through the air, and its armored tip struck Freak directly in the head. The li-tigon was thrown off his feet and landed in a heap, twenty feet away.

He didn't get up.

Msaka heard a slight whoosing sound and jumped high into the air, clawing at the liard to distract it as she rebounded off of its head and scampered down its back before rebounding again, off its side. She'd searched for weak points, and found none.

“Where's Freak? Is he trying to surprise this... this dragon?”

“Did he abandon me?”

The lioness immediately felt ashamed of herself and snarled... then froze as she saw Freak laying still on his side.

Msaka heard that slight whoosing sound again and instinctively ducked—she was just a split second too late.

The lizard's tail sliced a sliver of the lioness's ear clean off, and blood began to seep from the wound. But Msaka had been injured much, much worse than that, and sprang at the lizard, flipping around in mid-air to kick it in the neck.

The reptile began to wheeze, and that bought Msaka a few seconds of respite. She jumped over to Freak, and tapped him with her paw urgently, shaking him, hoping that his journey, his long journey with her, wouldn't be ended prematurely...

The lioness had underestimated her enemy. Because not three seconds after she'd struck his throat, Msaka was pulled into the air by a snake-like length that coiled around her leg.

She hissed and clawed at the lizard's tail as she was swung through the air, and only just in time realized what was happening. The reptile released the huntress so that she flew through the air like a bullet, heading directly for a nearby tree.

Just in time, Msaka twisted around, and rebounded off the tree. But she winced as she got back on the ground, and limped slightly as she assumed a fighting stance... at best, she'd sprained a paw. At worst, she'd shattered it.

This fight was going badly. And, at the moment, it looked like Msaka's most logical course was to cut her losses... and run.

But one glance at the li-tigon, or at least, his body, made her hold her position. She bared her teeth, snarling—it was a miracle that hordes of the Forest's dogs hadn't descended onto her... yet.

The next minute was filled with the most intense combat Msaka had ever known. She'd taken only superficial wounds from her enemy's overlarge claws, thank the Spirits; because those monsters could skewer her if she let them.

Time passed in a blur—the huntress, in the future, would only remembering dodging, blocking, deflecting, and, on occasion, striking.

It came as a complete surprise to her when she realized that she was wrapped around the lizard's face, wrapping her forepaws around his muzzle, keeping his jaws shut, her legs trying to choke him out.

But even though Msaka gripped as tightly as she possibly could, it was clear that she was getting no-where fast... those scales were just too tough for her to get past...

Even from such an angle, the reptile was able to make eye contact with the lioness. And though he couldn't speak and couldn't attack the lioness, it was incredible how much his eyes alone said that he wanted no more than to spend the rest of his days torturing her to death.

The huntress heard a familiar voice say, “Let go,” and, without thinking, did so.

It was only a few heartbeats later when Msaka realized that she was falling down to the ground, that the lizard was opening his mouth to roar, and that Freak was on his feet again.

Then, several things happened at once.

The li-tigon dashed, and then leaped directly towards the reptile's mouth. The latter stopped trying to roar, and instead, held his jaws slightly apart, his needle-like teeth facing the li-tigon directly. His claws moved, aiming to tear Freak apart in mid-air.

Msaka jumped—and one foot-long dagger pierced her directly between the ribs, just under the backbone, coming out of her fur; horribly, not bright red, but a dark, purplish shade of gore.

The lizard was distracted just enough to turn his head, and relax his jaws... and that allowed Freak to jump right down his throat. The reptile seemed bewildered for a second, then guessed that the li-tigon had tried to attack it's neck... and then, its gullet worked, and the huge lump in its scales that represented Freak was gulped down.

Even in her state, Msaka felt new adrenaline course through her system.

“No!” she hissed, and slammed a fisted paw down on the reptile's claw, snapping it.

Freed, now, the lioness leapt into the air, and, in the space of a second, slice her enemy's face at least a dozen times, managing to cut an eye before an armored eyelid protected it.

The lizard was already gasping for breath, its 'meal' had gotten stuck in its throat, and at Msaka's furious assault, it gurgled, and seemed to freeze up—

And then its neck and head fell, separately from its body.

Covered in saliva, as well as a series of long, painful-looking cuts from the lizard's teeth, Freak stood on his hind legs, eyes closed, bloody claws still extended. Inside the gullet of the beast, he'd crossed his forelegs, and arced his claws in opposing directions over his head to slice through the lizard's soft flesh.

The li-tigon rubbed himself against the Wet Forest itself, and splashed around in a puddle, rubbing his face with his wet paws. Only then did he open his eyes, their dark irises examining, analyzing as they always did.

Freak trotted on over to Msaka, and, with a gentle nudge, pushed her down. Then he braced his forepaws against her side, took the lizard's claw in his mouth, and pulled it free. Aside from a soft grunt of pain, the huntress didn't react.

“Are you alright? You're injured. Can you stand? We need to leave,” the li-tigon said, a tone of urgency in his normally flat voice, “if the dogs aren't already coming as we speak, they will soon. We only have minutes to escape.”

“I can stand,” Msaka said shakily, but, as she tried to, her legs quickly crumpled underneath her: such prolonged, intense combat, plus her still-bleeding injury had exhausted her.

Freak merely nodded, then licked at the lioness's wound, unaware of the warm tingles he sent running through her whole body. The bleeding hemmed, if slightly, and now, there really was no time to spare.

With ease, the li-tigon squirmed underneath Msaka, and hefted her up, as if hardly feeling her weight.

After that, Msaka didn't remember her journey. Not well, anyway. She only recalled certain aspects of it: the feeling of the li-tigon's fur underneath her, the feeling of his muscles rippling beneath his flesh, the feeling of her paws wrapped around his toughened, harsh form, and the feeling of a deep, desperate fire burning brightly inside of her...

Love, after all, is very, very interesting.

Freak managed to sneak through the rest of the Forest—it seemed that all the dogs were busy escorting lizards around, and didn't pay as much attention to a stray snap or depression in their swamp as they may have.

Msaka seemed to have slipped into unconsciousness on his back, but Freak didn't particularly mind—it made her easier to carry, especially with the way her forelegs wrapped around his neck and mane.

Finally, however, the cats made it out of the Forest. Impossibly, however, fighting was audible the second Freak stepped out of the swamp. And as the li-tigon walked up and over the next rise, there they were, the Desert Warriors and his grandmother, fighting a hugely successful battle against the dogs.

It was cub's play for the li-tigon to carry Msaka around the battle, and gently set her down. The Desert Warriors were occupied, and so, they didn't do much more than register that he was there... for the most part.

Sunset.

The day's fighting was done, and the dogs fell back. For the first time since the start of the war, the Desert Pride was at the doorstep of the Wet Forest. There had been extremely limited Stalker support, and Samehe had made short work of them all.

And yet, even as the lionesses and Freak moved away from the Forest, they couldn't help but hearing more combat, from within the Forest itself.

“Weird... think they're having a revolution?” Adhabu asked, glancing around.

“Hell no. The dogs are fanatically loyal to their Forest Lord. No revolution a few heretics might mount would be even close to this level of violence,” Shindani scoffed.

“But then, what's all the fighting for? Maybe they're practicing? Or trying to freak us out?” Sikia asked curiously.

Samehe was apparently deep in thought. But then she looked up, and sniffed slightly. A smile appeared on her face.

“Grandson...?”

The li-tigon was silent for a moment as he padded across the Desert before speaking.

“Msaka and I ran into a lizard. A lizard from the Southern Rocklands. We assumed that there were more of them... I suppose we're correct,” Freak said, just as a yelp echoed through the Forest, into even the Desert.

“In order to shatter any possible alliance the lizards might have with the dogs, we waited until we could find one on its own... and then, we fought it, and killed it. It was hard to do it quietly... and it was a new enemy, one that I've never faced before. I've hardly even faced anything like it, too... it saw in heat, and it was extremely fast, as well as powerful. And breaking through its scales was often impossible. I was knocked out, and Msaka held it off, for a moment... but in the end, I managed to kill it.”

Samehe paused, brow furrowing.

“How?”

“By jumping into its mouth, letting it swallow me a little... then, I cut through it. It was tough from the outside... so I defeated it from within.”

“Wait—just a second...” Adhabu said slowly, “...how big was this lizard? Samehe, didn't you say that the lizards in the Southern Rocklands didn't get bigger than we are? So how...?”

“It was much, much bigger than we are,” Freak said flatly, “about as long as a small elephant... or about as long as three of the Desert Warriors. About the same height, too.”

There was pin-drop silence for a moment. Even the cats' paws made no sound as they moved across the Desert's sands.

“Ho... ly... shit...” Shindani said after a moment, “...wow,” the lioness said, then laughed, and gave the li-tigon a slightly painful but well-meaning cuff on the shoulder with a fisted paw, “you are the man, Freak! Dang,” she said, then looked at Samehe, who was positively beaming with pride, then at Sikia, who was looking at the li-tigon with big, awed eyes, “damn...” the lioness repeated with a chuckle.

Adhabu only seemed flabbergasted. And that didn't change even as the group approached Msaka. Sikia bent down by the lioness, tapping her here and there, listening for breathing and heartbeats.

“Poor thing...” the youngest Warrior said, “she's worn out. But she'll be okay,” Sikia said in her usual, more upbeat voice, “thanks to Freaky-boy here!”

“Don't make it seem like it was more than it was,” the li-tigon said flatly, in his own way of showing modesty, “I was just... doing what had to be done, that's all.”

“Yeah, but it's a wonder that you could,” Shindani scoffed, “look, don't be modest, you're amazing.”

The rest of the lionesses nodded in agreement. Freak was quiet for a moment.

“Alright... I suppose it was... noteworthy,” he said delicately, and looked at the Desert lionesses with his toothy grin displayed, “thanks for your praise.”

“Oh, oh oh oh!” Sikia said suddenly, then grinned widely, positively bouncing around, “I thought... of a name for Freak!”

“Come to that... me too,” said Adhabu.

“Yeah... me too,” said Shindani.

“I have, too...” said Samehe.

There was a pause. Then, another voice.

“I have... too...”

All eyes turned to Msaka, and the huntress slowly got to her feet.

“I have a name for you...” she said, stretching, but paused, and looked deliberately over the Warriors' heads, or maybe, just one Warrior, and looked at Samehe, “maybe we should hear your suggestion first. He is your grandson.”

The old lioness nodded, and cleared her throat. It was as if all the suffering that her grandson had endured, all the battles he'd fought, all the nights that he'd slept beside nothing but the skeletons of his dead mother and sister had culminated into this one moment... when she could do her part to erase part of what had made her hybrid grandson suffer even to this day: his name.

Samehe sucked in a deep breath, then spoke.

“I say... Shujaa. Warrior.”

Collectively, the eyes of every other being present widened.

“I was going to say that,” Sikia said quietly.

“I was, too,” Shindani said.

“Yeah... me too...” Adhabu murmured.

“Yeah...” Msaka practically whispered.

All eyes turned to the li-tigon, and he paused before speaking.

“Shujaa... a hyena I once knew said that same thing,” he said, “Uvuli. Granddaughter of Kivuli of the Bloody Shadows, daughter of Usiku... of the Pride Lands.”

The li-tigon hadn't said much. But audible in his words was an unmistakable tone of regret. Of guilt. Sikia was the next to speak, to ask the questions that were on all the lionesses' minds.

“So... I'm guessing that she liked you, right?” twin shudders went through Adhabu and Msaka, “Why are you so... sad?”

“Where is she?”

Indeed, the male cat had broken his eternally blank, emotionless eye contact and was looking at the Desert's sand in between his paws.

“I don't have any idea...”

“The Gemini Theory...” Kiara said, missing the sparks of interest in Sarabi, Simba, Nala, Kovu, and Usiku's eyes, “no, never heard of it... Gemini, that means twin, right?”

Tanga nodded, then began to explain.

“Back when Mohatu was the King, he made predictions. A lot of them. And the older he got, the crazier they got... he actually predicted that the Bloody Shadows would fall, and another shadow would rise in it's place, for instance, would you believe that?” the old lion said, and grinned a little before continuing.

“Anyway, like you said, Gemini means twin. But why would we be talking about twins? This Freak of yours, he has no siblings, much less twins, correct?” Tanga said.

“He had a sister. But she died,” T piped up, “at birth.”

Tanga grinned slightly, and glanced at Sarabi.

“Tell them... what the Gemini Mohatu was talking about is.”

The old matriarch paused, collecting her thoughts, the pain in her paw already forgotten.

“Mohatu predicted that in all of our worlds—meaning, all of them, not just this Land of the Spirits—each of us has a twin. Someone just like us... in a way. They have the same goals that we do, but they just... see different ways to achieve them. And so, while they're like us in the most important way, they're different from us in so many others that we're irrecognizable.”

“Mostly.”

“Because Mohatu made another prediction. He said that there will be a Gemini pair... both will be warriors. One will fight for death, the other will fight for... everything else; freedom, righteousness... life...”

Uvuli was the one that spoke next.

“So, Freak will fight for life... and his twin... will fight for death? Who is his twin?”

Tanga grinned.

“Mohatu has a prediction about that, too...” he glanced at Simba, who explained.

“Kiara, your great-great grandfather prophecized that evil is... cumulative. That it adds up, starting the minute that last great battle of good versus evil ends. And the last time we had such a battle was when Mohatu united the Land of the Spirits... for the duration of his lifetime. Mufasa said that during his father's lifetime, things just fell apart of their own accord. But judging from the way Scar was treated... I don't know what to believe anymore,” the Lion King admitted.

Nala spoke up next.

“Scar... that makes sense. It makes perfect sense. Suppose that things didn't just fall apart during Ahadi's rule... suppose that it was his fault that Scar went bad? ...That would mean that a lot of evil has built up since Ahadi's time... and that Mufasa didn't do enough to combat it...”

Simba swallowed once... but nodded. He had to accept the possibility that there was more to his ancestors than meets the eye.

Usiku was the next to speak.

“And when there's enough evil in the Land of the Spirits... well, it changes from being merely an abstract concept to an entity that becomes more and more physical until it's confronted.”

The black hyena then turned to Tanga, and glared horribly.

“What was it that he said? That it's Tanga's fault that his mate died...” though Simba, and quite intentionally stepped in between the hyena and the old lion.

“Usiku,” the Lion King said powerfully, “tell us what happened.”

It wasn't a request.

The black hyena's snarl slowly diminished.

“When Saliti came to power, one of the first things he did was to find out who had how many cubs, and who was mated to who. To keep the Shadows more organized, he said. And Tanga happened to be the one that told him about my Azizi, and Uvuli. And so, one day, when I came back from a mission, both were gone. Azizi had been dragged away and killed... but she'd managed to hide my daughter,” Usiku said, wrapping a foreleg over his daughter's shoulders for a moment.

“So, it is Tanga's fault that Azizi's dead, but... he didn't know what he was doing. I don't hate him,” the black hyena said, trying, but not finding himself quite capable of looking the lion in the eye.

The was a general sound of sighing in relief, somewhat offset by the fact that something in the Jungle... just didn't feel right.

“Hey...” said Uvuli, trying to maintain a casual tone, trying not to think of something, or someone, too much, “if Freak's our warrior... shouldn't we give him a better name?”

One by one, the rest of the animals present began to nod in agreement.

“Any suggestions, daughter?” said Usiku, reaching over to ruffle the younger hyena's head-fur.

Uvuli playfully growled and then spoke.

“Well, if he's our warrior... why don't we call him that? Warrior, I mean... Shujaa? I suggested that to him once, a long time ago... he liked it. And I think that if he hadn't earned it back then, well, he sure has now...”

“Shujaa...” said the Lion King, as he glanced at Sarabi, then at Nala, Kovu, Kiara, then at the rest of the lionesses and hyenas, “that fits... yes. From now on, we'll call my cousin Shujaa.”

All at once, the Pride Landers and Tanga got up—it was time to leave. There was no spoken decision making, they all just knew that they couldn't afford to wait any longer.

They traveled northwards with a growing sense of unease, like they had some unfinished business to do. And then, Simba spoke.

“I have a feeling... that we should visit F—Shujaa's cave. That there's something there that... shouldn't be.

Logic said that it was a waste of time, and a serious risk. But the Pride Landers and Tanga traveled through the Jungle towards their warrior's cave with an ever-increasing sense of urgency; so that by the time they were at its doorstep, they were moving at a brisk run.

The first sight that met their eyes was a welcoming one: Chukizo and Maisha's skeletons had lain unperturbed. But beyond that.

“Oh my Spirits,” Kiara gasped, covering her mouth with a paw, “what is this?”

In the Pride Land's main waterhole, there were crabs. As a cub, Sarabi had sometimes snuck out at night time to play with them, sometimes with Mufasa... but then, that was a different lifetime, when safety wasn't such a pressing concern as it was in these troubled times. Back then, the small crustaceans were the size of her paws, and the lioness had chased and tapped at them under the careful gaze of the moon, when evil and the Bloody Shadows were just bad dreams.

There was the smell of crab everywhere, but no other evidence of it...

“Wait.”

That was Tanga. All eyes turned towards the old lion as he carefully padded over to the deep, huge pool of water and peeked in.

Silently, he walked back.

“I think that the shell of this... crab animal was pushed into there. But there's something else... I don't think it's just me. It's not a smell... more of a feeling. That something else was here, something bad, something that managed to kill this creature...”

Tanga looked around, and everyone present nodded.

“I used ta like bein' here,” Banzai said, “but now, this place gives me th' creeps...”

Ed was shivering slightly, teeth chattering, and no one had the heart to tell him that there was nothing wrong... because, as far as they could tell, something was very wrong.

“So...” Simba said, letting out a deep breath... suddenly, it seemed incredibly foolish to come to Freak's cave, “I suppose we should head to the Pride Lands now... it's not far from here.”

Slowly, the Pride Landers began to nod, and then, moved off into the Jungle, again, trading stealth for speed. Two conversations started, and, out of respect, those that weren't involved in them turned their ears away.

The royal family found themselves looking curiously as Tanga as they moved through the lush forest... the old lion must have surpased Sarabi in age, and yet, he moved as gracefully and stealthily as they did, forcing them to realize that for all his virtues, Freak was not invincible...

“Tanga...” the Lion King said, and the old lion looked over with an inquisitorial grunt, “tell me,” the tan lion said, before pausing, “who are you? Where do you hail from, and who are your parents?”

“My parents...” the old lion said, and then shook his head, “I have no way of being certain. But I believe now, after pondering that question for years on a... sensitive mission...”

Curses. He hadn't thought that far ahead.

But Simba just sighed.

“Don't deny it, you are, or were, one of the Bloody Shadows' Assassins... don't—” the Lion King said, cutting off whatever excuses the old lion was about to mouth by raising a paw, and looking away, “it's alright. It's in the past now; you were imprisoned by them, and I can see that you're repentant...”

It was a risk. A huge risk. But in the past few months, so many good things had happened to the Pride Lands, even in such trying times, when Simba followed the footsteps of Kiara and Kovu, and not Mufasa and Ahadi. And not only did war demand adherence to morals and ethics, it demanded stricter adherence to morals and ethics. And this was a lion, after all... it was a risk. A huge risk. But a calculated risk. Now was the time to forgive, forget, and fight as one fist alongside one Warrior, against another...

Nala, again, still seemed skeptical, but out of respect for her mate, she kept quiet, at least, for the moment. Kiara was off with Kovu, and Sarabi seemed to support her son, but then, what kind of mother wouldn't?... the Lion King was reminded, uncomfortably, of Zira, who was presumed to have died only a few months earlier.

“So, uh, Usiku...” said Shenzi, drawing away from Banzai, Ed, T, and Uvuli and towards the black male, “...whatchu mean when you said that my parents made that crazy journey over th' Western Volcanoes?...”

The ex-Assassin gave the younger hyena a somewhat grave look before explaining.

“Your parents... were...” how to put this?... “captured. By Assassins. I was just a cub back then, so no, I wasn't involved. Anyway, they were split up, and my father, Kivuli, had his way with both of them. Your father was beaten, badly, and your mother... well, it's safe to say that my so-called father did to your mother what he did to every female that caught his eye. And rumor had it...” Usiku paused, and looked directly into Shenzi's eyes before speaking, “that when your parents were finally released from the Shadows, weeks later... that your mother was pregnant.”

Shenzi was a tough hyena. That's why she was the undisputed leader of the Outland and Shadow Land hyenas, the leader of leaders in the eyes of her clan. It tooka lot to shake her... but finding out her true parentage just might.

“What are you sayin'? That Kivuli was my real dad? That you're my half-brother?”

The black hyena firmly shook his head.

“No. Kivuli was never your father; he was never mine, either. Fatherhood is a relationship... independent of blood. Kivuli's blood may flow in your veins, if the rumors are to be believed, but...” the older hyena shook his head, “your father is whom you've called 'Father' for your entire life. The only thing that's really different now, is, I suppose, us... sister.”

Shenzi was silent for a long moment. And then she spoke, softly.

“I always felt a... sorta connection to ya, Usiku. I thought it was somethin' else, but... well, I'm glad that I know it's 'cause we're siblings. Nothin' else,” the hyena said.

The black male nodded gravely, but then smiled, and spoke with a slight quaver in his voice.

“Don't blame yourself too much,” he said, “there aren't many females that can keep their paws off of this...”

Shenzi playfully growled, then headbutted the older hyena in the shoulder, and kept walking at his side.

“Shhya, well,” she scoffed, “th' females in this family ain't like most. Most hyenas don't like lions, fa' instance... or, should I say, part lions...”

Usiku looked over at his daughter. She was chatting with T and Kiara, trying to fit in with the other females in her new juvenile status. It was slightly unnerving for the former two to see Uvuli speaking not up to them but amongst them.

Cubhood was so short... but for some, it was even shorter.

“Well...” said Tanga slowly, “I'm glad to hear that. ...Very, very glad,” he added, smiling somewhat sadly at the suspicious look at Nala gave him, “anyway, as I was saying... I've thought of a few possibilities. All are unlikely, but they're the best that I've come up with.”

“One is that I'm of the Falme. I could be the offspring of a rogue lion of the far east,” he said, referring to the scarcely known lands of the Eastern Jungle and beyond, “and a Falme lioness. It's obvious why my parents, or at least my mother, would have sent me to the Bloody Shadows.”

“The other is that I'm of the Pride Lands, or the Desert, or the Lower Plains, or perhaps even the White Sands of the Northeast.”

Simba's brow furrowed. The White Sands of the Northeast... they were to the north of the Eastern Jungle. And the Eastern Jungle was cut-off enough; one had to go through the Falme or across the Eastern Volcanoes to get to the Unexplored Regions that dominated the southeast border of the Land of the Spirits. There was the remote possibility of crossing the huge river that ran across the west of the Forbidden Island and then to the south of it, against the northeast of the Bloody Shadows and the north and northeast of the Pride Lands; and then clambering over the hostile, dangerous terrain of the Northern Rocklands. That land was semi-volcanic, and had only sparse vegetation; there wasn't enough infrastructure to support prey, and, therefore, predator. Back in the days of Mohatu, all lion prides had had occasional congregations that included even the rogues of the east... but soon, the prides had lost any interest in maintaining relationships. And so, they'd all been out of contact with one another for generations now.

“So, you theorize that you're an illegitimate cub... and that your parents, or at least one of them, abandoned you to avoid embarrassment?” the Lion King asked, shaking himself out of his trance.

Tanga nodded, tasting the bitterness of the revelation that he'd tentatively accepted years ago. But he tilted his head slightly when the tan lion firmly shook his head.

“There's no shame in being who you are. You've done no wrong by being born, Tanga... if anything, your parents are to blame for your parentage. If your guesses are correct, that is.”

There was silence for a few moments, then Kiara spoke up.

“So... Shujaa will fight for live. And this twin of his, whoever, or whatever, it is... they'll fight for death. Every fight has a winner and a loser; because in this case, surrender or negotiation is not an option. So... how's Shujaa going to fight? And how can we help him?”

Simba smiled a little.

“Right now... well, we cannot pursue Shujaa,” he said, and Uvuli's ears drooped slightly, “and according to Mohatu's predictions, the other warrior will be given gifts, in a way, from evil.”

“Now, I think it's okay to assume that the Spirits still have some control over their lands. None of us have had any encounters with them for some time now, but things are far from as bad as they can be. The Spirits are still fighting, and, I think, when Shujaa gives them a chance, they'll help him, too.”

“But as far as what we can do... we can take the Pride Lands back, first of all. And then, accept all refugee lions... because Mohatu said that war demands not only respect for ethics, but it demands the utmost of attention to morality, and acceptance for all victims of evil,” the tan lion said.

“So, that's what it is, huh...” Banzai said, then looked up, “we're at war, huh...?”

The Lion King gave the hyena, then all of his subjects, a grave look.

“Yes. We're at war.”

The dogs had returned to fighting against the lions with renewed vigor. They hadn't suffered grievous casualties at the scaled clutches of the lizards—both sides had decided, after some blood-letting, that their best option was to concentrate on the lions of the Desert, and after that, fight each another over the Desert again.

It wasn't fair, not even in the slightest. Again, the lionesses began to lose their home inch by bloody inch.

Adhabu and Freak were in the far south of the Wet Forest. They'd spent two nights in the Forest now, consecutively, and were now headed to the southeast, towards the tip of the Forest; the part that was surrounded by the Rocklands.

They had no delusions of sparking a war between the lizards and the dogs, there were just too many eyes on the heavily militarized borders of the southern parts of the Land of the Spirits for that to be a possibility.

What their intention was was to gather intelligence on the lizards themselves. Samehe hardly knew anything about them—until the war, they'd done their own thing; neither interacting with nor posing threats to any lions. Who was their leader? How did they govern themselves? Did they have any weaknesses?

Freak had even gotten the go-ahead to take any necessary steps to destabilize the lizards' alliances to each another if possible. Adhabu couldn't help but watch the li-tigon in awe every second of every day—his life had been a thousand times more difficult and painful than hers, and yet, here he was, doing his duty to the Desert without reservation.

That's why her love to him was genuine.

“Adhabu...” the li-tigon whispered, and the dark lioness perked up, “wait here. I think there's a way to get past the dogs... I'll check it out, and be back here within half an hour. If I'm not, assume the worst, and—”

“Sorry, Shujaa,” the female rasped, “I'm not gonna go anywhere.”

“...”

There was a slight rustling sound, and Adhabu felt a slight feeling of fur brushing past her side, though saw nothing... and yet, she accepted Freak's display of affection for what it was.

She was reaching through to him.

And so, the lioness waited, dutifully, like a wife waiting for her husband to return home from work. The half hour mark came and went, and yet, Adhabu felt neither fear nor anxiety. She knew that her Freak was the greatest fighter in the land, and that he would never, ever be killed without her knowing about it.

Hours passed.

Then, the li-tigon materialized into being right in front of her, out of nowhere. Adhabu couldn't help but perk up slightly in happiness.

“I found a way through,” Freak said, “but it's a little difficult. If you're not up to it... we can just turn back.”

The dark lioness scoffed, and stood, walking directly past the male, running her tail across his cheek.

“Never happen... Adhabu turning away from her duty, from what she loves to do 'cause it's a little dangerous? Never happen...”

Freak let out a slight sigh, and followed the dark lioness.

“Alright... but don't say that I didn't warn you...”

“No, HELL no! Never happen!”

“I told you that it was going to be difficult...”

“Yeah, but f—freakin'...” the lioness had to speak loudly to be hard over the roar of the dark, deep, fast-moving river, “swimming down the Dark River of the South? That's crazy!”

The li-tigon looked down. The river had cut its way into the Wet Forest and the Rocklands, and was several feet below the swampy, rocky ground he stood on. The border was at least a mile away, and this part of the Forest was completely unguarded. Rain clouds gathered again, and it was overcast as it began to drizzle, chilly drops of water sprinkling on the cats, their breaths condensing as they left their snouts.

Freak felt no fear. All he saw was another one of nature's illusions. And this illusion, like any, could be defeated.

“We're not going to swim down it...” the li-tigon said, then looked at Adhabu, then past her, at a hollow tree trunk, “but we are going to traverse it.”

The dark lioness watched, incredulously, as Freak crawled directly into the log... his fur stood out against its dark interior, but hers matched it almost perfectly...

(Ever heard of the 38th Parallel?)

Tense, tense, tense...

The dogs were to the northwest of the Dark River, the lizards were to the south. There were two dozen dogs, and ten lizards, smaller ones, and one twenty foot long monster. The Southern Dragons, they were called, and though they numbered in the mere dozens, even one of them could single-handedly take down at least a dozen dogs, if not more.

Both sides knew that they were in a temporary ceasefire, of sorts, but neither side wanted to blink. They knew that the day that they would turn their attacks away from the lionesses of the Desert and towards each other drew near.

“Hark at the dogssssss of the Wet Foressssst...” the Dragon said, and the dogs' ears perked up, “ssssso ssssstrong and brave... ssssstanding at the edge of the Dark River. And yet, all it would take is one little ssssslip,” the Dragon said, sliding his powerful tail along the ground for emphasis, “for them to be ssssshhhhhown for what they truly are... cowardsssss...”

The younger dogs' lips twisted into snarls, but a firm command to hold from their leader calmed them—slightly. But they looked back at the lizards with malicious pleasure as the oldest dog delivered his retort.

“Aha, but what of the so-called Southern Dragons?” he said, and the lizards looked up as one, “huge, blundering oafs, the lot of them. Their size is nothing more than the Spirits' way of expressing something for them... pity.”

“Ahh,” the Dragon hissed, walking up angrily to the bank of the river, “sssssilence! Before I sssssee fit to teach you your mannersssss—”

“Don't toy with me,” the dog snarled, “you don't have the guts to try anything. And I don't blame you,” he said, not caring that things were getting more tense than ever, the Dark River was large enough to prevent either side from attacking without a great deal of preparation, “your packmate died in our Forest without even being able to call for help—”

“Sssstop!” the Dragon growled, “that'sssss enough. One day, I ssssswear, I will punissssshhhhh you. But not today... our Lands are close to war,” the lizard said, and, slowly, both sides began to calm, if slightly, “it would be ssssshhhhhameful for all of usssss if we were to begin it. After all, the distance between usssss and war is sssssmall...” for emphasis, the lizard flicked a small pebble into the Dark River with a claw

Just then, a log, a huge, heavy, dark log thundered down the river, in between the two sides.

The Dragon's scaled brow furrowed as he stared after the log. There was nothing significantly different about it, but... it was just a few fractions of a degree warmer than it should have been.

“Ssssso sssssmall...”

The log was tossed and turned, buffeted by the powerful current. It continued its harrowing journey for a mile past the border, and then smashed up against the jagged rock of the Southern Rocklands, shattering into pieces that bounced around inside of the small, hollowed-out area near the river.

Two of those pieces were furred.

Adhabu shook rapidly as Freak coughed several times, bringing up some of the water in him, then took in a long, rattling breath.

“What, you didn't like it?” the dark lioness said, grinning slightly, “I was scared at the beginning... but you know what? Water's not so bad, I think I could get used to it.”

“Well... I'm glad you enjoyed it,” Freak said flatly, “I've never been so cold and wet in my entire life... the Southern Rocklands aren't far from the Desert,why is it so—what are you doing?”

Adhabu had started to nuzzle at the li-tigon's chest.

“Oh, nothin'...” she said casually, “just drying you off, warming you up... we're in the Southern Roclands, Shujaa. We need all our wits about us, and being cold and wet's... a distraction.”

The li-tigon seemed to relent, and sat back, allowing the dark lioness to wick away the dampness in his fur. He stared straight ahead, emotionlessly, and Adhabu sighed as she backed away, giving her Freak his much-needed space.

Adhabu turned away and began to look for any points of interest: patrols, congregations of lizards, Dragons, or—

Her eyes widened as she felt a cold, wet nose touch her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Freak said, as he smiled suddenly and briefly at Adhabu as he passed her, “...now come,” he said, hopping up a seven-foot structure with ease.

The li-tigon surveyed the Southern Rocklands, the chilly breeze ruffling his dark-tan fur, exposing, for a second, his stripes. His black eyes were clear and hard as they peered over the land until he hopped down, not bothering to speak quietly.

“The Dragons of the South see in heat. We'll stand out against the rocks, so, we have to be very careful to scent or hear them before they get too close. And if they do get too close before we can get away, find a pool of water, and jump in it. It's dangerous,” the li-tigon explained that the igneous rocks of this land would be pulverized into a potentially lethal dust that, when mixed with water, became a fairly poisonous substance, “so be careful to close your nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. Because if any of it gets in...” Freak shook his head, and began to walk away, “it's over.”

The lizards, it seemed, were hiding out in the coves and overhangs of their land, now that it was too overcast and cold to bask in the sun. Freak and Adhabu had successfully avoided conflict... but they needed to get back to the Desert soon. Because Samehe and the Desert Warriors were taking a beating, and if they lost control of all of the Desert, there would no longer be any reason to fight. They'd be shamed, and, in keeping with the harsh sense of justice that had ruled the Desert for generations, would have to commit suicide.

“Harsh,” Freak thought, as he peeked over a small protrusion of rock, peering over a vast landscape of nothing but mercilessly, jagged edges without a hint of softness or care, “that's how the world is.”

“You know...” Adhabu said, padding up behind the li-tigon so silently that if she hadn't spoken, he'd never have known she was there, “I kind of can stand this place, Shujaa. Don't get me wrong, the Desert's my only home and I love it, but... dang,” Adhabu said, charcoal-brown fur shifting in the chilly wind of the Southern Rocklands as she approached Freak's side, “I wouldn't mind vacationing here.”

The li-tigon looked at the lioness. They were in the cat equivalent of prone; that is, they were on all four paws with their torsos lowered to the steep incline of the dull gray hill that gave them a bird's eye view of the Rocklands. Freak had to scoff. This land was so much like Adhabu herself—dark, forbidding, silent, and yet, in its own way, endearing. Its harshness, its sharpness, but the way that, with effort, it bent to the will of anyone strong enough to take the effort made Freak wonder if Adhabu, too, had another side—not a softer side, just... a more manageable one.

Of course, the answer to that was clear. That was the side that she showed when she insisted on taking over Msaka's normal duty of hunting for the pride, or what remained of it, anyway. That was the side she showed on the rare occasion that Sikia's infectious optimism and happiness spread to her. And that was the side that she showed when she was around Freak.

“Maybe I'm not as bad as I used to think. Maybe I'm good, when... people put enough effort into me. I swear,” the li-tigon thought, “after we win this war, I'll go back to the Pride Lands. I'll even take any of the Desert Warriors with me, if they want to come—Grandmother won't live much longer” he acknowledged to himself without much emotion, “and each day, she grows less and less stubborn in her insistence that the lionesses fight on to save their pride... but a pride isn't a Pride until it has males, cubs, family. The Desert Pride is broken... but perhaps, its survivors can look to a new life among the Pride Landers.”

“What's up?” asked Adhabu, shaking Freak out of his trance, “something on your mind, Shujaa?”

“...No. Just thinking,” the li-tigon said, and coolly vaulted over the top of the hill, followed by the dark lioness after only a second.

All was silent for a moment.

“Adhabu... after Grandmother's gone, do... you think that you, and Sikia, and Shindani, and Msaka would join me... and come with me back to the Pride Lands? There's nothing left here in the Desert. No pride, no—”

“That's only if you go,” the dark lioness said dully, cutting in, “you don't get it, do you, Shujaa? This is our home. And if we don't fight for our home, well... what will we fight for?”

The li-tigon was silent for a moment. The mission, thus far, had been a complete and utter failure—they hadn't found anything out about their newest enemies, and they'd left the others alone to an endless retreat that might not even be ended upon their return.

“...Each other.”

Time passed.

Now, it was dusk.

The sun broke out for a few brief moments, startling the Southern Rocklands out of its dark reverie. A few rays of bright sunlight splayed out over the horizon, reflecting and refracting through the lands craggy, sharp features.

Adhabu and Freak were heading north. It was slow going due to the difficult terrain, and the fact that they'd only been able to eat the occasional rodent—they didn't dare try to sneak into an abandoned cave where the lizards managed to cling to life by hunting... who knew what.

They were now nearing the border, and took care to take cover every few silent steps, and keep low. This part of the border was as heavily militarized as any; the lizards were on one side of a group of hastily-erected logs and rocks, and the dogs were on the other.

But between the cats and the lizards was a huge, deceptively calm lake.

Freak and Adhabu walked up to its edge, and glanced in. It seemed that there was a tunnel in it... but there was no way of knowing where, if anywhere at all, that tunnel led to.

Still.

The Desert Warriors needed them. And every minute they spent delaying their return to the Desert was a minute in which the Desert, or one of its lions, could fall.

“It’s risky…” Freak said bluntly, “but there’s no choice. We can’t hope to swim up the Dark River, and there’s nothing here in the Rocklands to use to distract the lizards. We have to take the chance,” he said, “…everyone’s counting on us. They need us.”

Adhabu nodded once, and waded into the chilly, somewhat murky water. She didn't shudder as she did, but Freak did, slightly, his mane vibrating around his husky, darkish frame.

“Heh... wimp,” the dark lioness rasped, playfully splashing a bit of water at the li-tigon, earning a sardonic, somewhat irritated look in return, “... kidding...” Adhabu sighed.

The li-tigon only walked forward until he was up to his shoulders in the relatively cold water—for him, anyway, but then, he was a Jungle cat. Adhabu was clearly more adapted to colder weather, having grown up in the Desert—that's what Freak told himself until he decided that Adhabu was strong... in her own ways.

The dark lioness puttered around, curiously tapping at this rock, prodding at that pebble. She was, after all, feline. She heard a sloshing sound—and was completely overcome by a relative tsunami in the still lake.

Then, a second later, sputtered, shaking herself off; she was utterly waterlogged.

“Shujaa, what—”

“Wimp. Come on...” the li-tigon said flatly, but then added, in a warmer tone as the dark lioness looked at him with an expression in between complete hilarity and irritation, “come on. Samehe and everyone else are counting on us.”

Noon.

The Desert sun shone down on its last inhabitants with enough light and heat to make them pant, slightly. They moved as quickly as they could to the north, desperately thirst for a drink from the waterfall that spilled down into their land from the Jungle. They knew better than to look to the west for food or water—Samehe had once gone on a month-long scouting journey to that area, and had returned to tell only of a bare land with the occasional tuft grass on its hard, dry soil and scarce foodstuffs.

Not saying a word to one another as they ran, the lionesses tried to just not think about what had happened.

“If we lose that much land in just half of a day, we'll lose all of the Desert in a week. Or less,” Samehe thought, as her paws flew across the hot sand.

And yet, the Desert Slayer couldn't blame her Warriors. All of them were injured, and even though Msaka had tried her best, she still wasn't moving as fast or as powerfully as she used to, yet—the wound she suffered had been grievous.

They reached the oasis, and immediately all crouched down, tails lashing about in relief as they drank. It hadn't been so unbearably hot, even for the lionesses, for some time now. And being that their enemies had a huge numerical advantage and had the ability to retreat, or have supply-lines of purified Forest water, the heat didn't affect them as badly.

They'd killed two Stalkers and at least five other dogs. Four lizards were also killed, but they hadn't gone down without a fight. Flanked by dozens of their comrades, the coalition had pushed far. The lionesses were tired, injured... and their morale had taken a severe beating.

That was a wound that was more difficult to heal than the fresh wounds that crisscrossed their bodies.

But Samehe spoke, as the rest of the lionesses drank, just to do what she could to lessen the blow of nearly imminent defeat: the combined efforts of the lizards of the Southern Rocklands and the dogs of the Dark Forest were not easily fended off.

“Warriors...” she said in a tone that told the younger cats that they could keep drinking, “let's be fair. Today, we didn't do as well as we need to. But...”

Samehe paused. Who was she fooling? Even if they had another five lions, they would never be able to hold back or fight off both enemy forces at once. That, and... the Desert Slayer's age was finally catching up with her. Perhaps it was the appearance of her grandson that had caused it; it was like she no longer had a reason to live.

“We're not going to abandon the Desert. Ever.”

“Warriors...” the old lioness said, and now, the younger cats looked at her, “Sikia. Tomorrow, it's your turn to go into the Wet Forest. The only way we're going to win, or at least subdue this war is if we kill the Forest Lord. Tomorrow. It's going to be hard... but it's the only way. My grandson will have to attack him. Then, you'll have to rush back to the Desert, so that we can stop fighting and go in to reinforce him and get him out. We'll post a sentinel to make that easier for you. It's the only way,” Samehe said, “...can you do this? I know it's a lot, but—”

“Oh, it's okay, Samehe,” the youngest lioness said brightly, positively bouncing over to the Desert Slayer to sit down just in front of her and look up with a wide smile, “this is my home. I'll do whatever I need to to protect it, and its residents.”

Samehe looked down at Sikia warmly, and reached out to ruffle her tan headfur.

“...Goofball. Don't ever change,” she said, and as Msaka and Shindani leaned down to drink again, Samehe added quietly, “you're the youth of this group. You're so important to us, because without you, Sikia, we'd all be as pissed off as Shindani.”

“Don't ever change.”

The freezing water struck Freak like a sledgehammer. He had to concentrate to not gasp in surprise and hold the oxygen in his lungs. Adhabu was ahead of him, and he struggled to match her speed.

Every passing second was like a day of agony to the li-tigon. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move properly, and the mineral-ridden water stung his dark eyes.

The dark lioness glanced back, and gave him a look that said that he'd better hurry up, because they were too far to turn back now.

And Freak swam faster.

Looking back, he wasn't quite sure when he ran out of energy, or air. All he knew that was at one point, he found himself swimming slower and slower, his skin becoming clammy from the chilly water. The dark, bottomless abyss below him seemed almost welcoming...

Luckily, when that happened, there wasn't much left to go. Still, Freak was a full-grown, or nearly full-grown li-tigon. Fortunately, he was noticeably smaller than either a lion or tiger, and that helped.

Looking back, though, Freak would always find it a source of slight amazement that Adhabu had managed to pull his hundreds of pounds of weight along, then up through the surface of a small pond in the Dark Forest.

Sputtering, coughing, Freak was only able to get to his feet minutes later. Only then did the dripping wet Adhabu remember to shake herself off, to avoid becoming even colder than she already was. But he dark lioness's fur was like a barrier to the intense chill of the water. So, her teeth weren't chattering too much, unlike Freak's.

They had to move along together, side-by-side, for the rest of the journey through the Dark Forest. They encountered no overly-attentive patrols, and that helped.

Freak was exhausted, chilled, and only when he and Adhabu broke free of the Wet Forest to trot across the Desert did he face the dark lioness, and give her a heartfelt, shivering smile.

“Thank you, Adhabu, thank you. You saved me.”

“Thank you.”

The Western Forest was silent. Dogs slept, pigs wallowed around, and cats snuck around, as unseen as the vague sense of unease that had gripped the entire Land of the Spirits.

“This is delicate...”

“Hmm? What?”

“This...”

They'd found the Forest Lord. He was literally within sight. Literally.

But, as Freak had said, things were delicate.

The swamp around him was booby-trapped. The li-tigon and Sikia had encountered a trap before—a weak patch of swamp that gave way and trapped anything inside of it with sticks and mud. Only barely had Freak managed to pull Sikia out of it before a patrol came by.

There were those kinds of traps, and others; trip-wires that released suspended logs; and pits filled with sharpened sticks.

Incredible to consider that so much care had been taken to protect a being that, physically, wasn't all that intimidating.

The Forest Lord had darkish fur that was splotched with brown, as if to camouflage himself in his land. He wasn't overly muscled, he didn't even have half the build of a Forest Stalker.

What made him deadly, Freak mused, was his mind.

But the li-tigon had a deadly mind, and a deadly body. Which was why he'd win this fight.

For a good half-hour Freak and his lioness companion watched, waited, pondered. But there was simply no way to reach the Forest Lord without tripping at least one trap. Even the trees had an active denial system; thorns that loudly popped when touched.

“Delicate...” Freak repeated, as he tensed himself.

“...Shujaa...” Sikia said suspiciously, “what are you planning...”

“There's no other way to do this,” the li-tigon said in a resigned tone, “but if we're strong, quick, and careful, Spirits willing, what I'm going to do will work,” he said flatly.

“I'm going to run as fast as I can to the Forest Lord. I think I can kill him before any real resistance appears. As soon as I move, I need you to do the same. I need you to run to the North—ignore any dogs, just avoid them. Get to within sight of Msaka, or Adhabu, whoever's been posted. I'll be hot on your tail the entire way, but the dogs will concentrate on me more, because I'll have the blood of their leader on my paws. But I need you to ignore me, because if you slow down for a second, we'll both be overrun.”

“The only way for both of us to get out of this alive is if you run, Sikia. Can you do that for me? For the Desert, for your sister, and your friends, and my grandmother? Can you?”

Most beings then would have become overwhelmed with emotion and clammed up in tearful appreciation or embarrassment. But emotion was what the youngest lioness lived for.

So, acting just like she was a little cub again, she rubbed her head against the crouching li-tigon as she circled him, covering him with her affection.

“Of course I can, Freaky-boy. Whenever you're ready, then,” the lioness whispered, crouching down in a position perpendicular to the li-tigon's body.

“Ready... now!”

Sikia was a being that had grown up to combat. Fighting was her life, and she was good at it. But all she saw then was a flash. Freak as moving so fast that the traps all seemed to go off behind him.

The youngest lioness was the next one to fly, to the north, as fast her paws could carry her. She heard a yelp of shocked pain, and knew that Freak had done his job. But the sudden series of dismayed, angered, and outraged barks said that hers was now all the more vital.

“Love ya,” the tan lioness smiled to herself, as she sped her way back to the Desert...

The lioness swore as she broke the neck of yet another dog in the endless array of enemies that marched towards her.

“Why—Sikia?!” she growled through gritted teeth, as she dodged the claw-strike of a lizard, then bite its side, ripping a scaled chunk of flesh away in return, “why her, why not me?!”

“Why... why... WHY?!” she roared, blocking the powerful paw of a Forest Stalker, then springing into the air, flipping around to kick the dog under the chin, “I swear... I swear...”

“Stealing my Shujaa from me... I swear, if she were bleeding in the Desert, I'd pass her by... and swear that I never saw her! CURSE HER!”

Sikia was starting to lose just a hint of her optimism. After all, pursuing her and Freak were dozens of the Forest's dogs. She was cut, bruised, and still sprinting; but how long could she keep this up? And what about Freak, who had to bear the brunt of the attack?

Panic was now flashing over her face at regular intervals. However, the youngest lioness broke free of the Desert—

Never in her life had she been more glad to see a friendly face.

“Hey! Hey, over here!” she called, and saw the lioness—who was it? She couldn't tell, not from where she was, all she saw was a silhouette... was it Msaka, or Adhabu?

“Hey, HEY! Help!” the youngest lioness screamed, as suddenly, a dozen Forest Stalkers burst out of their home, surrounding her, biting her, beating her, tearing into her.

“HELP ME...!”

But the lioness only paused, and in the lull of her battle, made eye contact with Sikia.

And laughed.

“No, help me! PLEASE! NO...”

But the lioness only walked away, out of sight, to fight back against a new wave of enemies. The fighting in the Desert was getting intense, and confusing; positions were changing, and tactics had to be re-written on the fly.

She was going to get away with this.

None of that mattered to Sikia, however. The lioness had been running at her level best for miles, and her heart was pumping hard. So, every cut she received let more and more blood spill.

There was no peace, there was no comfort in this kind of death. All Sikia could do was stop her pathetic attempts at fighting back, and cower. She felt her fur being ripped from her, followed by muscle, a paw, and other, more gorey body parts.

All she could do was hope that Freak was going to get out of this okay... because she sure as hell wasn't.

“Shujaa...” she managed to whisper, “Shujaa... don't... lose... hope... in... ...love...”

That was her last word.

Love.

That was her last thought.

Freak

“What's going on over there...” Freak thought, vaguely; after all, he didn't have much brainpower to lend to life's little mysteries; not when at least three dozen Forest Stalkers and who knew how many dogs were all making attempts on his life at once, “what are they killing...”

The li-tigon's gray eyes widened as he recognized the voice, the shape; and saw just the silhouette of a lioness disappear over a sand dune.

“Siikia!”

Freak knew no more, and acted on pure instinct. He dodged a paw-strike, broke a jaw with one of his own, and yelled, imitating the husky, low-pitched voice of an elder dog.

“It's a rebellion! They killed the Forest Lord; this one's just a decoy! Kill them, comrades, kill them; avenge our beloved leader!”

That turned a few heads.

And just in time.

Because more dogs were coming, more dogs and lizards. But now, they didn't know what to do. And so, while Freak was far from being safe, he was a little safer, as his enemies hesitated, then growled, and charged each another with cries of “traitor!”

Quickly, the li-tigon fought his way out of the frenzied pile of fur; the numerous injuries he underwent notwithstanding.

Panting openly, gasping for breath, and yet unable to stop, he dashed towards the corpse—no, it wasn't a corpse, no, Sikia had not gone the same route as Maisha, Chukizo, Vitani, and every other female in his life that he'd ever cared about!

“No, no, no, no, no, no, NO...!”

The li-tigon collapsed at the lioness's side. The Desert was soaked with blood, her blood. And a moment later, its unrelenting sands were soaked also with the tears of a freak.

“Who... was... responsible... for... Sikia's... DEATH?!”

And Freak thought he knew anger.

Shindani was pacing back and forth before Samehe, Adhabu, and Msaka. Cursing, snarling, shedding tears, the oldest Desert Warrior didn't turn again to look at her sister, not yet, not until her death had been avenged.

She stopped, directly in front of Adhabu.

“Well... was it you? WAS IT YOU?!”

Saliva flew from her mouth, landing on the dark lioness. But the only emotion that showed on Adhabu's face was sadness.

“Or you, Msaka?” Shindani said, suddenly turning to face the huntress, glaring her straight in the eye; or at least trying too—like Adhabu, Msaka was unable to meet Shindani's harsh gaze.

“TELL ME! GOD-DAMN IT, TELL ME!”

Samehe's eyes were wet. Freak was silent, sitting at his grandmother's side—he didn't know who it was, Msaka or Adhabu, and wouldn't even look at either of them.

“Shindani... even if you find out, what will you do you? Sikia's gone. There's nothing you can do to change that—”

“Shut up, Samehe... please. Just shut up...” Shindani growled, almost begging, “don't tell me what I can and can't do. My sister's dead, you hear me? DEAD!”

But still, Shindani's questions went unanswered.

“Fine. Fine. That's how you want it? Fine...” she growled, and even Freak shivered at the sense of malice that the Desert Warrior exuded.

“Well, then... I'm going to invoke the code of the Desert...”

Samehe's eyes flashed. That harsh set of rules... that was the sort of an eye for an eye mindset that had escalated the war, that had forced Chukizo out of her home.

“If neither of you are going to tell me, so that I can exact revenge—justice--on the guilty one... then you both have to commit suicide.”

Msaka and Adhabu simultaneously froze. The Desert was silent; its sands darkening as the sun began to set. A breeze ruffled the fur of all the lionesses present, and the li-tigon, too, rearranging his strange, one-of-a-kind mane.

The dark lioness and the huntress looked at one another, then back ahead. They'd made their decision.

“Not going to talk... fine,” Shindani said, huffing as she sat down, “do it.”

Slowly, the two other Desert Warriors extended one claw each. Only then did it occur to the both of them what walking miracles they were. Each heartbeat, each breath, each thought, each action, each emotion... everything they were was a miracle; everything they were was because of the greatness of the Spirits; and everything they had become had saddened the same Spirits, and who knew how many ancestors in the process.

Samehe looked back and forth between Shindani and Msaka and Adhabu. The latter two were slowly lifting their claws to their necks... they were going to go through with this.

“Shindani, please, reconsider, would Sikia really want this—”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, SAMEHE! SIKIA'S DEAD, AND SHE'S MY SISTER, DON'T TELL ME WHAT SHE WOULD WANT!”

Adhabu and Msaka flinched. Their claws were touching their fur now, and tears began to flow.

“Hurry up... I'm waiting...” Shindani snarled.

Both younger Desert Warriors twitched. Their ears were entirely flat as they began to press their claws into their necks, to make the incision...

“Wait... wait.”

No one had ever heard Samehe talk in such a soft, quiet tone before.

That's because Samehe had never spoken before while bleeding profusely from the neck.

Freak did a double-take and froze.

“Grandmother...”

Why was her claw red with blood? Why was her neck bleeding? That didn't make sense; that would mean that Samehe had slit her throat, and why would she do that? Why...?

“Adhabu and Msaka will not die... I've sacrificed myself... for them. Shindani... they are no longer indebted to you. They're indebted to me, and I—” Samehe was croaking now, barely managing to sit up, “I order them to...do... whatever makes them... happy.”

That was it: time up. The Desert Slayer fell, as if in slow motion.

Freak was the first at the side, calling her name over and over, pressing at the self-inflicted wound at her neck, trying to stop what even he knew was inevitable.

Samehe smiled up at her grandson. Despite everything she'd put his mother, and therefore, him through... he was strong. Strong, handsome, brave, loving, hopeful... and yet, after this... how would he live?

“Shujaa...” she whispered, so softly that it was inaudible under his cries, and the cries of the Desert Warriors, “Shujaa... don't... lose... hope...”

Then, it really was time up.

The Forbidden Island was in a state of tranquility, of meditation. Cretac, Altsoba, and the dozen or so other servants were calm, gathering power. They felt a spike—

“That's it,” the voice of their Master said, “this ploy has worked well. I may not have been able to win all the victories I'd like to in the physical realm of the Land of the Spirits,” Kifo, for instance, “but now... power... can you feel it? Can you feel it, servants?”

And then, the Master let his servants feel just a taste of the power he'd amassed, bolstered greatly by the violent, evil deaths of not one but two of the holiest beings in the Land of the Spirits: lions.

“Yes, Master,” they answered in unison, “yes...” Altsoba said, “yes, I can feel it...”

“And now, I will use this power to send the greatest—no. The only threat to me... far, far, away. To a land in which he will die.”

Cretac smirked. His Master did have a way with words...

“Servants—chant with me.”

There was a pause, and slowly, the entire Forbidden Island started to glow a horrible, bloody shade of red.

“Exile.”

“Exile.”

“Exile.”

“Exile...” Altsoba said, overlarge teeth flashing, “exile...”

“Exile.”

Slowly, slowly, slowly but surely, the power of the Forbidden Island and the evil contained within it grew. And then, all at once, it lashed out—

“So... what now?” Adhabu said dully.

Freak was pacing back and forth, before not one body, but two. Shindani was coolly liking her paw, eyes flashing at Adhabu and Msaka. Their debts to her might have been squared... but that didn't mean that she liked them. No, that would never, ever be true again.

The li-tigon spoke flatly, bluntly, and without emotion.

“I'm going. Away from here. And I'm not going to come back. Don't follow me.”

“Or I'll kill you.”

“I should have never forgotten the lesson I thought I learned when I was a cub...” he said, “...everyone is a threat. Everyone is a threat. You... you two. Sikia trusted her. But you killed her. Everyone is a threat. Everyone is a threat, and so that I never forget that, I'll never trust anyone again. Everyone is a threat.”

Freak paused in his tracks, then looked at Adhabu. Msaka's lips twisted into a snarl as he jerked his head, wanting to speak with the dark lioness alone. But Shindani growled at her, angrily, maliciously, in a manner that said that if she stuck a toe out of line, that would be the end of her.

Thus ended the bonds that the Desert Warriors had shared since before cubhood. The bonds that had been made in Heaven by the Spirits, and had been destroyed in their Land, by evil.

“It was you, wasn't it.”

The question was short, blunt, and to the point. Freak looked at Adhabu blankly, sitting down on the Desert's sand.

“Tell me. I just want to know. I won't do anything, and I won't tell Shindani. Just tell me.”

The dark lioness teared up for the first time in years.

“Why me? Why do you suspect only me? It's not fair, no one ever treats me fairly, why ME?!” she yelled, tears flowing from her deep-tanned snout.

“Please, cut the bullshit...” the li-tigon said quietly, and Adhabu stiffened—she'd never heard him swear before; and for that matter, neither had he, “just tell me. It was you. Tell me.”

Adhabu froze, tears flowing faster than ever. And then she ran.

Freak sat there, still. Alone, without love, without hope; as he always should have been. After all, everyone was a threat. That lesson was hard enough to learn, and the lesson that no one was to be trusted one was harder to learn still.

“This is what it took. The death of Grandmother, and Sikia... that's what it takes for me to realize that I was never, ever supposed to be near others. It wasn't them, it was me. Me. I'm bad. I'm a curse, a Freak, an abomination. I bring death to wherever I go. I'm bad...”

“It wasn't her, you know,” Msaka said quietly.

The huntress had walked up to the li-tigon quietly, and he hadn't noticed her until now.

And he paused.

Was this a confession?

“It wasn't her, it wasn't me...” the huntress murmured, “It wasn't either of us. And yet, it was both of us. It was love, Shujaa. Love. Love killed Sikia.”

“...Another lesson...” the li-tigon thought, “love kills...”

That was it. He'd spent enough of his life pretending. Pretending that he wasn't a Freak, that he was a Shujaa. That it was okay if he went near others. That he was worthy of love, that he should try to receive it, that there were people that weren't out to hurt him.

That he wasn't bad...

He was running now. Running fast, running hard.

Running away.

And he wasn't going to come back. Ever.

He was running north, now, towards the Unexplored Regions. His claws tore up sand, and vegetation, and Spirits knew how many lives, families, and bonds.

And then, all at once—

He was gone.

(Trivia question: What do al-Mujahids do over the summer? Five reviews to continue. Five reviews to see what will happen to the Freak.)

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