Light blue eyes ringed in lashes met dark blue eyes masked in black for moments that stretched heartbeats. Surprise crossed the usually controlled, self-assured face he had known so well and not at all. A moment of vulnerability— and then he lost her gaze to the dry forest floor. But, still, he watched, guilt swelling and raising its vile head. It had been a different time, he had been a different man… but, still, to see the lioness with downcast eyes standing before him twisted something ugly in his gut.

“Well. I certainly didn’t fly.” His eyes watch as he regains her eyes and his ears twitch at her dry, sarcastic humor— a smile hovering at the edges of broad, pale muzzle. It would have spread in any other case, but here and now there was too much here, too much history and too many emotions folded and hidden beneath the surface, to allow his lopsided grin. Though he did see her the dry smile that crossed the once-proud, partially white muzzle.

Cream ears swiveled backwards at Kiuaji’s sing-song barbs, and his muzzle pursed slightly. Usually, he held a great breadth of amusement for his friend’s humor— perhaps because the serpent so often said what his own, amiable tongue could not. But here, with Tsavo… he found the words grating and garish. Even if the lioness took them in stride.

Only now does a true, lopsided grin cross his pale muzzle. Though it faded at her question. “…ever since?” Ever since the Fall? Ever since he had told the Korofi General (Tsavo’s lover) of Dorobo’s weaknesses and strategies? Ever since he had used this mare? Navy eyes study her while his mind spirals, trying to untangle the web of meanings behind her nebulous question.

This was Dorobo all over again.

The double meanings, the guilt held at hoof’s length, the precipice of morality on which he balanced. A long, low sigh unexpectedly blew past his nostrils as he let out tension from his withers and shoulders; there was no need for this, despite his inclination towards it. “I… ‘left’ (fled, escaped) Dorobo just before the Fall to come to Helovia. It’s a long journey, as you now know. But yes, I have been here since,” his low rumble paused in answer to her question, wondering how much she knew, wondering how much he should tell. “I rule the westernmost lands here. They are sea cliffs, called the World’s Edge… I would be happy to offer you residence there.” To repay his debt, to assuage his guilt? To make amends? To gather those of Dorobo and ease the homesickness in him?

He paused, knowing the Kiuaji’s story was quite different from his own. And he was curious to hear it in detail— the friends had not yet had time (nor had the Elephant wished to know much of Dorobo after the fated Fall) to relay the serpent’s story of how he had left the Great Plains. But, as he waited, his eyes tried to stay trained on Aji for his answer yet they continued to drift back to the steely brown mare. “Tsavo—“ the low roll is out of his mouth before he can stop it, “I am glad to see you well.” His eyes belied the layers of meaning in his simple statement.

Tembovu

the Elephant King