There was some sort of commotion, something happening within the walls of her icy tundra of a home. She had been telling stories to her twins, all while Marembo slept peacefully in the little corner of the cave. He had stayed near the twins, but strayed a bit further when the children had found their companions. Each one of them was far more blood thirsty than the polecat knew, and he learned early on to stay out of their way. But the cave was fair game, it was safety and solitude, and Rexanna was always nearby to divert attention away from any attacks the small polecat might have suffered, and that in itself was a relief for the tiny companion. He slept, all while Rexanna paused in her story of Kings and Queens from her land when she felt as though something wasn’t quite right.

“Wait here.” She demanded of her children, standing and shaking ever so lightly to get the dust away from her ashen legs. She turned, slowly slinking out to the mouth of the cave. It was bright out here, far brighter than within her cave, and it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the contrast. Peering further past the hot springs, she noted a couple of figures near the entrance, small little blobs, but it looked as though they were headed this way. Her head tilted, curiously looking upon the creatures that were headed her way, when she spotted the familiar sharp silhouette of Deimos. But the beast that stood beside him was large and felt oddly familiar. The beating in her chest of nervousness began to wash away as they approached further, bright blue eyes lighting up while a small smile graced her lips.

It was Tembovu. He had come. Alysanne must have told him, for there was no other way for him to know (as far as she knew of course!) She practically danced in place for a mere moment as Marembo woke and trudged to the mouth of the cave, rubbing his eyes to push the sleep out of them as he looked toward the commotion. “Temb!” She called out to the stallion, not knowing how brash and brave the man was for busting into her home and being greeted by the Reaper himself. She offered a smile and a nod to Deimos of thanks before looking back to her lover, the joy radiating within her at the pride she felt that he might meet his children for the first time. Would he be up to what the twins’ imagination had brought? Would he match the description and glory that Rexanna had constantly bestowed upon him? She hoped so. She reached forward, stepping ever closer to the Elephant King with her muzzle outstretched, aiming to embrace the man she loved more than she imagined. “Did Alysanne send you? We had twins, can you believe it? You must see them, they're beautiful.” She was nearly breathless, excited and overwhelmed with what had occurred for the day.

"Talk."

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

The heat of Tallsun and dry air of the mountains had wicked away some of the sweat that had slicked his black-slashed sides during his mad gallop to the Basin. A discordant combination played in his mind: the joy of being father to Rexanna’s children was crowded by the unease of her distance and silence. And the silently, deadly escort by Lord Deimos did little to settle the King’s edginess. His turmoil grew and and agitated with every slow, dark step that led the two sovereigns deeper and higher into the mountains. (Did Deimos go so slowly on purpose? Had the Lord already seen his own children? How well did he know Rexanna?)

Such thoughts pervaded his mind, darkening his navy eyes to black in the fading light. Tallsun’s twilights were long, wondrous things; the sun holding onto its domain for as long as it possible could with long, slender fingers of pale light. They passed by water that billowed heat and sour smells; though it must be welcome in Frostfall, during this hot season the heat bending the air around it was unwanted. The Elephant glanced, unseeing, at the hot springs; but it was the distorted sight beyond the steam that drew his attention. Heat curled golden skin into cream tresses and swirled a gilded horn into black lines of her face. But it could be no other, not with those eyes—

“Diemos,” he muttered the Lord’s name distractedly, a preoccupied nod of thanks sent in the Reaper’s direction as suddenly the King’s own strides lengthened. His great body cut through the steam and shallows of the heated waters, not bothering to walk around as he took the most direct route to her. Once clear of the steam, his navy eyes met her joyful, cerulean eyes; staring for a moment before glancing down at the smile that gently played across her lips.

His black-rimmed ears were pricked forward as his sweeping, purposeful strides slowed before her; they twitched at her joyous greeting of his name, confusion further mounting in his mind. But this wasn’t the dark, insidious jealousy that plagued him moments before. It was pure bewilderment at the Thief’s exuberant prancing and calling out.

He stopped short of her outstretched muzzle, perplexed gaze sweeping the length of his love’s face and her craned neck; his own muzzle remained near his chest— for once not reciprocating Rexanna’s embrace. His gaze finally left her, sliding past the golden woman who had promised him love and given it freely, only to then take it and hide the knowledge of his children from him. (Or so it seemed to the Elephant King.)

But his befuddled stare found only the drowsy polecat. His navy eyes stayed on the marbled creature she had trusted him to name—what a promising day that had been; the day their twins were conceived. “Yes, Alysanne sent me,” his deep rumble was quiet and somewhat hoarse; his chest was squeezed with some kind of static quivering that threatening to steal his voice but in the same breath threatening to let loose a deafening bellow.

And it was this pulsating need in his chest that pushed him past his lover and deeper into her cave. Were the circumstances different, were his chest not seized by the urgent demand of paternal instinct, he might have marveled at finally being together with Rexanna in her home. So much shared between the two lovers, yet nothing as intimate as their homes.

But, as it was, the King had eyes only for the slumbering bundles of legs and foal-fuzz that were curled around each other, nose-to-tail, in the middle of a plush nest of grasses. Confusion melted from his mind as his eyes warmed, the squeeze around his chest releasing with each breath and sleep-twitch of the foals—of his children. His broad muzzle dropped, gently tracing the slash of black along he had given his son’s side and then moved to softly stroke the white markings Rexanna had given his daughter’s face. The touches were whispers on his children’s skin, not meant to awake them from their peaceful slumber as his eyes lit with awe.

An ear flicked backwards, towards the mother of his children, “Rexanna they’re—“ his hoarse voice cracked for a moment, blue eyes bright with the words he couldn’t speak. A deep breath unevenly pulled his children’s sweet foal-scent into his chest before he continued, “They’re perfect.” His great skull raised slightly, though his eyes could not leave the sight of the sleeping foals, now seeing the young animals sleeping near them. A fisidogo? And a taidogo?

His hide suddenly twitched as the acute loneliness that swelled beneath the joy the sight of his children had brought him. He was alone in realizing the companions of his children. Just as Rexanna had been alone in birthing and raising them thus far. Thick lips pressed together slightly as his other ear swiveled to match its mate and aim towards the gilded woman who had so easily and securely found a permanent place in his chest—even if she did not wish to be there.

“What are their names?” a broken undercurrent ran through his soft, deep rumble.

---

fisidogo = hyena cub
taidogo = vulture chick

The Elephant King hadn’t reciprocated the gesture, and for a moment the Thief felt a small amount of sadness creep across her spine. But she could understand it, being told of children that had arrived, birthed and made of your own flesh, but unable to see them until this very moment. So Rexanna tried to not take it too closely to her heart. He slipped past her, entering the mouth of her cave to look upon the bundled twins as they slept, flames emitting from Kiada in a trance of mere little lions on the prowl in the courage she often dreamed of when she slept. The Thief, blanketed in gold, followed the man of the plains into her cave, to see the interaction he might have with seeing them for the first time as she had not so long ago during their birth. Yet, when his ear flicked back toward her and he began to speak, it was as though she was holding a breath she didn’t know she had.

She exhaled gently, easily taking in the gentle scent of the King that she had loved so much, she felt joy beat within her breast that he was just as happy as she was at the circumstance of their last meeting. She slipped up beside him, Marembo trailing between the legs of the Thief to move over to the bundle of grasses that the foals slept upon, moving some little tufts of grass here and there so perhaps Tembovu might get the whole view of the two. Rexanna’s own gaze flickered between Tembovu and the resting peaceful faces of their children before stepping a little bit past him to lower her head to Kianzo’s golden mimic of his father’s appearance. “This is Kianzo. He was born second and surprisingly takes after you a lot.” She began, hovering her head closer to Kiada’s own ink dipped head, a mirror image of her brother and the markings of the two that had created such a cross. “This is Kiada. She was the first born, and she was born with magic.” She added in gently, looking up to try and catch his gaze for approval of the names.

But then a few moments passed and she emitted a soft sigh, trying to capture his gaze once again, to tell him of her travels to the West and how she had been pushed away – unable to tell the King of her pregnancy. Oh, how in the deepest pits of her being, how she hoped that he wouldn’t blame her for not telling him, not faced with someone who might’ve caused these two to not have even taken their first breath. A frown found her face as a small amount of frustration began to glaze over her oceanic eyes. “I came to the Edge before they were born. I tried to take you up on your offer, but one of the inhabitants wouldn’t let me pass. I told her that you had told me to come, but she refused. She knew… A lot about the history between us.” She shifted her head to look down upon their twins. “I didn’t want to try and push her, not in the state I was in.” She added in, hoping that perhaps one way Tembovu might be able to understand.

"Talk."

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

His watchful gaze does not miss Marembo’s careful ministrations as the polecat rearranged the grass around the drowsy twins. Nor does it miss the flames with leap along his daughter’s spine—curious lion cubs shuffling about in fiery curiosity. His overbright, glassy eyes reflected the filly’s light in the dim cave, though his ears remained tilted back, listening for Rexanna’s answer.

He shifted, keeping a small amount of space between his hot, sweaty hide and the Thief’s silken one as she slipped beside him. Though, despite his conscious efforts, his massive body still leaned towards her in basic, natural need. Even the magnitude of her deception and falsehoods regarding their children and her companionship with him in the Edge could not entirely abolish the connection his viscerally felt.

“This is Kianzo…” His gaze stayed on his son as she told him that the colt took after him—he did? How? A flicker of pride, truly a hubris in its ignorance, lit among the sadness and elation in his chest. A chest so broad he was named after an elephant; but, not quiet broad enough to contain all of these emotions.

”This is Kiada…” A flower’s first bloom, blossom born first of Rexanna’s womb and with magic. Never, in all his years of yearning for fatherhood, had he thought his loin could sow magic. It wasn’t a possibility in Dorobo, so it hadn’t even been considered to be a possibility in Helovia. Wonder gleamed in his eyes as Rexanna sighed softly alongside him, the foals beginning to stir as their parents stood over them, but then—

“Kianzo? Kiada?” his deep voice rumbled, still hushed but his was a voice trained for battlefields and great open plains, not sleeping cave nests, “How did you find Dorobian names?” Though pride and elation had replaced the broken undercurrent of his voice. Happiness at his children carrying Dorobian names—proud, right, good names— smothered the loneliness that had threatened to overwhelm his chest.

“I came to the Edge before they were born…”

Silence, save for the muted sounds of Tallsun that drifted into the cave met Rexanna’s quiet, unbidden explanation for her absence. But the Elephant’s body was anything but silent; a ripple of gray skin crossed over his thick hide in a wave. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing slightly in both confusion and hurt. Only two knew of his history with Rexanna: Orithia and Nyx. And only Orithia knew of it so thoroughly and recently…

His ears had slipped back, beginning to pin flush with his skull as his eyes suddenly blazed with an anger; who she—who was anyone to keep his children from him? to keep Rexanna from him? “Who was it?” His voice, no longer quieted, asked in a deep and somewhat dangerous rumble, “Who wouldn’t let you pass?”

And then his eyes swung to her, almost accusing, about to ask why she didn’t come see him anyway— “I didn’t eat to push her, not in the state I was in.” And, as Rexanna had the uncanny knack for doing, she answered his question and calmed his temper before it could rise further. His gaze gentled on hers, muzzle finally reaching out towards hers in a silent acceptance of her explanation and absences. His nostrils flared as he reached to stroke her lips with his, breathing in her longed for scent of sunshine and lilies. “I’ve missed you,” his genuine rumble, again, was quiet and hoarse.

But his now-quieted voice could not erase his earlier outburst. And so the twins began to stir, long limbs beginning to unfold and tangled into each other. Eyelids sleepily raising and short, slender necks unfurled, matching blue eyes half-open and blinking towards the two figures that stood over them.

And Tembovu smiled broadly then, light finally overwhelming the shadows in his gaze. “Jambo, children,” his voice was warm, low, and sweet.

---

Jambo = hello

The Thief seemed to watch with baited breath as her lover’s gaze softened on their children, as their names left her lips, he seemed to shift – from his prior curiosity to possibly overwhelmed wonder. His voice reached her pale ears, flickering and her eyes began to swirl in delight as the names fell effortlessly from his lips – as if he had said them his entire life. “How did you find Dorobian names?” He questioned and she placed a soft smile. “Well, I was upset when I left the Edge and came across a woman that had similar looking markings to how you’ve described those from Dorobo. So I asked her for help.” She swelled with a bit of pride, thankful deep down that the names had been dorobian and that so far, he seemed to approve. Yet, when she continued her statements, her honesty in telling him that she had ventured to the Edge, his voice roared – and she knew instantly it would disturb the twins. Her eyes danced down to them as they began to wiggle, but Rexanna didn’t mind too much. She wasn’t sure how long the Elephant King would be willing to stay – and with that, she wanted the children to at least finally meet their father. She let her eyes drift back to Tembovu with a slight shake of her head. “I don’t know her name. She was a Pegasus, though, with white and pink.” Her voice was soft, but he seemed to relax at the fact that she did attempt. That was what mattered to her. She didn’t want him to think she continued to blow him off when he was all the thought about.

A soft smile reached her lips as his muzzle reached out for her, she reciprocated and mentally swam in the scents of the desert and seaspray that accompanied the man in his most glorious stupor. She let her lips dance across his before tailing up his cheekbone ever so gently, a slight nod and a mental agreement for him that she had indeed missed him too. Then, he smiled, and looked back to the children as they woke and as their companions began to stir and move as well. Marembo moved away, then, trailing back to the leg of the Thief to get out of their way. The tiny polecat knew better than to cross the children in any way. “Jambo, children.” He spoke to the twins, and she continued to keep her eyes on the two – almost daring them to show their darker side in front of their father. But it softened as Kianzo began to stand and his companion moved up alongside him while his strong willed voice enveloped the air. “So you’re the Elephant King.” He spoke, and Rexanna nodded. “Kia, Zo, this is your father Tembovu.” She began, turning her gaze to the man at her side as she leaned into him ever so softly.

"Talk."

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

His ears perk, then splay in thought as Rexanna describes a woman with Dorobian markings that had given the twins their names. “Dorobian markings?” Tsavo and Adaeze were the only two Dorobian females that had passed through the Threshold—that he knew of. It seemed that many had sought to flee the Great Plains and come to Helovia. Perhaps there were more he had missed? He needed to find who it was and thank her for sharing such strong, splendid names for his children.

But he was not left long to dwell on such thoughts, for his lover then confirmed his irate suspicion: Orithia had shunned her from the Edge. Splayed ears pinned back—he would have words with his dove. She may be close to his heart, but she had no right to keep his children from him. Was this some ploy at jealousy? He could not imagine the strong woman to be so petty.

But, again, he was not left long in his anger, for Rexanna’s velveteen lips were reciprocating against his muzzle. Ears unpinned, eyes close gently, relaxing in the soft sweetness that was his lover— ”So you’re the Elephant King.” The proudly ringing, colt voice shattered through the warmth of his lovers touch. Navy eyes open fully, swinging to look at his now-standing son, expecting to be joyous and proud and relieved at finally meeting his flesh and blood.

Instead, the Elephant found bright blue eyes glaring daggers and dares at his father. Black brows raise at such a gaze, his thick neck arching and jaw tightening slightly even as Rexanna’s melodic voice and silken warmth lean into and wrap around him. There was a pride in his son; it gleamed from his glare and dripped from his daring words. For all the grass in the Plains, it reminded him of Hasovir…

“I am,” his deep voice rumbled, firm and unyielding in answer to his son’s challenge, “But, far more importantly, I am your father.” And his head dropped from his proud height, to the level of his now-standing children. Navy eyes, shifted to Kiada, his dark-faced daughter, melting from his son’s chill as she gave him a dazzling smile and attempt at mimicking the Dorobian language. “’Jambo’ means ‘hello’ in my language. It will soon be your language,” his low voice rumbled warmly— though suddenly pain pierced his eyes. Would he be able to teach his children Dorobian? Would Rexanna allow it? An ear flicked towards the Thief, though his eyes stayed on Kiada and her small companion clattering its beak on its back. His eyes could not leave her face for a moment, caught by the smile of his daughter—his first daughter. Living and breath and—

—and scampering quickly away towards the front of the cave. A low, deep, resounding chuckle echoed off the cave’s walls. “And I wish to see you and your companions better, mauangu,” his great skull reached out as she passed him, muzzle reaching out to touch his daughter once again. It was a loving gesture, but it also proved to the Elephant that she was real and alive.

His head swiveled on his dropped neck, to watch his son, who was carefully and proudly following his sister out of the cave as well. The two seemed connected moving to some harmony that only they could hear. But his son moved outside of the reach, his hyena pup’s teeth bared slightly as she passed the twin’s entwined parents; a warning and a display of the true distrust in Kianzo’s chest.

The Elephant’s eyes followed his son closely, watchfully. A mix of delight, sadness, and longing adding sharp lines to his masked face. HIs head rose slowly, muzzle turning to press lightly into Rexanna’s neck, lipping the silk strands of mane and giving a gentle tug, before following their children outside the cave.

He blinked once in the fading twilight of Tallsun, before speaking again, “What are your companion’s names?” And he did not let a distance last long between himself and his children, thick legs bringing him close to them as the left the cave’s coziness.

Immediately, in the open, a crippling wave crashing over the stallion: the need to protect his family. His ears swiveled uneasily, nostrils flaring to take in the lively scent of his foals, sharp gaze probing the shadows around them. And then his head rose slightly, seeking Rexanna, “Will you come with me, now? No one in the Edge will cause trouble, I promise you this.” His voice was fervent, as hushed deep whisper, eyes burning into Rexanna’s.

---

mauangu = my flower

Listen to them, the children of the night;
what music they make.

His eyes narrow on the loving gesture shared between mother and this stallion—between his parents. He thought more of his mother (but did he?) than to so easily take the man that had left them alone for so long. If he was a King, then shouldn’t he have to power to bring them together?

Such a narrow and simplified view of life was foalhood’s gift to the dark princeling. And his dismissal of his newly found father was further solidified by his words: ”Far more importantly, I am your father.” A father who renounced his power as King so readily; yet had not been a father to them since their birth? Bright blue eyes glare for long moments in to his father’s dark, unyielding gaze; his neck arches, his own teeth grit—were the stare not so intense,the similarities between father and son’s stance might have been amusing. But then, the colt glances away from the King’s unblinking gaze. It is the first stare he has yielded to in his young life.

Though he cannot suppress or deny the curiosity that boils in him—a language? A language that he, alone, could share with sister? His eyes alight with possibility as he slips after sister, leaving the cave. (What is mauangu? Already, he wishes that this language belonged to him and his sister). Uncharacteristically, remembering the intensity of that navy stare, he does not question such things. Though he does keep his distance from the Elephant King, not allowing him the loving touch given to Kiada. No, there was no love to be found in the darkling prince. His hyena cub snarled in warning, small pinpoint teeth bared as they passed by the behemoth father.

Both blink in the outside light, even though it is dimming twilight. Two pairs of bright blue eyes train onto Tembovu’s approach—their companions names? “They don’t have names,” was his cold, terse reply. His silence holds for moments longer; he may have yielded beneath the stare but, from the little he had seen thus far of his affection-loving father, his silent distance from the man would do more harm than angry stares.

The dark prince leans into sister, then, for solace against the overwhelming emotions that crawl beneath his silent surface. He wants to return to the dark comfort of he and his sister’s antics. Facing a father’s love was too bright a burden to bear.

Kiada & Kianzo

Her chest fluttered as Tembovu spoke to their son. Kianzo was always so conniving, so dark and easy to upset, that it was almost like a sigh of relief as their father commanded the child. This is what he needed, what she needed. She didn’t need to continually be challenged, not when she had so many things going on at once. But Kiada’s cheerful voice was kind and gentle in return, excited at the view of her father. Suddenly, Rexanna felt all her worries dissipate. If nothing else, at least Kiada found joy in her father. And as the filly bounded out and her brother followed after, she noticed the gentle touch and kind words of Tembovu as he went to turn in the tiny cramped cave. She reached out for him gently with a small nudge and a smile. “Teach them your language, just so long as they aren’t going to talk bad about me to my face.” She grinned with a small wink before they stepped out into the light.

As they stepped out, Tembovu’s attention was dragged to the companions. Rexanna’s ears tipped forward to him as he spoke, waiting for the children’s words. It was followed shortly by Kianzo’s snappy reply, saying they didn’t have any. Rexanna’s gaze swept up to Tembovu for a brief moment, wondering if the Elephant King would help name his children’s companions, much as he had named hers. Marembo watched from the mouth of the cave, doing his best to avoid the foals the best he could. A small sigh passed Rexanna’s lips as Kiada pranced on the spot, easily looking to her companion as he fluttered into the air, hovering above the filly as if he were her own pair of wings. The flames along the childs back were beginning to shift again, casting a gentle glow against the group in the fading Tallsun light.

Then, Tembovu poised a question toward the Thief. The only question he ever seemed to ask. She caught his gaze as the words left his lips, his eyes burning into her soul. Suddenly, she felt almost timid against the force at her side. She reached out for him, pressing her muzzle gently against his strong broad neck. “I’ve been thinking about it. The Basin is hosting a festival soon, to celebrate Tallsun’s end and Orangemoon’s beginning. There will be the Aurora, storytelling, fireworks, and many other things. Come to me that night, and I will tell you my answer.” Her voice was strong though it wavered in places. She pulled her head back to try and catch his gaze once more. “I will tell you now that I will not go to the Edge with our children unless you’re taking us there.” A soft smile formed on her lips. Hopefully, he would understand and listen to her honest answer. "But when you go back to the Edge, be sure to tell everyone of the event. The whole herd is invited. Be sure to invite Adaeze as well. You can thank her for their names." She added in, nodding toward the foals before Kiada began to pipe up.

"Talk."

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

His ear swiveled, followed with his navy gaze, to Rexanna as her muzzle brushed against him and she spoke, ”Teach them your language…” The King’s brows furrowed slightly, even as he physically saw the relief flood her body. He saw the strain, the tense muscles, the drooped back and stiff shoulders relax into place. Though the Elephant could, even from this short interaction, see the challenge his son may give his dam, were both twins difficult? Were raising them alone that demanding? In Dorobo, with the Makutano on the march, mothers often raised foals alone; but the tribes banded together to share the load.

Rexanna had been alone. And it seemed that these gilded, ink-dipped children were draining his golden siren. This gave him all the more reason to need to be with his children and their mother—he gave her a burning look before returning his attention to the foals outside the cave. Seeing them together, in the fading light, their mirrored faces and bright eyes; leaning together and moving (breathing) in unison.

Twins were rare in Dorobo. Much rarer than they seemed to be in Helovia. But, even for the sets of twins he had seen thus far, these two acted…as one. His navy eyes watched them curiously, fascinated by adoration, as his head dropped to their level. A dark gaze glanced towards the morphing of Kiada’s flames—they did not seem to burn her brother. A grin crossed his muzzle at his daughter’s exuberance to learn his language; though it faded at his son’s snapped response to his question. Dark eyes sharpened on the colt, “When you bond something to your soul, you owe it the respect of name and a decent life. Does she not faithfully follow you and share your emotions?” His deep rumble was reproachful, goaded into rebuke by his son’s surliness. He shook his head slightly at both himself and his sullen princeling; he had just met his son and already he was chiding him.

Though his grin returned at Kiada’s entreaty to help them name their companions. His thick horn’s tip motion towards his daughter’s white, hovering companion, “Your tai may be named Khairi. It means ‘kingly,’ and he may be an always present king to watch over my princess.” His low rumble was soft, eyes warm as he watched for his daughter’s reaction.

And the his attention shifted to Kianzo, the dark prince, and his companion, whose hackles had raised the long, dark hair along her back the moment his navy gaze had hit her bright blue one. The Elephant’s lips pursed for a moment, knowing he could not give such a touching name to his son’s companion. The colt would not stand for it. So, with another small motion of his massive horn’s point towards the hyena, he spoke, “And the fisi shall be Keusi, named for the darkness that her kind hunts in.” Little did the Elephant King know that ‘her kind’ included both of his children.

He could not watch and wait for his son’s reaction to the name, for Rexanna had begun speaking to him; answer his question. The question. And it was not a ‘no.’ Not was it a ‘yes.’ So, as the Elephant King’s traitorous heart was wont to do, hope began to bloom inside the thick ribs of his chest. She would tell him her answer in the following season. Never had the Elephant King yearned for colder weather, until this moment. Though want and need flamed from his eyes, his head dipped in a slow nod, “I will return for you, Rex.” His simple answer held volumes of promise, and his muzzle reached out to gently lip and kiss the crest of her withers.

But he froze with his lips on her satin skin, “Be sure to invite Adaeze as well. You can thank her for their names.” Adaeze, the woman from his past that he had knowingly mounted in attempt to give her the gift of motherhood. He had thought Rexanna has forsaken him; and he had wanted to share that intimacy with the cheetah. A soft sigh pushed out his nostrils, knowing that a time would come where he would have to share such things, and more, with Rexanna.

But now was not that time. Now was the time for his family.

So he gently and playfully nipped her withers, “Are you already sending me away?” His neck then wrapped over hers, his gaze returning to watch their children with their newly-named companions.

Listen to them, the children of the night;
what music they make.

The dark princeling relaxed, allowing his sister’s gentle lips at his ear to calm the tumultuous crashing of anger, betrayal, and fractious excitement that had exploded in his small, ashen chest the moment he had awoken to their father. ”We might be able to find something that benefits us.” And, as she was his mirror and other half, she tempered him. Where he had the hate to hurt their father; she had the subtly to manipulate. And so he slowly settled into Kia’s side, letting her take him down this scheming path; he found calm in it.

But, at his father’s rebuke, rage instantly rose and overwhelmed any calming emotion he might have felt from leaning into sister’s silken warmth. The heatless tickles of her flames near his spine did nothing to calm the sudden, blazing hate that spat from his black-masked face. Black-rimmed, small ears pin flush with his skull— “Does she not faithfully follow you and share your emotions?”

And his ears unpinned, tilting towards his cub. Even when Kiada had abandoned him for whatever adventures she sought, his hyena cub at been at his heels. Facing the she-ghost-whore on the salt flats; meeting and facing their uncle’s ominous sanity. Bright sapphire eyes dart to his cub in begrudging accession. He did owe the striped, golden cub-bitch a name.

His ears splayed in annoyance at the maudlin explanation for Kia’s vulture’s name. He just refrained from rolling his eyes; the heavy stare of his sire and his light (but stingingly true) rebuke stopped him from his normally churlish behavior. His sharp gaze watched Kia’s back, knowing that her true reaction to the naming of her precious vulture would show in the flames there.

But then it was his turn. Or, more appropriately, his companion’s turn. The colt was entirely mentally prepared to scoff at whatever sentimental name the Elephant King had deigned to give his companion. He would name her himself, away from his sire’s prying eyes.

”Keusi.”

That was, until, his father actually named the cub. And it was a name that came without mawkish words or warm, navy gazes. The colt’s bright, sharp stare darted to his father—only to find that his attention was back on mother. But something stirred in his barrel—something like respect. But, to the colt, such a feeling was too alien and strange to name.

“Keusi,” the colt whispered quietly to his cub. And the hyena yipped back, sharp teeth exposed in a toothy grin.

Kiada & Kianzo

Rexanna listened as Kiada spoke to Tembovu. Her gaze rarely leaving her beloved despite the children’s interactions with him. She had missed him, so much, that the pain in her chest had both grown and shrunk in the time of this encounter. It grew, because she knew she was sending him away again. But it had begun to shrink because he was here, and here with her and their children now. Now, it seemed as though her image of perfection had been completed. And oh, how she wished their children would grow up and get the life she never received. And oh, how she wished she knew more of Tembovu’s history, of how he grew up and what kind of family he had when he was just a mere colt. Perhaps it would do them both some good to have some hope – the hope of a life together. But she knew one of them would have to give in, to give up what they had for the other. And whether or not Tembovu was ready to give up his throne – which she’d never ask him to do, as he so often asked her to give up her own position – she realized that it might be time to give into temptation.

But of course, she wouldn’t let him know this ahead of time. No, she needed time to think it over, to speak with the leads, and to stay for the festival that she had come up with all on her own. And so, the Elephant King would have to wait. But he would be pleasantly surprised by the answer.

She thought this over as her lover spoke with their children, naming their companions just as he had named hers. Gifting them with names that suited each one of them and their respective personality traits. She listened, ears tipped forward as Tembovu’s attention returned onto her. And under his navy gaze, she began to melt once more – like she had when she first met him, an almost timid reflection of herself, viewing him as he tried to get himself rid of the tree he found himself in. She smiled to him, then, as he confirmed her invitation. He would return for her – regardless of time or circumstance. He always did. His lips reached out for her, then, and she leaned into his touch – velveteen muzzle lipping at her mane and his hard muscled body leaning back into her own. She pressed her face into his chest gently as he wrapped around her, asking if she was already sending him away, and all she could do was shake her head no. This moment had to last longer than the rest of their encounters. “It’s almost dark. Please stay, just for a night? You can leave in the morning...” She half asked, pulling slightly away from him then in the hopes that he might be able to stay a bit longer before making his venture back to the Edge.

"Talk."

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

Please stay, just for the night?”

Words that, in another time, he might have heeded without a second thought, float gently from his lover. The quiet whisper of her request twisted in his chest, his ears tilting back. He knew he could not stay. One night would turn to two. And two to three. And three to countless. It would be too simple, too easy, to shirk the responsibility and promises he had made the Edge; to those who lived in the Edge.

And if he did manage to stay for just one night, and come Orangemoon Rexanna decided to stay in the Basin… Would this night be a blessing? No, the Elephant King knew it would be a curse. Just as the memories Mara and Faxr had been. Though he would not trade them for all the magics in Helovia, there was some part of his mind that wished he did not have their ghosts forever haunting the back of his conscious.

So he would not give himself this. He would not succumb to the temptation his weak, tired, isolated heart so badly wished to give into. The warmth of his family, curled and safe with him in the close confines of a cave… “No, Rexanna, I cannot—“

”Please? What is father in your language?”

And any thought of leaving was drowned by Kiada’s bight blue eyes and gleaming white smile . He turned her milk-tooth smile, his own eyes brighting against the darkness that had begun to fall when he had steeled himself to leave. But now, beneath the request of his daughter and Rexanna, he was helpless to refuse.

“Bambo is father, mauangu” his low voice rumbled warmly as he shifted away from Rexanna and dropped his head to his daughter’s back. Her flames tickled his muzzle, but did not burn, “And mayi is mother.” His navy gaze rose to Rexanna’s cerulean eyes, a grin crossing his lips.

“I will stay until asubuhi—it means morning,” his grin broadened as he preempted Kia’s possible question with an answer. It had been a long time since he had spoken so much of his native language, and he felt he would be teaching much more of it late into the night.

---

Bambo = father
mauangu = my flower
Mayi = mother
asubuhi = morning