Tomorrow is a hope. Never a promise.

The serval was sarcastic, dismissive, of his sisters reply. It caused a gnash of his milkteeth, ears pinned flush with his skull as mentions of others “walk all over” Kia flicked out of the serval’s mouth. He leaned further into his sister, dark muzzle raising to her white-rimmed ear, whispering fervently, “Do not listen to this tierboskat. No one will walk on you. We will have zaidi purpose.” The colt interspersed the bits of their language their father had taught them thus far, hoping it would lend some kind of unity between them once again.

His ears unpinned as he carefully listened to the lanky cat’s answers to all of those around him. Hid cunning gaze sliced from smoking spots to chided equid in turn, tail twitching with interest. What was happening here? Keusi’s jaws snapped loudly once, indicating her boredom. She was hungry, it flowed through their bond. But the colt ignored her, save for a warning raise of his back leg—promising a swift kick should she begin pester him with dark ideas. He needed to focus. Both on Kiada at his side and what was happening around him.

And, finally, the serval’s eyes turned on him with a taunting question. The colt’s gaze blazed with cold annoyance, but he still was uncharacteristically silent for a moment, thinking about his words rather than throwing them with reckless abandon with the intent to harm. Hadn’t he harmed his sister? “My sister’s confession is between her and I, now.” His reply was terse, initially, eyes darting to Kia’s. Then, however, he answered the servals original question.

“But I would ask what it is like, having all that power—” his gaze gleamed at the word, shockingly clear and truthful words ringing in his deceptively deep voice for his youth, “—Being all that power. How do they use it? Why do they use it?” His chest had filled, swelled with the thoughts of such forces, bright eyes now staring into the ridiculously smiling serval’s smokey face.

“How do they control it? And what controls them?”

Though the colt was ambitious, as plainly showed by the fervent nature of his questions, there was no greed in his voice. He had but touched the essence of power when harnessing his own ashen gifts. He had but seen the significant of leadership when he had witness the Basin Lord and Lady call a meeting.

But the colt wanted to understand power. Not just see it. Or feel it. And the gods—the gods were the source of that understanding. So he answered the serval truthfully, sentences carefully crafted and darkly honest.

Only now does his brazenness shine through, “How is this question, tierboskat?”

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tierboskat = serval
zaidi = more/greater