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YVmmmMMMMMMMMMMML MmmmY MMM ,AMMA _,HMMMMmdMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMML`VMV' ,MMMM AMMMA _'MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMA `' MMM ,AMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMa ,,, `MMMM AMMMMMMMMM'~`YMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMA ,AMMV MMMM VMV MMMMMV `YMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMY `VMMY' adMMM `V MMMM' `YMMMMMMMV.~~~~~~~~~,aado,`V'' MM aMMMMmv `YMMMMMMMm, ,/AMMMMMA, YMM VMMMMM,,v YMMMMMMMMMo oMMMMMMMMM' a, YMM `YMMMMMY' `YMMMMMMMY' `YMMMMMMMY MMmMMM AMMMMM , ~~~~~,aooooa,~~~~~~ MMMMMM YMMMb,d' dMMMMMMMMMMMMMD, a,, AMMMM YMMMMM, A YMMMMMMMMMMMMMY ,MMMMMM __ _MMMMMMMMM ___ _`~~~~'_ `~_~~'__ AMMMMM | \/ | / _ \ |_ _| / ___| | |_| | / _ \ | |\/| || |_| | | | \___ \ | || |_| | | | | || _ | | | __ ) || _ || _ | |_| |_||_| |_||___| |____/ |_| |_||_| |_| M U C K... ___________________white.lion@juno.com__________________ [ May 22, 1999 ] The Watering Hole Animals come from miles around to gather here, a centerpoint of life in a sometimes barren, often dangerous world. Though smaller water holes can be found in scatterd pockets after the rains, this is the largest, and the only one that seems to remain--in some form, at least--at all times of the year. The water is never clear, always murkily reflecting the vast African sky bending overhead, and yet always good for a drink. Grasses surround on all sides, half-shrouding a landscape dotted by kopjes and scrub acacias alike. Though this is a gathering place, be wary-- there are still dangers all about. Obvious Exits: [West]-Termite Mound [South]-Lesser Grasslands [East]-Grazing Plains [North]-Scrub Flats Contents: [IC ]Imhotep, a humble servant... _________ ____________________________________________________________ | | | | || // |ukeni is a young female Serval, who is past cubhood but | | ||// | has not yet reached her full growth or maturity. In | | ||\\ | confirmation of this, her small feline body is lankier | | || \\ | even than is usual for her kind, with the gangliness of | |_________| youth still growing. The pelt which covers her is sleek | | and unmarred by any scarring, colored a a rich tawny gold which | | fades abruptly to a yellowish near white on her muzzle, underside, | | and the inner sides of her legs. | | | | As well, this paler hue frames her eyes, which are colored a | | brownish gold little different from her pelt. As might be expected, | | they contain dark, slitted pupils, and hold the uncertainty of a | | young one not yet entirely sure of her place, current or future, in | | the world. Yet despite this, there is confidence in her as well, of | | a past known and lessons well learned. | | | | This feline's delicate face is topped by a pair of black-backed | | ears, which are upright, oval, and--to one more used to the propor- | | tions of the larger cats--almost oversized. The mottled patterning | | of spots streaming down from between them echoes the line of her | | thin spine before separating to form a series of rings about her | | short tail. Other round spots, the same blackish brown in color, | | mark her sides and merge into lines that encircle her lower legs | | before finally spattering into a scattering of spots over her paws. | |______________________________________________________________________| Imhotep There is something both unsettling and soothing about the sight of this panther, though few have been able to pin it down at first glance. Only slightly larger than most males, lithely muscled, whatever strength he possesses is unoffensive...reserved for the hunt. He is, in fact, more placid than might first seem appropriate, with a quiet and poise that is equal parts intimidating and just plain creepy. A round, slightly domed skull and thick brows complete the Egyptian countenance, fierce but unshakable yellow eyes seeming carved from his face. Even in his usual silence he seems possessive, as if he is perpetually waiting for a moment to strike...though the moment seems never to come. A deeply-voiced Nile accent softly defines his words, though even the most effortful of studies rarely define anything more about him; he uncovers more questions than answers. Like Imhotep, perhaps it is better for you to just sit, and wait. Imhotep has stretched at the water's edge, his eyes closed, though the small, dark ears are perked forward in attention. Kukeni hangs back in the surrounding grass, ears flicking and gaze shifting to take in the presence of others about, measuring. Imhotep's eyes sliver open, ears pivoting forward towards the soft sound of movement in the thick. He can't see anything, yet, but seems vaguely aware that there is another in the area. Three impala nervously drinking at the water's edge lift their heads as well, noses twitching as the watch the grass. Kukeni remains still for a moment longer, then, having made her decision, picks her way over the ground the the water's edge, some distance from the dark Leopard and, for that matter, the Impala--not that those are likely to feel any threat from a part grown Serval. The impala half-rear and bump against each other as they wander back towards their distant herd, picking along on delicate little hooves. Imhotep does not regard the animals, but fixes intently on Kukeni. A new face...always interesting. He says nothing, at first, merely indulging in a quiet study. Kukeni drinks, hunching over in intense concentration on the water for a time before lifting her head and then turning to stare back at the larger, dark feline. No challenge in that stare, of course--not from another kind, and a smaller one at that--but some confidence. Imhotep speaks, at last, his tone a mellow baritone--composed, unshakable. "...Your name." Kukeni straightens under her gaze, and answers with without hesitation, "Kukeni." A slight pause, and then she adds in the manner of her kind, "Of Kilahri." That will have little or no meaning here, and to others, of course, but that loss is no reason to abandon her past. Imhotep repeats it, as if to make certain that it is not a name he will forget...or perhaps simply to lace it with his own distinctly Nile accent, marking it like a possession. "Kukeni..." And, with respect, "...of Kilahri. Welcome to the lands..." At the respect audible in the other's response, Kukeni inclines her head in a fractional nod, and answers, "I thank you for that welcome, then." Imhotep's gaze is steady, as if he means to invade her with his eyes, seeking out more than what mere words convey. "...And what brings you to us?" Kukeni holds Imhotep's stare for a moment, glancing away briefly before answering in a carefully casual tone, "Time for me to wander a bit, is all. Old enough, certainly." Imhotep almost chuckles, hearing that note of youthful independence in her voice. Interesting. "...Your kind are few in number, yet," he notes. "However...perhaps with your arrival, there shall be more." Kukeni makes a vague sound in the back of her throat, feeling it rather rude to contradict the Leopard too bluntly, but... "Not from me," she says with a hint of a smile. "Or not for some time at least. And it is all to the good for my being, that there be few of my kind about." Imhotep's heavy brows now arch, seeming to widen the pale yellow eyes. "Indeed? Pray--why is this?" Kukeni asks, "My first point or my second? And," she adds with a hint of youth's mischief, "I have not heard your name, yet." Imhotep chuckles--a low, kettledrum rumble, as of thunder which has been kept at bay within the panther's broad chest. "No, you have not," he agrees. "I am Imhotep...High Priest of Pharaoh. And I was referring to your...seeming desire for solitude..." Kukeni does not repeat the name aloud, but does silently store it away. Then she concentrates on the other's remark. "Solitude, yes. That will do me well enough until I am settled. No need to seek conflict." Imhotep mmmms, a rolling sound, lips pressed together. "...Interesting that you associate companionship with conflict..." Kukeni says, lightly but with a thread of serious thought, "Oh, but they are assosiated. And if I have a mind to claim some ground for myself, I would rather not gain scars over it if there is no necessity to." Imhotep's voice drops to a slight murmur, nearly a whisper in the thick air of early evening. "...Fascinating indeed. I had no idea that your kind were...quite so territorial." Kukeni picks her way carefully, not wishing to insult her own kind to this one, after all. "Perhaps all are not. But I had rather not take chances." Imhotep continues carefully now, like a surgeon probing a wound, knowing that an erronous move--no matter how delicate--could cause damage. "...But something must have put that association in your head to begin with, yes?" Kukeni says with a feigned carelessness which does not quite cover her concern, "I've heard the tales, as often as any. And, although I would not expect you to know, Leopard, I am not yet quite grown. So I would run more risk of injury, would I not?" She looks to Imhotep and the end of this, her concluding question a polite formality which does not expect an answer. Imhotep's dark lips curl up slightly--oh so very slightly--on one side...a tiny mockery of a real smile. This one will either last a long time, or not very long at all. Either way, he shall be fascinated to see which it is. "Perhaps," he agrees. "If your kind are, as you say, territorial...which many are." He inhales deeply through his nose, letting it out in a slow, contained exhale. "...I wish you well upon your journeys, then...wherever they take you." Kukeni narrows her eyes for an instant, perhaps catching some hint of the other's thoughts in his expression. But when she speaks the tone is genuine enough, civil and almost friendly. "I thank you for that well wishing." Imhotep clears his throat, sitting upright now, round ears again cupping in her direction. "Have you any idea where you plan to set up house, Kukeni?" He clips her name, giving it a heavily foreign sound in his rich accent. Kukeni answers, "Not yet, no. I plan to continue to look about. The main thing's a water source, of course--" she pauses, smiling a little, realising how close she came to beginning to ramble. "Well, it may take some searching," she finishes. Imhotep nods slightly to this, becoming more casual as the moments pass. He has learned what he needed to--for now, at least. "...The waterhole is a readily available watersource, most times of the year...and to the west, there is the river, although it is a source of somewhat fierce competition, at the moment." Kukeni nods sharply at that last point. "Water tends to be. Hence the...value. In any case, you say there are few of my kind about here?" Imhotep admits, voice softly rolling, "I have not seen any in many a season...though I cannot guess at the reason for their disappearance." Kukeni offers, "Disease, perhaps. If so, it did not reach my birthplace, but such might still have affected this area." Imhotep nods to this, as well, supposing, "...Then it shall be good to replenish the lands with your blood, once again." Almost teasing--although he never really teases...does he?--Imhotep adds, "...That is, assuming you allow another to get close enough to you." At this comment, Kukeni shows a rather startling expression, in contrast to her earlier calm: a brief feral grin, displaying teeth before she closes her jaws. "Eventually," she tosses out. "Not just yet." Imhotep chuckles, squinting his eyes amusedly. Yes, this one will be just fine. "Well," he offers in return. "...There is no hurry. Patience..." And here he trails off, drawing a breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. Almost bitter. "...makes us stronger." Kukeni looks over Imhotep once more, as if searching for the source of that hint of bitterness in his attitude. Not that the reasons, or even the presence, is her concern...but curiosity at least impels her to wonder. Imhotep's expression has melted back into stoicism, however--not an ounce of that previous bitterness left to tell tales. It is, in truth, something he has kept well hidden...and a long story, in and of itself. His eyes find the young serval again, brows curiously lofting, expecting something further to pass her lips. As if in deliberate, stubborn negation of that wish, Kukeni remains silent, keeping her gaze directed towards the Leopard, although she is young enough that her face shows some hint of her drifting thoughts. Imhotep draws a deep breath, picking himself up from the water's edge. "...Have you surveyed the lands, yet?" Kukeni accepts the change of topic without remark. "Not a large portion, no. Nearby here, I have, somewhat." Imhotep moves forward, and suddenly the cat's full size becomes apparent. He is only slightly larger than most males of his species, but seems to possess a commanding presence--a power exuded from each slight motion. He swivels his head towards the serval, offering in baritone, "...You may indeed find the river a preferable choice, if you do not mind sharing territory with the lions. It is rather a sore spot, with my kind." Kukeni ignores the concluding remark, respondly merely, "If the Lions let me alone as they should have all reason to do, I might accept that possibility." Imhotep rounds the water towards her side--and it does take him awhile, as the waterhole is by no means small at its widest point--and then begins moving southward--expecting, apparently, that she will simply follow. "Come, then." Kukeni waits a moment before doing so, as if to underscore that she obeys of her own free will, then steps after. Imhotep heads south. You head south. Lesser Grasslands The well-beaten earth of the northlands bends away into a shallow valley, grasses grown not quite so thick as in the hunting areas, but with a richer, greener hue that tells of tributaries threaded beneath the soil. Low brush growth becomes thicker and more frequent as one treks the southerly root, also, and in the distance you can see the beginnings of the junle's dark mouth. The sky is covered in a shredding of clouds, painting the rolling landscape with constantly shifting shadows. Obvious Exits: [North]-Watering Hole [South]-Canopied Jungle Contents: [IC ]Imhotep, a humble servant... Imhotep moves steadily southward, shoulders and hips perfectly in synch, following a thinning trail through te darkening green of the grass. He turns his head eastward, glancing at the horizon, then continues... Imhotep heads south. You head south. Canopied Jungle The overgrown jungle canopy tapers to the north, where grasses extend in a spacious, rolling valley. Little light shines through here, however, marble-cracks of sun making wraith-like watermarks on the heavily mossy jungle floor. Thick tree trunks crowd on all sides, though they seem to open up to the west, where the earth breaks away from a slight higher tier. Obvious Exits: [North]-Lesser Grasslands [West]-Mossy Slope [South]-Jungle Mouth Contents: [IC ]Imhotep, a humble servant... Kukeni tenses a fraction, not one to be comfortable in this dark area so different from her familiar grassland. Imhotep does not glance back at her, still trusting she is in tow. If she breaks away, it is her own business... Imhotep heads west. You head west. Mossy Slope Light? Never heard of it. The sun hasn't seen the earth here in ages, and the damp, dark smell of damp decay greets your nostrils from every corner. Though the trunks here are slimmer and more generously spaced than elsewhere in the rainforest, their canopies spread broad arms, blocking out all hints of daylight. Slats of sunlight strike visibly from the east, falling in a deeper depression accessible down a rocky slope. Footing is poor here, hunting even worse, but this is still a place where the shadows come alive. Obvious Exits: [West]-River Basin [East]-Canopied Jungle Contents: [IC ]Imhotep, a humble servant... Imhotep pauses at the base of the slope, muscles bunching before he springs upwards--hop-skotching from level to level. He glances back, at the peak, gazing down at her. Darkness frames him, and his eyes are softly luminous. Kukeni slows as she picks her way carefully through this unfamiliar ground, but follows doggedly none the less. Imhotep smiles very very slightly, pleased at her determination, and turns-- continuing into the blanket of the dark. Imhotep heads west. You head west. Magharibi River Basin The trees at last break, shying away from the flat earth bordering the rushing river. So swift is its current, during monsoon, that many an animal have lost their lives to its power. In the same, in times of drought it is nothing more than a harmless gouge carved out of the soil. Although too broad to cross, the steep sides of the river basin rise to mossy lips, extending to a grassy north-south stretch. A line of bare soil divides the green, worn out by travelling paws and hooves. Obvious Exits: [South]-Up, to the Highlands [North-West]-Thicket Path [East]-Mossy Slope Contents: [IC ]Imhotep, a humble servant... Imhotep moves to the edge of the water, pausing for a moment to gaze across the river's raw surface--pushing, rushing, roaring...seeming angry, even now. It looks as if it has swelled, in recent days, and could almost become dangerous, were it to overflow... Imhotep's head turns slightly, gaze fixing on the serval. "The river begins here...for all intents and purposes. It runs far to the north, but the further you go, the deeper into lion territory you trek. They may smile favorably upon you, however...you just never know." Kukeni blinks as she emerges from the darkness, and waits at the edge of the trees for her eyes to readjust before moving to the edge of the water. Not too close, but enough to observe it. Imhotep himself does not even stand too near to the water, not trusting its strength...nor the crocodiles which occasionally wait by the grassy bank. Too many cubs have been snatched up and killed, already. Kukeni hurrs vaguely, impressed by the river's force but certainly not by its poetential as a source for a territory. Imhotep tilts his head, regarding the serval, then exhales through his nose. In truth, he knows very little about the needs of a young serval--his experience, thus far, has been only in passing. "...Besides water," he rumbles. "What is it you are searching for?" Kukeni says absently, still staring at the raging water flowing below her. "Grass, of course, preferably with a form to dwell in. That's--" she tears herself away to face the Leopard once more, as she clarifies for his benefit, "A grass mound, hollow. Someone's old den would do as well, but a form is more...traditional." Imhotep narrows his eyes--as this is unheard of, to him. The cheetahs sometimes stand upon mounds, the lions occasionally gather about the bases of trees or kopjes, and his own kind are arboreal by nature, but he has never heard of a cat living -in- anything before. "...A hollow?" It's an utter puzzle to him. "...and how do you intend to defend yourself in such a...'form'." Kukeni says slowly, "If there are none of my own kind about, there would be little need." She stares back at Imhotep, stance shifting to somewhat more solid, defending the traditions of her own kind. Imhotep now studies her with a mild smile--purely patronizing. "You assume that only your own kind are to be feared? Dangers abound, my dear." Kukeni seems to deflate under the mild chastisement, looking to the ground between her forepaws, suddenly seeming very young. Imhotep closes his jaws, drawing a deep breath in through his nose. "Now," he intones, more gently than a moment before. "Let us find a place for you that fits all of your criteria..." Kukeni raises her head, without having lost that look of a youngster out in a world she is finding a bit too large for her to handle. Imhotep seems to respect this, and silently leads her northward, deeper into the greenery and following the river's course. Imhotep heads north-west. You head north-west. Thicket Path The path curves, thorny brush snarling at the line of trees that flinch away in the east. They tear cruelly at their own roots, as if if self- loathing, and if you look close enough you can see the skeletal, bird-like remains of animals which had become hoplessly tangled within. Looking westward offers little else in the way of escape--the river rages, rushes, pushes and roars, uncrossable and inescapable. Obvious Exits: [North-West]-River Bend [South-East]-Magharibi River Basin Contents: [IC ]Imhotep, a humble servant... Imhotep pauses, and though the river is loud here, he raises his voice slightly to be heard. "...You may be able to cut through the thicket...there is most likely something on the other side, but it will take some work. Or shall we continue north?" Kukeni automatically lowers herself as she moves through this tangle, although she is small enough that it should not be impassable. "North," she offers, her own voive loud over the river's sound. Imhotep nods, and continues as directed. Imhotep has left. Bend in the River As the thorny growth to the south-west tapers, so do the trees reclaim their reign over the land. Torn between light and dark, shelter and open sky, the river's bend mingles rainforest with the green meadowland that thrives so healthfully up north. The torn jungle canopy claws futily at the sky overhead, unable to reclaim this area with darkness. Grass has long since been worn to hard earth underfoot, though a fringe of moss overhangs the lip of the riverbank. The river roars in your ears... Obvious Exits: [North]-Rainforest's Edge [South-East]-Thicket Path Contents: [IC ]Imhotep, a humble servant... Imhotep dips himself back into the shadows, like a droplet of ink trying to rejoin its spilled well. Imhotep glances back to her, noting, "...The jungle lands extend a short distance north of here--the space of a mile or two. Beyond that, we overlap with pridal lands. Lenith is the name of the current queen...be wary of her." Kukeni pauses, head turning as she looks over this area of contrast. "Lenith," she echoes. "I will, then." Imhotep takes another long moment to gaze about, studying as if he were selecting land for one of his own cubs...if he'd been permitted to father any. "To the east, perhaps, through the trees...there may be land. Come...we travel further north..." Imhotep heads north. You head north. Rainforest's Edge Though the forest's treecover breaks away both to the north and south, it is solid in this small but thriving area. Sunlight splatters in dappled patches here-and-there, highlighting feline pawprints and three-tined tracks which must belong to tropical birds. Deeper into the southern jungle, you can hear the whooping cries of birds and primates--all a soft cacophony underscoring the steady, misty hiss of the river. Obvious Exits: [North]-River Glade [South]-Bend in the River Contents: [IC ]Imhotep, a humble servant... Imhotep has slowed to a stop, gazing northward with almost stormy eyes...possessive. He turns his head, silently regarding the young serval. Kukeni pauses once more, this time in one of the dapples of shade. She looks northward as well, then at the Leopard when he turns his head to watch her. Imhotep's tone becomes grave, almost warning, though it does not appear to be in threat. "The river glade lies north...and beyond that, the pride's territory. You are permitted to travel through it, but they may not appreciate you setting up house. I can take you there, if you would like, however." Kukeni asks with genuine interest in the reason, "What would it matter to them, a Serval more or less on their ground?" Imhotep shakes his head, rumbling, "I cannot know. I would have thought them impartial to my presence, but instead my priests and I have become a subject of great contention among the lions. If they do not like you, they will form their own rules for wanting you out...such is the nature of lions." Kukeni latches onto the word that confused her. "Priests?" She questions. Imhotep clears his throat very slightly, and settles his weight to his haunches. This is never an easy one to explain. "I am High Priest of Pharaoh...an elder male panther who has fathered many of the land's leopards. We do not have social groups, like the lions, but we do...centralize, around dominant figures. Pharaoh is one such figure...and I serve beneath him. I tend to duties of state and, when necessary, prepare the dead and dying for the other world." His eyes are cool, almost chill as he explains this. "...Those that serve beneath me are my priests...beloved of Anubis." Kukeni nods slowly, ears still as she focuses on the dark Leopard's words, not understanding them completely, but willing for the moment to merely listen. Imhotep adds, feeling that it needs to be explained. "I do not--that is...we...do not worship the same Idols as the lions...and so, to them, the land that we inhabited to the north of here is sacriligous. We have been granted passage there, but are no longer permitted to perform any ceremonies." Again he looks bitter. "...They have yet to stop us, however." Kukeni again nods, but does not bother to disguise her lack of understanding. Hers is not a kind that deals much with others, and so this talk is largely foreign to her. Imhotep gives it up, however, exhaling and then rising to his paws. "Come...I shall show you." Imhotep heads north. You head north. River Glade The river takes a sharp westward turn--following a path that few have seen, to some distant ocean. It hits a shallow bend, however, pebbles and round rocks rendering it into a trembling glade sparsely grown by water reeds. Rippling eddies dimple at the bank and further out, and fish are actually close enough to see and catch, if you don't mind getting wet. Upon the opposite bank, a rocky wall vaults sharply upwards, unreachable to all but the winged. As the southern trees die out, also, this area opens up into a clearing that is unpredictably grassy or clear--a place to play, to relax, to enjoy the atmosphere and the moment. Predictably, the glade has become a crossroads to many species. Obvious Exits: [North]-Up Hunter Hill [East]-Cricket Grasses [South]-Rainforest's Edge Contents: [IC ]Imhotep, a humble servant... Imhotep's demeanor changes here, becoming almost halting with caution. Imhotep looks back at her, gauging her reaction in patient silence. Kukeni does not speak, but looks about herself cautiously, almost as if expecting a vengeful Lion to appear from the shadows. Imhotep would almost laugh, if he had not been ambushed, himself, so many times before. "Go no further north," he advises. "...That is the heart of where they dwell. Have you seen anything that strikes you, Kukeni?" Kukeni admits, "Not yet, no. Should I have?" She cranes her neck to look up at Imhotep, asking for guidance. Imhotep exhales deeply, thinking for a moment. He has never done this before-- he's not quite sure. "...The jungle may not be what you are looking for. The lusher grasslands abound and teem with life...but also with greater dangers. Do you climb very well?" Kukeni draws herself up with pardonable pride. "I do. And swim also." Imhotep allows himself to laugh--the rich sound of it carrying, even over the river's lingering roar. It's an affectionate sound, however, pleased with this show of pride. "Good...then you would do well to acquaint yourself with the arboreal set. You'll have greater luck staking out a tree for yourself in the jungle, or an acacia in the grasslands. Hyena cannot climb, and lions will not usually hazard thorns to come after you, no matter how hungry they might be. Perhaps you'll even be fortunate enough to find a hollow one." Kukeni permits herself some hope. "Perhaps I will, at that. And I need only a little space. I will certainly consider that." Imhotep nods, giving a little grunt of acknowledgement. "...Then go back the way we came, if you so desire. Lands stretch both to the north and east of the watering hole, and will provide you with a vast area to select from." Kukeni nods in acknowledgement. "I'll do that. Thank you for all your help."