What's Left Behind

[Kula]

Kula couldn't remember ever seeing Sarafina cry before. When the news had been delivered though, that Scar had indeed been lost to the battle... She hadn't known that lions could make those kinds of noises. With their gathered cubs around them, Zira and Sarafina had both crumpled in their own ways. Clinging to each other and their children, roaring and screaming furious denials.

Their Scar, king, friend, beloved: dead. Not even a body had been recovered for them to mourn properly. For all the lionesses knew the wonderous leader they'd followed most of their lives had been devoured like so many of the ghazi, eaten like prey in his final moments.

The concept was... Incomprehensible.

Worst came the whispers following the lionesses' cries. Cradled between cubs and lover, her muzzle pressed to Zira's neck like a child seeking comfort, Sarafina had groaned out through quiet sobs as though injured herself.

"Our cubs... O o h, he never knew..." 

She who had tried so hard for so long, who had struggled with the births of Nala and Mheetu, who longed to bring at least one more litter for Scar to raise... Sarafina was pregnant. Not having expected any developments of the sort Sarafina hadn't realized that life grew within until late in her pregnancy. She'd intended to tell Scar and Zira together upon his return that within a month or two they would welcome another addition to the family... A hope squandered now, the joy tarnished with loss.

Kula's chest felt hollow as she gazed across the polished room upon her sleeping mother, kept resting by some brew the healers had concocted to ease her stress and prevent a miscarriage. Now they rested in one of the palace's many great halls. This one had been repurposed as a "den" for the great felines residing in Agrabah and was outfitted with drinking pools and copious cushions for lounging.

At the moment the room held only a handful of occupants scattered across it, lulled into complacent dozings by the night's cool air and the nearby garden's chirping insects.

Kula sighed.

[Vitani]

This was an odd sensation. The grief in the air was palpable, and yet Vitani herself struggled to process the loss. The lioness herself hadn't felt as though she really had the chance to know their king, despite how he had been just as large a figure in her cubhood as her own mothers. And it wasn't as if Vitani felt nothing, the grief had lodged itself squarely in her chest, twisting and writhing as she watched her family grieve. 

She'd never seen either lionesses so... Broken looking. She didn't honestly believe they could ever even be broken. It was a numbing and sobering sight. One Vitani could hardly force herself to bear witness to. The gruff lioness could hardly bear her own grief; Unlike the other lionesses, Vitani felt strangely muted by the turn of events. There was hardly any reaction at all, aside from silently attempting to comfort her sisters and mother (something she was woefully inept at) although grief still pulled at her heart. 

By now, the sounds of mourning and grieving had given way to the evening silence as the other lionesses resigned to sleep. Vitani found herself unable to fall asleep, even on the soft cushions and pillows and the lullingly quiet atmosphere of the palace. After fitfully attempting to fall asleep, the scruffy looking lioness hauled herself out of her "nest", and slowly dragged herself over to one of the many pristine looking pools. As she lapped up the cool liquid, her eyes caught sight of another lioness, apparently also unable-- Or not willing, to sleep. Kula. 

Chest heaving with a small sigh, the young lioness padded over to her. And she was silent for a long moment, having not thought at all of what she should say. There was no sharp, sarcastic remark or witty, biting comment she could make. Not this time. It was uncomfortable, being at such a loss for words.  

She eventually croaked out a, "Can't sleep." in a hoarse, weary voice as she seated herself next to the larger lioness. 

[Kula]

Emerald eyes had flicked up to Vitani as her movement disturbed the stillness of the room. Kula's attention lapsed away as her sister stepped to the pool for relief before traveling back when it became apparent that the younger lioness was approaching. A soft hum of acknowledgement answered Vitani's confession, her elder shifting to allow a more comfortable seat at her side. "Yeah. Me either."

Kula looked across at their mother again, blinking slowly. It didn't quite... Feel real. Her father was never going to return.

On top of that they were going to be welcoming new cubs into the family, sooner rather than later. It was very different from the celebratory air they'd had when Zira had confessed her pregnancy. They'd been so excited then to welcome new heirs, new family members... The lioness closed her eyes as the image of her father's proud smirk, congratulating and worshipping upon the newborn Vitani and Kovu, invaded her mind's eye. A moment of silence allowed the thought to fade a bit and the sudden choking sensation in her throat to ease.

"It's so strange," the quiet of the room seemed to demand that volume be kept to a murmur, "Simba's dead. Mom's having more cubs. We should be in Pride Rock where we belong now. But Dad..."

[Vitani]

Vitani sat in silence as Kula spoke, tail idly swishing back and forth every now and again. Again, she felt oddly unequipped to handle any facet of grief, although she felt blessed that Kula didn't seem to be grieving as badly as the other lionesses. 

"It is odd." Vitani began, although she paused, seemingly unsure of what words to pick. "Lions... Everything dies, all the time. I just." she felt an odd sensation in her chest, and with a bit of effort, she fought the tightness away and swallowed the feeling with a quiet grunt. "I guess I never realized that father could die." Though she hadn't realized it, Vitani had unsheathed her claws, and were quietly digging into the smooth stone under her feet as she felt a more familiar feeling bubble up in her chest-- Anger. Anger that grew as she once again took in the scene of grief around her. It was an uncomfortable anger-- Vitani had always felt so aloof among her pride. She'd never imagined losing any of them, and so she had never considered what it might be like to be grieving for one of them. What was she supposed to do now? Sit here and watch her mother be consumed with the loss? The feeling of helplessness and prospect of vulnerability made the short mane along her neck rise. 

"We should be out there. Finding and tearing the pelt off of whoever did this." she spoke again, her voice still quiet, but rasping with frustration. "We should be making sure that we never have to worry about losing anyone else."