Falls

“You’re angry.”

Sabor had been standing so still with eyes closed, had purposefully kept her breathing measured, so as not to disturb her youngest, fast asleep beside her. Little did she realise, Azaad had woken up some time before her, and had been playing this game of pretend all along, just to give her a bit of time and space to work out what she was going to do about Vitani and Kovu.

It had been a little disconcerting for him to wake up to so much quietness and empty space.

“How perceptive of you, dear one,” the golden mare purred in greeting, bestowing a rare touch of affection upon one spotted cheek. She did not try to deny it - those blue eyes were clever, and they did not miss much. Listless, her body stiff from standing in one place so long, Sabor spurred the colt into movement, certain that, despite the snow that blanketed the ground beyond the shelter of the trees, they would soon warm up, if they kept moving.

“Are we going to look for them?” The question was asked quietly, though in his hidden heart, Azaad already knew how his mother would answer.

Sabor shook her head in dismissal. “I won’t risk losing you to the bitter sea.” But there was worry in her voice, still, fear for her eldest son, who’s wild and fierce spirit Sabor loved more than anything. She worried for Vitani too, but for such a long time now, Vitani had been such a support to her. The young red mare had never really been a child, and though sometimes in the dead of night, Sabor would keep herself awake thinking about how much she regretted that - that her daughter was too much like her, but in the end, she always soothed her own worries with this reassurance: even if she could, Sabor wouldn’t change anything about how she’d raised Vitani. It had made her daughter strong, and she knew that, wherever life took the red girl, she’d be more than capable of holding her own.

They were survivors, after all.

“Vitani will find Kovu.” No hint of doubt in her, such was the faith she had in her girl. With grace in every movement, the slender golden mare led the white-speckled colt beside her across the Meadow, towards the denser woodland that surrounded the Falls. She knew these trails by heart, and even Azaad knew how to navigate these lands with ease, for the amount of times they’d come here. “And then she will come and find us.”

These words took Azaad by surprise. Not just the words, but the steeliness threaded through them. “We’re not going to stay here this time.” It was not a question.

“I am tired of the cold, Azaad,” Sabor replied. “Tired of the waiting.” She paused in her brisk pace to twist her head around and scrutinise the boy beside her. “You will come to know the sands of Salem as well as you do the Meadow and the Falls.” It was, after all, his birthright. Vitani and Kovu’s too.

“Do you think we’ll find him there?” The question was asked so quietly, any other might have worried that Sabor hadn’t heard it. But even as the desert mare resumed her lengthy stride, and Azaad trotted along beside her, despite the drawn out silence, the colt knew that his mother hadn’t missed a thing. She never did. In the end, he sought to draw her out, by answering his own question in a roundabout way. “You hate him.”

They stopped, then huddled together in the undergrowth near the sluggish Falls. Well away from the icy spray, making little attempt to hide from any who were brave enough to roam the rugged lands of the Crossing in winter, Sabor stood with head held high, gleaming gold amongst the wintry pines. She was watching and waiting for something, but for what, exactly, the boy beside her couldn’t be sure. She spoke only once more, before inviting silence to blanket them. “I love him too, Azaad, never forget that.”