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Description

The loss of Soji broke something in both me and N’dugu. For me, losing another sibling left a vacant hole in me, especially since there were no other cheetah in this new land to fill it. After Kana died, Soji became more protective of me and we built a bond on both mutual suffering and a strong desire to live. He made me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry. With him, I could still pretend to be a cub, protected and loved.

For N’dugu, Soji’s loss was so much more. N’dugu held himself responsible because he felt that it was his duty to not only protect his siblings but the entire cheetah species. Soji’s death was the ultimate failure for him. If he couldn’t protect his own siblings, how was he going to protect the rest of the cheetah in Africa? He withdrew into himself and rarely spoke unless absolutely necessary. With just the two of us, he took his vigil over me to suffocating levels.

One night, just a few days after Soji’s death, I started awake from a nightmare. N’dugu sat next to me staring off into nothing. At first, I thought I had woken him, only to realize he had never slept. During the day, he stayed close to me and wouldn’t let me leave his sight. When we hunted, he let me eat first while he kept watch. Without Soji, we needed to hunt smaller prey who were faster than the larger antelope. I could hear his stomach grumble as I fed and I ate quickly so that he could before the scavengers came.

While I appreciated his presence, his protectiveness began to chafe against my desire for freedom. Still, I understood and respected his need to see to my safety. Because of this, I endured it all with tried patience. However, the silence was not something I could live with. Throughout my whole life, all four summer’s worth, I had been surrounded by the playful banter of my siblings. As time went on, and I lost one after another, the banter turned more serious, but there was always someone to talk to, always someone to pour my insecurities out to. Even N’dugu was open to conversation when we were together. But after Soji’s death, he wouldn’t speak to me.

I tried once to talk to him, to relieve some of the pain burdening me but he didn’t seem to pay attention at all. So wrapped up in his own pain, he failed to see how much I needed him. With no one else to talk to, my pain and anger festered within me until one day, it exploded.

N’dugu once again sat staring off into nothing, his back ramrod straight in front of me. It was mid-day and sweltering but it didn’t seem to phase him at all. I watched him in all of his magnificent glory. In another time, I would have appreciated his beauty, the glistening silkiness of his fur and obsidian markings so different from mine. On this day, however, I was furious. Not so much with him. Just angry in general.

“Brother, would you please talk to me?” I pleaded. My only answer was the rustle of wind through the trees. “I can not stand the silence any longer.” Still he did not move.

Without another word, I rose to my feet and started walking away. Even without looking back, I knew he followed. My anger exploded out of me and I turned on him, snarling and swiping a paw at his face. Startled, he jumped back. A single chirp left his throat and that tiny response set me off again. After all we’d been through, the only thing he could give me was a single, pitiful chirp! I lunged for him and threw him to the ground, despite his much bigger size. I pounded away at him, raking my claws across that silky fur and vulnerable underbelly. He did not fight back and after a few minutes, I realized why. He wanted to be punished for his failure and he felt that my anger was justified. I immediately stopped and jumped back.

Chagrined, I lowered my ears. “I’m sorry, brother. I did not mean to take my anger out on you.”

He rolled onto his belly and stared at me.

When it became obvious he wouldn’t respond, I continued. “I’m going off on my own. It is passed time I did so and staying together isn’t healthy for either one of us.”

This seemed to get his attention and he rose to his feet. “Please don’t go,” he said, sadness filling his eyes. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“N’dugu, we are cheetah, not lions. The way we have been living, the way this place has forced us to live, is not natural. We are solitary creatures. I have been fighting this for too long and I’m tired.”

He whimpered and lowered his head. I knew what he was thinking. Male cheetah, brothers, often stayed together for life but with the loss of Soji, N’dugu was well and truly alone. Looking at him, he looked like the lost cub from our youth.

“We are still siblings, N’dugu. It isn’t like we’ll never see one another again.”

“How am I supposed to save the cheetah all by myself? There is no one left here, save you and I.”

“Mother said it was prophesied that you would save the cheetah. That means something will happen to make that possible. Who knows what the future holds. I love you, brother, and I believe in you.”

I rubbed my head against his neck one last time. Whimpering, he returned the affection. Even though I was leaving him, I knew I would see him again.

“I love you, too, Sahara. Be safe out there.”

I pulled back and nodded. I was glad to see the spark of determination return to his eyes. With a flick of my tail, I turned and trotted off. My destination was southeast, back toward the lake. I knew the lions were there but it was also the best place to find impala, the only prey I could really hunt on my own. Besides, it was where my instinct led me.

Description

The loss of Soji broke something in both me and N’dugu. For me, losing another sibling left a vacant hole in me, especially since there were no other cheetah in this new land to fill it. After Kana died, Soji became more protective of me and we built a bond on both mutual suffering and a strong desire to live. He made me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry. With him, I could still pretend to be a cub, protected and loved.

For N’dugu, Soji’s loss was so much more. N’dugu held himself responsible because he felt that it was his duty to not only protect his siblings but the entire cheetah species. Soji’s death was the ultimate failure for him. If he couldn’t protect his own siblings, how was he going to protect the rest of the cheetah in Africa? He withdrew into himself and rarely spoke unless absolutely necessary. With just the two of us, he took his vigil over me to suffocating levels.

One night, just a few days after Soji’s death, I started awake from a nightmare. N’dugu sat next to me staring off into nothing. At first, I thought I had woken him, only to realize he had never slept. During the day, he stayed close to me and wouldn’t let me leave his sight. When we hunted, he let me eat first while he kept watch. Without Soji, we needed to hunt smaller prey who were faster than the larger antelope. I could hear his stomach grumble as I fed and I ate quickly so that he could before the scavengers came.

While I appreciated his presence, his protectiveness began to chafe against my desire for freedom. Still, I understood and respected his need to see to my safety. Because of this, I endured it all with tried patience. However, the silence was not something I could live with. Throughout my whole life, all four summer’s worth, I had been surrounded by the playful banter of my siblings. As time went on, and I lost one after another, the banter turned more serious, but there was always someone to talk to, always someone to pour my insecurities out to. Even N’dugu was open to conversation when we were together. But after Soji’s death, he wouldn’t speak to me.

I tried once to talk to him, to relieve some of the pain burdening me but he didn’t seem to pay attention at all. So wrapped up in his own pain, he failed to see how much I needed him. With no one else to talk to, my pain and anger festered within me until one day, it exploded.

N’dugu once again sat staring off into nothing, his back ramrod straight in front of me. It was mid-day and sweltering but it didn’t seem to phase him at all. I watched him in all of his magnificent glory. In another time, I would have appreciated his beauty, the glistening silkiness of his fur and obsidian markings so different from mine. On this day, however, I was furious. Not so much with him. Just angry in general.

“Brother, would you please talk to me?” I pleaded. My only answer was the rustle of wind through the trees. “I can not stand the silence any longer.” Still he did not move.

Without another word, I rose to my feet and started walking away. Even without looking back, I knew he followed. My anger exploded out of me and I turned on him, snarling and swiping a paw at his face. Startled, he jumped back. A single chirp left his throat and that tiny response set me off again. After all we’d been through, the only thing he could give me was a single, pitiful chirp! I lunged for him and threw him to the ground, despite his much bigger size. I pounded away at him, raking my claws across that silky fur and vulnerable underbelly. He did not fight back and after a few minutes, I realized why. He wanted to be punished for his failure and he felt that my anger was justified. I immediately stopped and jumped back.

Chagrined, I lowered my ears. “I’m sorry, brother. I did not mean to take my anger out on you.”

He rolled onto his belly and stared at me.

When it became obvious he wouldn’t respond, I continued. “I’m going off on my own. It is passed time I did so and staying together isn’t healthy for either one of us.”

This seemed to get his attention and he rose to his feet. “Please don’t go,” he said, sadness filling his eyes. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“N’dugu, we are cheetah, not lions. The way we have been living, the way this place has forced us to live, is not natural. We are solitary creatures. I have been fighting this for too long and I’m tired.”

He whimpered and lowered his head. I knew what he was thinking. Male cheetah, brothers, often stayed together for life but with the loss of Soji, N’dugu was well and truly alone. Looking at him, he looked like the lost cub from our youth.

“We are still siblings, N’dugu. It isn’t like we’ll never see one another again.”

“How am I supposed to save the cheetah all by myself? There is no one left here, save you and I.”

“Mother said it was prophesied that you would save the cheetah. That means something will happen to make that possible. Who knows what the future holds. I love you, brother, and I believe in you.”

I rubbed my head against his neck one last time. Whimpering, he returned the affection. Even though I was leaving him, I knew I would see him again.

“I love you, too, Sahara. Be safe out there.”

I pulled back and nodded. I was glad to see the spark of determination return to his eyes. With a flick of my tail, I turned and trotted off. My destination was southeast, back toward the lake. I knew the lions were there but it was also the best place to find impala, the only prey I could really hunt on my own. Besides, it was where my instinct led me.