Northern Transition Zone -- Savannah
This stretch of the savannah contains more cover than those sections farther south. Still a savannah biome, grasses, trees, shrubs of all varieties choke the wet ravines and gullies where they enjoy easy access to water year-round. Some of the tall grasses reach a height of three meters; where roots can reach the watertable, monstrous trees, creepers and shrubs flourish. Streams have cut numerous troughs through the surrounding countryside, providing for impressive bluffs and rocky cliffs from which to overlook the area.
The rise of the Basin's barrier can be found to the west, whereas the wooded cover gives way to fields of elephant grass further south.
Obvious exits:
Eastern Barrier Central Grassland Marsh Southwestern Grassland

Fireborn lazes under the shade of a boulder that sports an odd hat of a monstrous tree. Granted today is one of the cooler days in the African Congo, the cheetah still has no intentions of truly budging from such a luxuriously grass padded spot. He rolls onto his back, pawing at air for just a second or so in play with a butterfly that flutters by, before the insect has enough of the swiping pads and flits upwards into the tree's sprawling branches. The Swara remains on his back, having a National Geographic photo moment.

Kyphur Cat s exploring this afternoon, finding both travel and the marking of landmarks much easier in his feline form. The large tree that was on the horizon mecomes an easy one of these landmarks, and he heads towards it to keep his path easy to recall should he get turned around -- follow the dots, such that the are.

Fireborn purrs to himself in content, four paws sticking up and out like some spotted bush on the rocky landscape. Eventually he flops over and lies there, eyes half-lidded and almost inclined to take a nap. But when sharp ears pick up sounds of one approaching, his head comes up and he gazes in that direction of the tufted grasses.

Kyphur Cat comes out of the grass at a trot, slowing up to check out the larger hunting cat. He could hear the purring as he neared and isn't startled by the sight, but he is clearly relieved to see that it's a familiar beast. He rumbles out a greeting, though a rather small and higher pitched voice than any of the other cats on the savannah. Fireborn! Well-met.

Fireborn tilts an ear back, the side of his lip lifting in a primal smile as he rumbles back. The hunting goes well for the Keeper? Now even in the presence of another Bastet, the cheetah is much more relaxed, though there are still hints of formality in the feline's body language. Rolling up onto his belly, the cheetah begins to lick at a dusty paw while paying attention to the small black cat.

Kyphur Cat takes the question literally and responds, they toy with me. They cannot hear my approach, or smell my presence, but I think they see the grass move. I am not yet fast enough with that disadvantage. But I did not learn to read in a week, nor will I learn to hunt. Though the small black cat rarely seems to preen himself, he still appears clean and well kept.

Fireborn's own grooming is short and furious, quickly putting each tuft of fur it its rightful place. Satisfied with one limb, the cheetah pauses before starting on the other. My prey are not your prey. What is it that you hunt, Keeper? The cheetah's golden eyes look over smaller cat scrutinizingly, trying to find what flaws would keep the feline from success. Size might be one...but there are plenty of smaller animals around the savannah.

What ever beasts stop to drink. The horned beast, water fowl. Whatever I spot. Not so much worried about a kill. Laying a paw on one, would be success enough. I don't know what my ancestors may have hunted. Small mammals, I suspect. The cat paces a bit, slightly frusterated but not overly dissapointed.

Fireborn looks amused at the idea of the black one chasing an impala. Darkness is a slowly creeping creature, that falls quickly upon the unwary, says the Swara with a short sniff. At night is when darkness is strongest, preying upon the small creatures which venture out thinking they will be safe from the eyes of the hunters. It is unlike the Fire, which runs swift on the wind and takes down any in its path. Fireborn levels a gaze at the cat, to see if he understood his riddling.

Yes. The coat of darkenss dissapears from sight under the moon, used for protection in the past, but... the cat cocks his head and seems to come to some decision. Thank you, Fireborn, for your advice. The Cat noses towards the sky, the moon will be crescent this evening. The lions will expect me.

Fireborn flickers an ear, pleased that the cat understands. His gaze flows skywards a moment but doesn't stay there long. The sky holds no prey for the Swara. What do the self-roared kings wish of darkness? The Swara's curiosity is not hidden by much, as a tongue flicks out to lick the side of his muzzle.

I know only what the darkenss wish of the kings. The black cat doesn't seem to have much to say on that subject, so he changes it to something he is curious himself about. There is a water serpent among the trees which always cast darkness, just as dangerous as any viper. What creatures venture near that?

Fireborn looks curious, the cheetah gauging what response would deem him a bit more knowledgeable though he does not precisely know what the cat means. By which serpent do you mean? The ones that choke their prey the way the vines strangle the jungle trees?

Kyphur Cat explains, if not explicitly -- that's the problem with using a human allusion in a feline language, he supposes -- The one that chokes it's prey with water, and flows towards the sea. It carries many poisons, not all of them obvious. I will go explore some day, but do not favor mental blindness.

Fireborn's concern at mention of poisons grows, the cheetah's natural protectiveness of the land coming to the fore. The river is the largest black serpent that this one knows. Is that the one you speak of?

Kyphur Cat nods once, a peculiar action by a cat but one that's second nature for Naeem. Yes, the Nile give life to the land, and the people around it but it also conceals dangers unknown to most. So it is with this one as well.

Fireborn rolls a low growl though it is not by any means aimed at the cat. The river is both a part of the land, and a destroyer of it. Seasons circle around it when it swells and dries. Every creature in this savannah must depend on it in one way or another. What is your interest in the great water snake?

What it conceals. Are there peoples there, that more directly rely on it's sustanance? I would be very interested in thier stories. The cats tail slashes the air expectantly.

Tempts-Fate is actually hunting, the plentiful water in the area providing ideal breeding conditions for mice. The jackal is paying absolutly no attention to the cats, if she has noticed them at all. She is within Fireborn's line of sight, if a good hundred meters away, when she launches herself out of the conceiling grasses and into the air. Coming back down with her front paws well infront of her, as she attempts to pin the mouse. The action is repeated three times in quick sucession, before the mouse is caught and bolted down.

Fireborn swivels his ears forward as the jackal pounces on her meal. Still his attentions are based mostly on the small cat in front of him. There are apes of all kinds that wish to journey in the jungle. The Fire also knows of the evil that is within, lurking through the shadows. However, the fire burns brighter over the savannah, not in the drenched soils of the forests. You would do best to find and ask the spotted walkers among those leaves. They are often high up, amongst the clouds.

Kyphur Cat checks his shoulder as the cheeta's attention is momentarily diverted, catching the tail end of the pounce, his ears leading his eyes. I ... He turns back, then I will need to attract the lightning. Men are only useful if they live there. The europeans are ignorant.

Fireborn follows the pouncing easily, though he doesn't look particularly excited. It's a different kind of chase that he runs. The Swara's ears flicker, shooing away the ever constant buzzing insects that plague the savannah's animals. There is one, a walker amongst the leaves that particularly visits the grasslands. He waits for the smoke from the fire, to see what news comes on the wind. Perhaps, when I meet him, I will speak of you? The cheetah's rising intonation queries the way a messenger would ask for his mission.

Tempts-Fate catches yet another mouse and bolts it down, before wind breifly changes direction. Bring her the scents of the two cats. Her hunting stops and she moves toward the two bastet, the parting grasses marking her position.

Kyphur Cat shakes his head in a dismissive flinch suddenly to shoo one of the insects that got too close to his face. I only seek contact, and perhaps a chance to swap stories. The sound in the grass attracts his attention agian, and he moves more to face the approach, backing up slightly.

Fireborn sniffs in regard to the cat's intentions of story-swapping. The parting grasses that make way for the jackal get his more short term attention, as he lets out a low chirp of greetings. A shortly mischievious light glints in his eyes, having remembered the short chase of last night.

Tempts-Fate's head appears first, one of her overly-large ears laying back and she studies the two cats. The rest of her small body slips free from the covering grasses, before she takes a seat infront of the two felines. She emits a short bark.

Kyphur Cat watches for a moment, then glances to the larger cat who seems to know the other creature. His ears stay on the jackel, though, while he inquires, the one from last evening?

Fireborn returns the short bark, though his is much more feline in tone. A quick dip of his head greets the jackal. Good hunting, blackback. One cannot be for certain, Keeper, the cheetah purrs at the other feline. The senses of apes are strange in that way.

Tempts-Fate yawns, ears laying back as her tongue curls. The jackal's form shifts and changes, revealing a berber woman in her native clothing. "Hello," she offers in french, before turning to the black cat. 'What are one of the children of Bast, doing this far south?' She asks, switching to Arabic.

Kyphur Cat's ears fold back warily at the change, not expecting it -- though the new form is somewhat familiar. At least the clothing is, the woman was more primative looking last time. FOr teh moment he remains uncertain, understanding the words but not sure about what his responce should be. He glances to the cheeta agian delaying a responce a bit to think, now do you know her?

Fireborn indicates that he does, rising to sit on his haunches and stubbornly declining the urge to shift for communication's sake. To Keeper he licks at his nose. She speaks with your tongue. It is easier to talk in your birth form. And perhaps, the darkness can speak for the fire. The jackal-lady gets a long stare, examination behind the golden orbs set in his sleek head.

Daia fixes the black cat with a look, waiting for any answer. In one form, or another. 'I already know who you are,' she offers helpfully. 'Your scent is the same, on two leggs or four.'

Scribe-of-Tahuti considers the cheeta a moment, ears swivling as the woman speaks. After a moment, his form shifts, growing much larger and more human. He remains crouched down and his words, thought not as flowing as if he were in homid, but still practiced and clear. 'It was time to look forward,' is his initial responce.

Fireborn rumbles a couple of coughs and glances at the two now shifted. Only he remains in his birthform, keeping watch over the savannah. It's close enough to town that there is a faint possibility of some human stumbling upon them, and still far enough to allow for some leisure.

'And what are you looking toward?' The jackal woman asks.

Naeem doesn't have a direct responce to the question, but does say, 'It is our responsibility to record the history of the future. To create it as well. There is oppertunity for bother here.'

Fireborn doesn't understand the conversation, but the interaction between the two is interesting in itself. He turns to lick the fur over his shoulder, an ear kept on the pair. Lucky human languages are almost all verbal.

Daia snorts, the corners of her mouth turning up in an amused grin. 'Your kind has always spoken in riddles, if only to sound as if you know what you are talking about.'

Naeem shrugs slightly, 'We enjoy our privacy. Allow my to illustrate, though." He shifts a bit, "The peoples of Egypt are ancient. Almost as ancient as mine. Still, the Latin, then the Turkish, then the French and now the English dominate the land and the people. They seek the food, and they seek the knowledge. Now they move farther south with different but perhaps similar goals. The past comes to life here.'

Fireborn contents himself with reading the postures of the cat and dog. This was, after all, his original lazing spot and he isn't moving anywhere fast. Yet. A slow look at Daia indicates that he also wonders what the jackal is so curious of the cats for.

Daia bristles slightly at Naeem's words. 'I know perfectly well how old Egypt is. It has been the home of my people for more generations then can be counted, even if it has recently become lost to us.' The jackal-woman narrows her eyes. 'We have kept our histories and traditions, regardless of which two-legs are currently living there. Are you here to keep the white-two legs from these lands as long as possible, or merely to watch them spread across the land like a disease?'

Naeem shrugs slightly, 'It depends on if there is something I can do, and and oppertunity. I am no warrior. I am only a scholar, and educated man.'

Fireborn, after a moment's whim, slides up into a comfortable near-man form. It has been awhile since he took this gracefully lean figure. While he is still sitting upon the dirt, his hand comes up to scratch at a spot on his neck. The advantages of long, flexible limbs...

Daia grunts, looking less then pleased with Naeem's answer. 'We are all Gaia's children and it is our duty to protect the Mother, in our own ways.' She looks at Azi and smiles. "Joining us, yes?" She offers, in bad French.

Azi gives the woman a curt nod, still scratching. "Oui," he answers in a much more practiced but still accented French. Then he stands up to meet up at a relative eye level with the others. "What happens with the changers of your kind?" The question levels at Daia, obviously, and the intent behind it a simple informative dig.

Naeem glances back over to Azi briefly, "That is my point." Then falls silent as Azi asks an important question. He has his own answer, but would like to hear what the woman has to say on the matter.

Daia scowls, a low growls begining in the back of her throat. "My people are well good, but there are not enough of us. Too many outsiders."

Azi nods simply at the jackal-lady's response. "Outsiders. And it seems there will be more. What will your kind do though, about them?" An eyebrow slightly offcolor with a golden tinge, arches upwards in question.

Daia bares her teeth in fustration. "We try to keep them in one place. Distroy the taint that seems to follow them.

Naeem nods to himself, seems a good enough plan in the abstract. "The European's are almost nothing without the structure to support themsleves. Egypt, unfortuantly, had that support already. This place does not. If you want to weaken them, it should not be a difficult endever, if you know where to look."

Daia tilts her head to one side, as she studies Naeem. "Not know two-legs that well. Makes some things harder."

"Some of the north dogs wish to join with the cats, in hopes of cleansing the land from taint." Azi purrs this out, with humor in his tone if not a little skepticism. "Little they realize they encourage it." With that, his darkened eyes narrow slightly. "Still. To know your prey... you must watch it. Carefully." He subsequently inclines a gaze at Daia, expecting her to know on a more basic level what he means.

Daia grumbles to herself. "They think they are bigger then they are. Their Alpha tries to tell my people what to do. Says that these lands have never been claimed and that they belong to him now."

Naeem smiles slightly, the enlargened incisors becoming more apparent, though it vanishes at the mentioning of an 'Alpha'. "Then there are more. That is unfortuante news." He doesn't say more, just yet, to the jackel woman. Though it's clear he has more thoughts on the matter. Who wouldn't?

Indeed there are quite a few more, at least to Azi's knowledge there are. "I do not know the ways of your kinds. But lands and who hunts upon them, I understand." The feral glints in the Swara's eyes are obvious in this form. "Just as lions would steal kills, and claim to be great hunters... so do they." He snorts, a little bit of scorn falling in the words regarding the big cats.

Daia grunts. "I have formed a pack. We claim the lands around the two-leg place. Keep the outside non-jackal's from spreading."

"The lions are a hefty hammer, if motivated," Naeem observes. "Cut the cord to the water, and thoes here will flounder."

Azi tilts his head at Naeem. "You tie with the river is strong, it seems." He glances between the two chatting companions. "If there is a way to stop the river from flowing, then you would be powerful." There's a slight pause. "And dangerous."

Daia adjusts her robes, as she settles down in a more comfortable position. "Boats go up and down river. Stop those? Carry grey-giant tusks and other things."

Naeem nods to Daia, "Europeans want material wealth. They take the good of the lan, and sell it. They do not start, but they would starve my people. I don't know what they value here, but take that away and you take away thier reason. In my land, to take that away is to doom our people. We cannot take away our sustanance."

Naeem adds, "It was a monetary debt that invivted the outsiders in, in my lang. Now they fight over it. That will change in time, but not today. The leaders of my people are not prepared for it yet. We will be."

Azi does not quite understand the meaning of material wealth, but he knows that the Europeans do value property. "They must lack much, to come here to find it. Still others think nothing of the land, and only wish to capture the spirits of it." He growls, the low rumble rising and falling with a breath. "If the dogs of the north think they can do that, they are mistaken. And Fire will make sure that all is burned out of the wound."

"I do not know what they want," Daia grumbles. "They say they come to fight taint, but they bring it." The jackal-woman sighs.

Naeem nods a bit, "I do not know how much you know of thier ways. Forgive me if I speak obviously. It is called trade. I haev looked, and they are dependant on the outside for food and other supplies. To get that, they must have something to trade. It is a loop. In the end though, it doesn't matter which portion of that loop you cut; it will all unravel just the same. Remove the goods they desire, prevent thier transfer out, prevent the transfer in..." He smiles slightly, micheviously, "Or remove thier support already gained."

Daia mmms. "I will think on this." With that, the jackal woman turns into a jackal and leaves.

Naeem glances to Azi, "Unfortuantly, that is my support as well. For a few nights more, at least."

Azi takes in the information with a slow, deliberate nod as if the gesture itself would help tilt in what more knowledge he could gain from the Bubasti. "I have heard of it. But you cannot remove the grey ones else you lose the knowledge they have. You cannot hope to hide the shine of the sun's metal in the rock. You can only stop the apes from trying." The Swara's jaw tightens at that, and then he turns to the savannah. "Good Hunting, jackal." Then to Naeem, he dips his head. "It is time for this one to be running once more as well. I will think of what you said. Perhaps it is with the lions help, that the destruction can be stopped. You would do well to meet the one who truly claims these lands as his." Then, in a more esoteric language of the cat-shifters he adds, *Once a new Taghairm is roared, you will hear. And we will see if you can be groomed into the circle of Mvwala.*