following in your footsteps [zen]

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[atrb=background,http://i41.tinypic.com/30iyl1z.jpg,true] Takes place: after the church thread with Denim, Neb, Natiri and Alex & after Alex has become leader of Iris Denim had been meaning to do it for several weeks, but he'd just been caught up with Natiri and Take. Things had been fairly muddled and he was still healing from Alex's scars. Not long after he had fought with his elder brother, Panja had willingly stepped down from his leadership in Iris. It had been worrying to say the least. Not only had Panja left the Iris Pride, but now the insane Alexander was the leader. His spine twitched at the thought. Alex was possibly as bad as Florence. Sighing, Denim continued along the path. It was word of mouth that he had heard Panja was now living in the bay. He could now easily trace his strong scent, mingled with the salty breeze. It wasn't a bad place to reside in your final years. Denim was being cautious. He had only seen a glimpse of Panja's passionate side at the meeting, and he was unsure as to what his father was like now. His paws pressed into the sand as he made his way down the coast. What would he find there? His father sulking? His father keeping away all strangers? His father greeting him with open arms? Denim highly doubted the latter. Denim had been the one to leave the Pride without even saying goodbye. He had barely even spoken to his father. When he had been a cub, Panja had been busy doing his job and focusing on getting his other cubs back. He also vividly remembered the white lion moping in the alleyways before Florence had kicked some sense into him. He let out an audible sigh. What would Panja think of him now? A waste of space, or perhaps they could give it a second chance? Denim's curiosity was getting the better of him and he began to pick up pace as he ventured closer to the cave. His paws dipped into the cold, icy water as he began a light jog. Several minutes later, Denim arrived. The aroma of his father was strong. The cat that had told him of Panja's whereabouts had not lied. Feeling strangely at home, Denim briefly called out Panja's name as he entered the small cave. His voice echoed around the words and rebounded towards him. Looking over his shoulder, Denim saw the pawprints of another lion in the sand. Panja. Excitement but wariness bubbled up inside of him. He didn't know whether Panja just wanted to be left alone now. From what Denim gathered, Alex had bullied his father off the throne. Now Panja just wanted to peace. He wondered whether anyone else visited the old white lion in his retired spot. It was almost sad, that Panja was now alone. Alex and Nebula would never visit him, his mate was dead, and what other friends did he have? Florence's other litter were most likely not interested - apart from perhaps Aiyana, but he had no idea where she was or whether she was still alive. He had been fond of her once, but since their initial meeting they had not crossed paths again. Denim gazed into the deep, black cave. It was cooler than outside in the summer heat. Shivering slightly, Denim squinted, looking to see if his father really was in here, or whether he had moved on.

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[Zen]

It had been awhile since he had abandoned Iris to live out the rest of his days in solitude, but Panja still hadn’t gotten used to the feeling of living alone. Perhaps if he had some regular visitors the isolation wouldn’t have seemed so bad. In fact, there were times when he was almost praying for some company. But so far, the only one to come spend time with him out here had been Kira, and it hadn’t been for more than a few minutes. The loneliness was killing him, slowly sucking the energy and life out of him, and most of the time all he did was lay in his cave or out by the beach and think about everything that had transpired in the past months.

The day Alex had barged into the slaughterhouse and demanded he step down from his position as Iris’ leader was still freshest in his mind, constantly hanging over him like a dark shadow. When he thought of the fury that had burned in his son’s eyes and the hatred that laced his words, Panja felt sick. How had it come to this? He and his cubs had once been so happy together. They had been a real family and they had loved one another. And when he had heard about the fight that had taken place between his three children, he had almost wanted to cry. Sure, perhaps in their childhood the cubs never got along perfectly all the time, but when did they start hating each other so much, to the point where they tried to kill one another? Panja couldn’t help feeling he was somehow the cause of it. He wanted to help them, he wanted to make up for the fact that he hadn’t been there for them when they were young. But what could he possibly do now? It was too late to change anything.

The sound of his own name echoing off the cavern walls jolted Panja out of his thoughts. He lifted his head, squinting at the mouth of the cave to see who had entered, and felt his jaw drop in surprise. “Denim?” he gasped softly, rising from his position on the ground to walk over to where his son stood. His tired eyes looked the young lion up and down several times, making sure he was real and not just another figment of his foggy old mind. Many times he would have vivid dreams of his family and would wake up calling their names and looking around everywhere for them, only to be crushed seconds later by a wave of disappointment when he realized that it had all been his imagination.

But no, this was really Denim. Panja was overcome with the sudden urge to put his paw around his son’s shoulder and hold him, but thought better of it. His children hated him, he reminded himself - at least Alexander did, and most likely Nebula did too. And Denim? He wasn’t entirely sure, but something inside him told Panja his younger son probably did not think too highly of him at the very least. Who could blame him, really. Panja knew he was a failure of a father...he had no right to expect his children to respect him. He stood back a bit and gazed at Denim sadly, his heart heavy. “Son, what are you doing here?”

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[atrb=background,http://i41.tinypic.com/30iyl1z.jpg,true] Denim squinted into the darkness and suddenly saw movement from within. Father. His name was uttered before the old, withered lion approached him. Denim was staggered at just how much his father had changed. Within just a few months, it appeared that Panja had aged many years. His eyes looked old and tired, his body looked as though it constantly ached with the world resting on his shoulders. How did it feel to suddenly be outcast from the Pride that had been his home? Yes, it had been Panja's decision, but that didn't stop the poor lion from suddenly feeling very alone. Denim could see the glimmer of hope in his dull, grey eyes. It became clear that Panja rarely had visitors, if at all. He had not gained any friends when he had tried to bargain peace with Brooke. It was an understandable decision. The old animals had had enough. Panja had seen enough bloodshed for a lifetime. He had lost his mate, his son, and many comrades in battle. Someone like Alex had not witnessed such loss. Denim reckoned, in the end, even Florence regretted many of her decisions. Once Panja was standing in front of him, Denim approached his father and brushed muzzles against him. The familiar scent warmed something deep inside of him and he closed his eyes. A few seconds later, Denim pulled back and listened to his father's question. He wasn't sure how to reply. What was he doing here? To get their father-son relationship back? He highly doubted they would be able to make up for the lost years of his cubhood. Panja had never been there for him. He had never really had any sort of relationship with his father. As soon as his siblings had been taken by the Tempest, Panja had kept his distance. When Denim had needed his parents, they had both been too busy grieving their cubs. Sitting down, Denim chewed over the words he aimed to say. Curiosity. That was what he was doing here. Panja had suddenly upped and left and he wanted to find out why he had suddenly changed his morals. Before Florence had died, he had been set out to kill all canines. Now? He was a doglover. Just like Denim. "Why did you change?" The young lion finally asked, listening to the rhythmic motion of the waves. It was a good, sleepy location for Panja. He could imagine the waves lulling him to sleep every night. Denim was digressing. He was here to find out the truth about Panja. Since Florence had died, he had changed dramatically. What was this other side of his father that no one had ever seen before? Had it been his mother? Had she twisted his mind into hatred and vengeance? Denim wondered whether Panja even missed Florence or whether he was happy she was dead. Her death had freed him. Besides, her death had brought about the rescue of two of his cubs. Although Denim had rather they had died in the Tempest Pack. Surprised by his bitterness, he shook himself. How could he wish death of his two siblings? He vaguely wondered whether Orbit would have turned out like Alex, or like Nebula. He decided it was probably best not to ever know. "What possessed you to ask for peace at the meeting? Who was that wolf?" He vividly remembered the white wolf at the meeting, who seemed extremely familiar with his presence. Had Panja been secretly meeting with canines? It was as though Panja was doing the exact same thing Denim had been doing when he'd been a cub. He had been secretly meeting with Natiri ever since he was only a few months old. Denim wondered whether the wolf had been the one to teach Panja of canines. They were not all that different from felines after all. He gazed at his father questioningly.

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[Zen]

Panja nodded solemnly. “I figured you had come to ask me about that.” He gestured to a spot beside him on the sandy floor and sighed. “Sit down, we’ve got a lot to talk about.” His long legs stretched themselves out into a comfortable position as he sank to the ground, silent for a minute or so while he gathered his thoughts. Where to even begin? “I can’t really give you a solid answer to that question,” he finally said, gazing at Denim. “There were a lot of reasons. For one, I was sick of fighting, just the very idea of fighting. Of waking up every day and wondering if it would be my last. I’m old now and my body isn’t what it used to be; I knew I would not be able to survive another large scale battle with the Tempest Pack, if we were to have one. And how could I continue to want to be involved in this war when the last battle I fought resulted in the deaths of Florence and Orbit, and the capturing of my other two cubs? Not to mention the countless friends and allies I lost that day. No, I simply couldn’t stand it any longer.”

“But mostly, I wanted to protect you and your siblings from the war as much as I could. If another one of you was to be captured or die in battle...I don’t want to consider it.” He shook his head, looking away from his son to stare blankly at the cave wall. His voice dropped to a near whisper as he added, “I know asking you to believe this is asking a lot considering how little I’ve been involved in your lives, but you cubs are my pride and joy. You’re everything to me. Orbit’s death crushed me...a piece of my soul died the day he did. I think, more than anything, that is what changed me. That was what made me open my eyes to how terrible this war is. Nothing good can come from it, only more innocent lives lost.” Panja closed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the painful memories, but he couldn’t help remembering the frozen face of his dead son when the Tempest dogs had brought him back.

He forced himself to turn back to Denim and continue, despite how much he was falling apart inside. “As for that wolf, she’s just a friend. Her name is Rikki. She was once a captive of the Iris Pride, and...Denim, there are many things I’ve done in the past that I can’t bear to speak or even think about now. But despite all that, she somehow managed to forgive me. I suppose that’s another reason I’ve changed my views.” Panja let out a shaky breath, hugging his paws close to his chest. “So, in the end, I decided it was either make peace with Tempest or leave Iris altogether. And here I am.” He smiled weakly. There were some questions he had for Denim too, but they could wait. He said nothing more as he leaned back and allowed his son to digest everything he'd just told him.

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[atrb=background,http://i41.tinypic.com/30iyl1z.jpg,true] Denim quietly did as he was told, and sat down on the spot next to his father. Panja's warmth radiated around him, making the lion relax ever so slightly. Sighing, he breathed in the familiar scent and listened to his father's words as they both looked out across the ocean. Denim had been lucky to have never been in a proper battle. The thought of so many deaths scared him. A true soldier should look into the face of death with no fear. Not Denim. He had never understood it, even before he had met Natiri. He wished that battle had never happened. The whole of Hexasol had lost so much. No one knew the exact death count, but everyone knew of somebody they had lost on that fateful day. People claimed it to be the largest battle Hexasol had ever seen, yet others argued that there had been far larger battles. Denim was just glad he had not been alive to witness such horrors. Denim believed his father. The sadness in his voice was true. But there were still so many questions Denim had never had a chance to ask Panja. However, the younger lion stayed silent. He wanted to listen to everything Panja had to say before he asked him anymore questions. So, he continued to listen. It was clear that Orbit's death had had a huge impact on the white lion. It had been a terrible day for everyone. He could barely even remember what Orbit looked like anymore. He couldn't remember anything about him. It scared Denim that for such a huge family member, he hadn't a single memory of him. Admittedly, they'd been young. Denim was such a small cub when his siblings had been taken. Besides, Alex had always been the boisterous, memorably one. Orbit was the quieter, more reserved cub, a little like Denim. He wondered how that would've changed, had he been alive now. It was then that Panja spoke of the wolf, Rikki. She had been a slave of the Iris. He couldn't even begin to understand how she had forgiven Panja for all the terrible things he had done to her. Denim had heard horror stories of what happened in the Iris Pride. He had even witnessed it for himself a few times. Denim remembered the first time he had accidentally walked in on a torture in the Slaughterhouse. Horrified, Denim had run straight back out, throwing up his guts. He had felt sick to the core. He had tried to rescue some prisoners, but it had ended in death. Denim shuddered. Finally, silence dawned and Denim gazed into his father's old, grey eyes. "You did some terrible things, and I cannot forgive you for that," He began regretfully, "I don't even know how I feel about you right now. You have blood on your paws. Too much blood to wash off. You blindly listened to Florence until the day she died. What possessed you to think that anything she did was a good idea? What possessed you to even fall in love with her?" Denim took a deep breath. He wasn't here to lecture his father. Panja made mistakes. Terrible mistakes, but mistakes nevertheless, "You should've demolished the Iris whilst you still can. Now yet another insane lion is on the throne, and he's never going to stop, father. He is hellbent on killing as many dogs as possible." The hatred in Alex's eyes was frightening. He wanted his big brother back.

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[Zen]

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[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/2zojkf8.jpg] Panja’s expression turned grim. Denim was refusing to forgive him. He didn’t understand how Rikki, the one he had actually tortured, had found a way to forgive him, but not his own son. He knew it was asking a lot - in fact, only recently had he been able to forgive his own self for his actions. But he had finally learned to move past his guilt and looked forward to what was ahead of him instead of dwelling on his regrets. Couldn’t Denim do the same? “Believe me, if I could erase my past and wash the blood from my paws, I would do it, Denim. But I can’t. However, I am not the lion I was back then, and it's always been my view that your actions in the present decide who you are as a person, not what you have done in the past. People change, son, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. You are going to need to accept that and learn to look beyond whatever sins they’ve committed and see them for who they are now, especially if there is ever to be hope for peace between the two species. But if you still cannot forgive me...well, I can’t force you to do so.” When Denim questioned him about Florence, Panja shifted uncomfortably. He almost didn’t want to answer, didn't feel he needed to answer since it was a rather personal question. Yet the words tumbled from his mouth anyway. “My feelings on this war were obviously much different back then. I was raised by humans and sheltered for most of my life, and coming to this city and seeing the fighting was a shock to me. I didn't understand it and I was confused. Based on what other cats told me, I came to the belief that all dogs should be slaughtered, so I killed them. I formed a simple, very narrow view of the world that told me canines were weak and felines were strong, and that only the strong deserve to live. Then I met your mother, someone who shared these same beliefs, and I felt as if I'd found a new purpose in life with her and the Iris Pride. I didn’t choose to fall in love with her, Denim, it just happened. Do you know what that sort of love feels like? How it can grab hold of your heart so tightly until the only thing that matters is being with and pleasing that one person? It's true, I would have done anything for your mother. Of course, that was until she died and I got a chance to actually get to know a canine, and I finally realized how brainwashed by violence and blind hatred I was. I’m sure you can understand that.” He knew Denim was good friends with at least one dog. If it had been up to him and Florence, all of their cubs would have grown up to become warriors or leaders of the Iris Pride, but somewhere along that line Denim had shifted off course and managed to find compassion for canines. How had that happened? His son hadn’t been born with the view that dogs deserved mercy, he must have learned it sometime when he was a small cub. Someone must have shown him. Panja looked at Denim closely, hoping he would see that they had this one thing in common. “Me demolish Iris?” he laughed sadly. “Perhaps I would have if I could, but I’m an old lion with barely enough strength in my body to hunt for myself. The Iris Pride is weaker now than it once was, there’s no denying that, but it would have been impossible for me to stand a chance at destroying a Pride of so many strong, intelligent felines on my own. In fact, I’m very surprised no one had ever attempted to murder me and seize the throne by force while I was in power. It would have been very easy for them to do so.” Panja frowned, pulling his head back. He wondered if Denim was really accusing him of allowing Alexander to steal the throne. The honest truth was that he wanted his oldest cub in power just as much as Denim did, but there had been no swaying Alex that day, and Panja felt as if he hadn’t had a choice but to give up the crown. Maybe there was more he could have done to protect his leadership, but the failure of his peace treaty had caused him to lose most of his faith in himself, and he hadn't had the motivation to fight back against Alex. “I did my best to make a peace offering with Tempest, and that is still not enough for you?” Panja asked wearily. There was no real anger or accusation in his voice, just a heavy tiredness. He sighed, “You expect so much of others, Denim, but what have you done to help end this war? What have you done to try and make a change?” He looked at his son and his expression became firm. “Let me repeat that, Denim. If you really want to see a change in this city, you are going to have to help make it. You may not see it, but you have potential in you to do great things if you find the courage in yourself to do so. Your brother, Florence, Gravity, Streiter...they were able to achieve their places in the war because they actively sought to change the face of this city. I’m not telling you to become the next leader of Lexis or anything like that, but you cannot sit by idly and wait for peace to come without doing something to work for it. You can’t simply rely on others to do it for you. What you do and how you help work for it...well, you’re going to have to figure that out for yourself. But the more cats and dogs out there fighting for peace and trying to make a difference, even a small difference, then the more of a chance we stand at overpowering Iris and Tempest. You understand?” OOC: ohhh Panja, you and your long ass speeches. Some things never change -sigh-

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[atrb=background,http://i41.tinypic.com/30iyl1z.jpg,true] ooc; Oh my god so many words Denim watched his father's expression carefully. He clearly wasn't happy with the fact that Denim couldn't forgive him for his actions. Perhaps, in time, Denim would. He just didn't know this lion anymore. Ever since Denim had been born, Panja had been somewhat of a mystery to him. They had never spoken much, especially after the kidnapping of his siblings. After Florence's death, Panja had become far more of a recluse, and they had both taken their separate paths. Little did Denim know, Panja was taking a similar path to his own. When Denim looked back over his cubhood, he did regret never communicating with the rest of his family. He was stubborn. After Denim had met Natiri, he no longer looked at his parents or siblings as family. They stood for things that were morally wrong, and he didn't bother to find out anything else about them. Denim wished he'd spoken more to Panja. Perhaps he would understand so much better than he could now. People change. Panja's words echoed around Denim's head. Before Panja could continue his lengthy speech, he quickly spoke up, "Do you think Alex will ever change?" Denim had heard stories of his mother before she had ever met Panja. She had been far worse back then. It was almost impossible to think of how much worse Florence could have been. She was a monster. All Denim remembered of her was her fiery temper. But she had changed. She had fallen in love and had cubs, and that brought out a side that no one would have ever expected from her. She had sacrificed her life for her cubs. However, Denim reckoned she had also done that to bring the Iris numbers up. Three lions were better than one, even if they were cubs. Denim couldn't help but smile at the irony. Orbit, Denim and Nebula had all gone, leaving only Alex to lead. Denim vaguely pondered about whether Alex ever got lonely. He had no family in Iris anymore. Denim didn't count his half-siblings as family. Denim's heart clenched at the mention of love. He didn't know the feelings that swirled inside of him, but Denim reckoned a part of it was love. Natiri meant the world to him, and he would die for her. He would die for Take too. They were his family. Only then did Denim understand the feelings Panja went through when he fell in love with Florence. "Love is uncontrollable," He agreed, "Although, father, I don't think I'll ever understand how you fell in love with a witch like Florence." He meant it as a joke, but there was some seriousness behind it. Panja felt like he knew his purpose, his goal, and Florence had the same ideas. Denim longed to go into the past and see what had happened between them. He was intensely curious as to how Panja had managed to charm Florence into love. It was only when Panja mentioned how old he really was that Denim finally opened his eyes. Panja was a weak, old lion with not much time left with him. Denim wanted to grab him and keep him here. With each day passing, Panja was getting a day closer to death. He wondered whether Denim would won day visit his father, and find only a corpse. His stomach rolled uneasily at the thought. Panja was significantly thinner and gaunter than he had been a year ago. Was he eating well? Denim looked at his father desperately. They were only just coming together and understanding each other, but soon his father would no longer be around. He'd be alone once again. "I forget you're so old, father," Denim admitted meekly, feeling like a fool for asking his father for so much. All Panja wanted to do was live his last months or years in peace. He didn't want to be part of this war anymore. It was then that he felt Panja was giving him a lecture. He felt like a cub again, with his father berating him like this. Denim lowered his head and flattened his ears against his skull. It was true, he had done nothing to try and end this war. "What do you expect me to do? I can't stand fighting, no matter how much I want to kill my brother. I just want to protect Natiri and Take." The names slipped from his mouth before he could even think about it. He had considered joining the Lexis Tribe, especially after he'd befriended Course, but the Lexis was crumbling quickly. There would be no point. Even one lion wouldn't be able to make a difference to that place. They had long since lost, and they were desperately clutching at straws. They didn't even have a leader, for God's sake. He met Panja's eyes, "I am useless, father. I've tried, but no one is willing to listen. It seems the only way to win this war is by force. And I just can't do that."

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