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The rain season was coming, he could smell the humidity in the air, and Micah had always hated it. Since he'd been young, still shifting into a mere cub, he'd hated it. Perhaps it had something to do with the time he had nearly drowned when the waters washed him to the river, and he, helpless as he had been, had only lived because his older brother had been there to save him at the time. Things had changed now, his brother, the tribe outcast for being who he was - a black "panther" - had long left and he had grown up to be a much more capable beast. Scarred from many conflicts he'd had with the tribe leader and his close friends, he was still there because he'd come out as the victor and he contributed to the tribe.

Sharp blue eyes scanned the sky from the high tree he'd stretched himself out upon, in man form, little more than the fur of a beast he'd killed covering his nudity. He wanted to chase, to run, to feel wild and free, but the truth was, he was only there to keep watch. Over children no less. It was hard to block out the happy giggles of the five playing in the clearing beneath the tree, but it was something someone had to do, he supposed. Gazing down upon them, he flexed and stretched before leaving his perch, gracefully grabbing hold of another as he dropped from it and ending up dropping softly onto the ground from there.

It was a woman's job, that babysitting... That was the only thing that irked him but he figured it was a punishment for constantly pushing for them, the tribe as a whole to move. He did not know why, exactly, he wanted them to leave the place that had been home for a decade now, but he wanted to, almost needed them all to leave, because he suspected it would be safer that way.

There was company. He knew it before he heard the leaves shifting to give way to a man, he knew it before the wind turned to bring him the scent of... Malik. With a disinterested huff, he turned his attention to the children, in time to catch a smaller one from a fall and plant the giggling brat down onto their feet after lifting her in his arms and growling playfully. He did not hate the children, he hated the fact that Krava, the leader, thought so little of him. His brother being born as a black one had put a damper to his whole family, being considered the bad omen that he was. Somewhere out there, his older brother was fending for himself, had for more then a decade already, long before the tribe had moved there, and he was still considered the runt.

"He is a stupid man," Micah supplied, a small growl rising with his voice and rumbling somewhere in his throat. "Are you implying that we are too weak to claim a new territory? That the children are not bred of us and are weak?" There was a tone of despise in his words. None of the children there were his but he did seem to have more faith in them than Malik did.

Speaking of the children, he smelled a snake, then he heard it slithering and he moved, suddenly, claws elongating and his hand lashing out to catch it, crushing its head in his hand and chucking it off to the side. If he was supposed to watch the youngins, he would. Turning back to Malik, he huffed, "What are you doing out here? Don't you have something better to do? Chase a tail, or hunt, or... make the territory safer."

Running his hand through his hair, Micah sighed heavily, wondering if he could ever get through to anyone rather than just get through to them before it was too late. "I am starting to think you are too young to remember how we came here," Micah retorted dryly. He, in turn, was older than he looked, many of the tribal members were, and some of them believed it was the jungle that kept them younger. Micah had no solid proof to flip that over but he had always questioned what was true and what was not. "It has nothing to do with wanderlust!" Micah snapped, raising his voice slightly. "There is danger in the air," he muttered, forcing himself to calm, "And I fear that by the time the rest of you notice it, it will be too late."

Restless was right, he had to admit. He could not stay put lately, could not find peace anymore and he wondered if that just had to do with the coming rains. He feared them still, deep down, but the persistent insisting of danger coming had come long before that. The look in his blue eyes grew a little fiercer when leaving on his own was suggested. "Do you think I've not thought of that? There is a difference between wanting to keep my family, the only one I know safe, and between wanting to abandon them," he said, taking a small step closer.

"I am positive that if I left, I would not only be safe but I would be stronger, but this is home. You are home," Micah stated, resting a hand on Malik's shoulder and leveling his gaze with his fellow leopard. As much as he hated to admit it, the tribe was his home and the only other true family he had left - his brother - was gone somewhere. He had no doubt that he was alive, because he'd always been a survivor but he had no idea where to go and look for him, or if he would even be recognized.

Micah groaned. He could see why a proof was a necessity, he truly could, but where was he to get one if he was still truly hoping he was paranoid and... wrong about the coming threat. "I know," he admitted with a sigh, "I can not have proof if it has not yet happened. All I have asked from Krava was to put faith in me, trust me this once." Surely that had not been a big demand and he had never asked for much from Krava. The leopard had been leading their tribe when he had exiled his brother and then had been the only other time he had thrown himself to his knees, cried and begged, pleaded for his brother to be allowed to stay and what had he gotten? Humiliation, nothing else. Since then, he had grown much more aggressive, no more a person who would kneel and beg.

Listening to Malik speak was not helping him, either. In a sense, he supposed he understood him, knew why he had not already abandoned the tribe and walked away on his own and even so, he worried that if he tried to leave, Krava would stand in his way and force him to stay. It was something he knew the leopard would do, just to spite him. "Wouldn't you be the first," he said, a bitter undertone to his words. Somehow he doubted many would miss him, although it wasn't necessarily true. He'd protected many of them, spilled blood for a few, and should he only want, there were those who were willing to start a family with him and yet, there he was, bitter, paranoid and alone.

"Don't mix yourself in it," he suggested, shaking his head gently and stepping away, "The only thing you'll earn is his despise. He will claim I have messed with your head and that is where it will end. I will be punished and you will be forbidden to stalk around me." Snorting, Micah shook his head and flashed a half grin at the other man, "Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing for you."

As far as the children went, he eyed them for a bit, watched them roll around with each other and chase one another, and sighed then, turning to Malik again, "Thank you. I will not be far, in case something happens." He did need a moment to stretch his legs, to walk, to try and clear his mind again, as he often attempted to these days. With that, he did slip into the jungle, moving as quietly as a shadow, not because he was trying to be silent but because it had come naturally, at some point.

As he stalked off, alone, keeping his eyes and ears open for any trouble, or sounds in general, he pondered if Malik was right, if he truly had the power to tear the tribe apart and save at least the few who would follow him? It was not the ideal outcome but it was something, it would be keeping some of his "home", as he had put it, safe. It was not an adventure he was offering, of course. It was an escape, when it came down to it. From what, exactly, he did not know. Not yet, anyway.

Krava was right, too, he understood the old leopard, knew his ways, and where he came from but that did not mean he did not consider the man wrong. What he was doing was plain wrong.

Either way, Micah could not stay away from his duties for long. Perhaps an hour late, he stalked right back to the children and Malik, dutiful as he was. This time around, however, he entered the clearing as a leopard, his fur pale in comparison with most others, but his walk and his stance graceful, almost royal. His blue eyes stood out more with the fur covering him, and with a small growl, he flumped down on the ground near the children, his tail twitching away from a younger one that tried to grab it, dangling close to the reach and shifting away once more. He was playing, filling his duty the way he was supposed to, slightly more relaxed thanks to the time Malik had offered him to stay away, be alone.

The day soon rolled into a night and Micah ushered the children back to their respective parents, as duty called. He avoided the tribe leader as well, stalking off to where his own "home" had been built - a green hut melting into the finery of the jungle, barely noticeable, if one was not looking for it. He intended to go for a hunt that night, find himself something to eat, not because the tribe's food was not good enough for him but because he was used to fending for himself and had done so for many years. It was a routine of sorts - he would slip into the jungle behind his hut, and he would disappear into the night for an hour, perhaps two and walk back as a man, with something to skin and cook over an open fire.

Sometimes, some of the teens would come by to have word, share a thought or two and ask about whatever worried them, and he would talk as he cooked his dinner over a small open fire. That night, with his meal sizzling over it, he was alone, sitting by his small fire, a knee drawn up to his chest, the other leg stretched out. It was a bird this time, likely something big and beautiful because the colorful plucked feathers had been gathered into a neat pile and chances were Micah would offer them to those who cared for them to make whatever they liked of them.

Whistling a quiet tune, he turned the bird and sniffed the air, smiling at the scents that were already up in the air. Sometimes those things lured predators, sometimes... Micah proved to be a bigger predator but the night was filled with sounds that were not predatory enough for him to feel concerned.

The tune fell silent on his lips and sharp blue eyes rose as he was joined by none other than Malik, yet again. He measured his gaze over the younger man and slouched down more, offering him a half-shrug. "A bird. A feathered little monkey more like it," he responded, measuring the size of it with his gaze and smiling contently to himself, much more relaxed after his little hunt as he often was.

"Come, sit," he offered, making a wide hand gesture to offer Malik whatever place he wanted to occupy. "What's keeping you from going home this time?" Micah asked, extending a little curiosity towards the other blond. "Daddy trouble?" he asked, slightly entertained by the thought but bitter none the less. His own was dead, as was most of his personal bloodline. "Or are you just feeling lonely?" Micah sometimes did, even if there was the majority of the tribe with whom he could and would gladly talk to, not to even mention helping them, playing around and generally having fun, as long as everything that needed to be done got done.

((Good. Busy but good. What about you?))