He didn't know where he was but he was certain of one thing and that was him being lost, he didn't know where any of his former clanmates were at and he recalled waking up on a beach with some of his scars reopened the salt water lapping at his wounds. It had stung and it hurt yet he laid there staring out towards the rest of the beach feeling his face being covered by gritty sand, it was cold due to the water lapping at it so many times and he wished he had landed on much dryer sand so he could at least, feel the warmth pressing against his skin. He slowly rose to his paw gritting his teeth in pain only to stumble on his paws like a newborn wildebeest calf, his first steps were shaky and unstable making the jaguar quite frustrated with himself only to say in a tired voice "A-Amaya? S-Sleep. . . Deadlock. . ." No one came to his soft calls. He had no idea where he even was but, he slowly stepped off the beach catching wind of an overwhelming scent that a clan lived here though he was unaware of which he didn't wish to stay any longer. He managed to pick up his tigers skin throwing it onto his beck to hide his scars and adjusted most of the items that he bore, blood slowly staining the coat of the white tigers skin and dripping onto the ground as he limped away from the scene with an exhausted sigh escaped his slightly parted jaws.

He hadn't stopped walking even when it started raining and his paws smelt of that metallic smelling substance that every time his pawpads seem to be cracked. He left a few bloody pawprints behind him leaving a trail that was soon hidden by the rain, he was grateful since he was certain that he wouldn't be able to fight off any animals. That's when the sight of an abandoned building soon came into his range, he would pick up the pace lifting his muzzle up a bit to pick out any smells of other animals and was found with none. He stepped into the house roaming around until he found a mattress which he let his sore body sink into, he closed his normally cold eyes and fell into a deep sleep which made him flinch at first since he hadn't rested in some hours. Hell, he wasn't sure how long he had slept since he had first arrived or appeared on the beach. His paws were crusted in blood as well as underneath his cloak, the tigers skin being a faint pink colour that was slowly fading away thanks to the amount of rain that had poured onto it. He was certain that he would be able to sleep for decades much like Sleepwalker had when it was him and his clanmates, none of them were his friends or at least, he had never considered them that way. It was almost thought or considered selfish in this society nowadays, he wasn't able to act the way he truly was like without having someone become overly sensitive, the thought seemed to spike his irritation towards those that took things to literal.

That was when a voice seemed to pierce through any nightmares or dreams that he was having, he slowly opened his eyes trying to figure out where he was at the time. Abandoned house on a mattress. He lifted his house slightly unsure of what to say at first only to growl weakly "G-Get out. . ." If that wasn't enough to chase the intruder from his temporary home then he'd slowly rise to his paws shaking as he did this, his body screaming for him to lay down but Kunta being stubborn wouldn't do such a thing. He started limping through the home once more both curved ears angled forward until he caught sight of the angelic appeared caraval, she was definitely quite the creature and he had never seen anyone like her. He was about to repeat himself that she should leave yet he couldn't muster up the words as his good conscious would make him imagine himself in her situation, cold and completely drenched courtesy of the rain. His body shook as droplets of water and blood dripped from him, he took a step back feeling his head starting to ache before he would fall onto his side and pass out.

He didn't want her near him and he was too stubborn to accept any help yet he had passed out from the loss of blood, he supposed that he was unable to do anything especially with his head swimming and him just standing was enough to send him falling back down. It was frustrating really and he'd open his eyes to see her bringing in a form of cart and a small hermit crab staring at him, the jaguar rumbled quietly with clear irritation and not wanting any of them near him. Why should he trust her or her dumb little crab? Well, he could list several reasons of why he should trust her yet he was much too stubborn to admit to any of it and he would stare down at his paws feeling tattered curtains being placed on some of his wounds. He supposed that he was fine with her touching him as long as she stayed away from his back area due to the fact that's where most of his ugly scars were located and he didn't exactly feel comfortable with showing anyone.

So whenever it seemed like she'd go near his back, he would growl quietly in warning even if he was in no condition to fight her off or let alone swat her because of how exhaustion seemed to control his body. He flicked his ear with an irritated expression on his face even if most of the time he had what people normally called a 'resting bitch face', which was true even if he'd never agree to it with anyone. Mainly because he was the most stubborn person that anyone would ever meet, Kunta Bekoe Ghana, took the cake when it came to being stubborn and standoffish towards everyone. Hell, you safe his life and he'd probably still be a bit of an asswipe. He watched her through half-open eyes though he didn't utter a single word to her still glaring at Khepri.

He knew what the sting of herbs felt like and had grown accustomed to it especially since it was at a young childhood that he had to know how to apply herb poultice on his own wounds thanks to his father, he had mixed feelings about the parent that had sired him and now that he was on his own without his mother, he felt a bit of regret for leaving her back at home in the middle of the night when she had been resting. He began to wonder where she was now and if she'd ever forgive him for disappearing leaving her with his seemingly abusive father, he just wasn't strong enough for the both of them and that's what he was probably most disappointed about he supposed. He stared down at his cracked pawpads once more unsure of what to feel anymore or if he should care enough to feel at all, he didn't even think he'd be in this vulnerable state with some stranger tending to his wounds.

His curved ears twitched briefly and he blinked at the sting of the herbs against his wound, he didn't even flinch when it had made contact with the delicate flesh. Even if he was a different form of deity, it didn't mean that he couldn't still die like any other being even if he would likely be resurrected in a different form. He supposed that he shouldn't be all that bitter about it but rather grateful towards the stranger "You could have let me die. . ." He finally said pausing as he cleared his throat soon adding almost hesitantly "But you didn't so I am grateful for that. . ." Well, he supposed that he was grateful for her act of mercy and well, kind. His whiskers twitched briefly as he stared at her eyes with his own icey pools taking her appearance in. Almost like an angel. She was not like any caraval that he has ever seen and she was quite. . . Breathtaking and ethereal for a mortal. He glanced away eventually.

"I am Kunta Bekoe Ghana."

Kunta was unfamiliar to the company of what siblings were since he was born an only child which he was quite grateful for since he didn't think that his other siblings would be able to handle his father like he had. He never had to worry about anyone but himself or his mother but, now that he was on his own at the time then his main concern had been placed on himself once again. He never had to worry about his siblings but there was only two people he was worried about yet he had no clue as to where they could possibly be, Blueridge and Sephora. He frowned wondering where they could be feeling that he was actually missing them, he released a soft sigh deciding to remove them off his thoughts for now since he had other things to tend to at the time. As much as he loved them, he couldn't seem to feel their presence in the universe and knowing himself well, he would be frustrated and he was already like that at the moment.

A lifetime of war. He actually believed that was the most interesting bit of his life, how he would fight for his clan alongside his militaristic minded lover. The both of them were quite the duo and it almost seemed as if the two of them were unstoppable whenever they fought with anyone from enemy clans. He thought that was the exciting bit of his life even if he earned scars through it all but, he was so used to having scars and he wasn't uncomfortable because of them but rather feeling that each scar told a story. No one should know his story was what he had decided until he knew them well enough he supposed, the scars almost looking like the stripes of a tiger which he found ironic seeing as he was a jaguar nonetheless they told a story and the newer scars were the beginning of a story. A story that was far from home and his clanmates as well as his leadership, he supposed that was the end of his reign. He just hoped that whoever took control would be responsible and lead the clan well, he knew that Amaya would make a good choice.

Hearing her question, he raised a non-existent eyebrow at her only to say "A lot of assholes, I've known plenty of them." The jaguar twitched his whiskers briefly as he moved a little to get in a more comfortable position "You clearly aren't one of them. . ." He grunted stretching out one of his forepaws before digging his sharp claws into the wood of the floor and he noticed how she would glance away from him when he had been staring at her. Huh, she got pretty flustered easily and well, it took Kunta a lifetime to even blush for anyone. Amaranth Jones. He remembered seeing these kind of flowers once but they were quite pretty much like the caraval standing in front of him though he wouldn't voice those thoughts or else the poor femme would die from embarrassment especially if she just so happen to get a compliment from a random stranger even if they had exchanged names. He didn't know the places here so he would ask with a soft snort escaping him "Where were you heading if you don't mind me asking,"

He didn't know where he was or if he was going to decide on staying here in the abandoned house on a not-so comfortable mattress. That and also the fact that he was an unknown area, he didn't know any of the clans here or their alliances so he supposed that he would ask Amaranth about those. "What are the clans around these parts and the alliances they hold with one another?" He asked with his usual blunt voice, it was slightly sore since he hadn't had much to drink or eat since he had arrived in this forsaken universe. He watched Khepri become fidgety since the small ocean-dweller wanted to go on the caraval's head and he stared at the odd couple with a twitch of his whiskers. It was oddly cute. "That hermit takes quite the liking to you. . ." He finally muttered as he adjusted his position a bit more the tigers skin moving only slightly exposing some of the larger, uglier scars that were inflicted upon his body but it was only for a moment that they were exposed before becoming hidden once more.

Well, he had nothing like Amaranth had but then again he never looked like any of the other gods. He and his mother never looked like his uncle and grandmother, they appeared more ethereal whilst he and his mother looked plain like any other mortal. It almost made it difficult for other gods to even depict whether or not they were true gods or not, even his father possessed a powerful look to him. His uncle had joked about his mother being a late bloomer, whatever that had meant but he didn't take these things to heart but just marveled at the possibility of being or becoming anything like his father or other relatives. He never met his grandfather and his mother always said it was for the best from what he had collected she probably didn't know him as well as she probably would've liked. Kunta wished it was that kind of thing between him and his father but, that wasn't the case.

The ironic bit of being royalty and actually having a reign was the fact that he had been taught as a child by his father always told that he would become a king. Kunta eventually snapped that he hadn't wanted anything to do with that since he felt that it was a lot of responsibility to take in and it was stressful especially since his wouldn't know if he would do it well or fuck it up. He actually made a good leader was what came to surprise for him though he only blamed it on his young, childhood teachings from his father. He could recall how he had gotten lashed at by his parent whenever he didn't want to be taught. He was taught other things and it made a brief shiver move his body although, it could easily be confused for him being cold which was difficult since he was already cold on the inside and outside. He supposed that a humble life would relax him and not be as stressful as being a leader of a bunch of strangers that he probably wouldn't see as friends for a good while.

Kunta realized the air of calmness that the femme had taken was contorted briefly to pain, he wondered why and was about to open his jaws to tell her that she didn't need to tell him anymore. Anywhere. Kunta would head 'anywhere' as well but, he always wanted to listen to the whole alliance thing before he actually decided in going any place. His whiskers twitched at the sound of the Ascendants, it sounded like an old clan that he and his small family had inhabited. He decided he didn't like it then again, he never liked anything at first. Snowbound was like a family. He shouldn't mess with them? Huh, he supposed that he'll listen for once. Tanglewood and the Typhoon. Cutthroat pirates and weirdos at war, it sounded petty but when she mentioned how the Typhoon disregarded other feelings did his curved ears angle forward to give her a solemn expression. It was never a clan as a whole but an individual, he would've asked who but he refrained from doing so. It was none of his business. He stared down at his claws remembering a lot of things he had done but the most obvious one was the one stuck on his back, the skin of a leader.

Leader killer.

He had heard people say before he had vanished. Had he taken in regard of how the individual close to the leader would feel? No, he hadn't and well he supposed that he felt guilt as well as a bit of regret for killing someone. He didn't remember the full purpose or reason why he had done it but, he remembered a former leader talking to him and trying to comfort him. He had been angry. The jaguar took a deep breath in and stared at Amaranth once more saying with a subtle nod of his cranium "Well, the good thing is that you're no where near them anymore. No point in staying someplace that disregards your feelings or morals. I feel as if there's more to this but, I'm not going to prod. . . I respect your privacy. . . Although, if you ever need me to. . ." He paused shouldering the tigers skin on his back, muscles rippling underneath the skin likes stark waves "Feel free to tell me." It was meant as a joke but he looked so serious that it wouldn't have been taken that way until he let out a weak chuckle.

Unless, she did want someone severely injured or killed then he could likely arrange it especially since she had basically saved his life. Khepri. He watched the hermit crab for a few moments only to say with a soft snort escaping him "So much pride for such a small body." Without another word, he slowly rose to his paws careful not to remove his curtain bandages still a bit shaky on his paws and his head ached quite a bit. The jaguar let out a soft breath glancing behind him noticing that there was only room, he supposed that he took take a living room couch for himself even if the cotton of the cushions seemed to spill out like guts. "You must be tired, go occupy the room over there." He nodded in the direction of the bedroom and without waiting for her argument started to make his way to the living room couch.

Stubborn Kunta. Would he ever learn?