<strong>Cecily Cochran</strong><br/><br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://i674.photobucket.com/albums/vv110/jelly_beanjlw/Cecily.jpg)</div>They weren’t trees, so much as really tall bushes. Their trunks thin enough so that the entire tree swayed with the gentlest wind. It wasn’t like home, like the large strong pines whose trunks never faltered. But here, the beasts were stronger than the trees. And one such beast was the reason for her being here. He would smell her soon and come to deal with her trespassing. So Cecily walked and she waited, no fear of what waited and watched her.<br/><br/>She heard him first, the soft crunch of grass and twig, the gentle paw against dirt. It amazed Cecily that a beast so large could move with such elegance and grace. Though it shouldn’t, her father too was capable of such feats. His anger rushed her next. She felt it flow off of him and blast into her. Were she merely human, had she ignored the danger signs and found herself in this position … she’d likely be dead very soon.<br/><br/>But she wasn’t human, no matter what her appearance was. No matter how much she wanted to be simply human … she wasn’t. So she stayed still and did not turn. Cecily kept her glamour in tact, but let her true essence flow from her and to him. She listened as he snorted curiously, smelling her for what she was really. Only then, when she felt his anger wane did she turn fully and stare down the lion.<br/><br/>His mane was thicker than most and his height spoke of power as much as the scars the riveted his muscular form. Legends of the tribes near this particular den, spoke of his might and did so with fear. Even her guides had screamed and shouted as she’d moved off without them. Now she was sure they’d be ransacking her camp, thinking her dead. None of the mattered, not now, not when she was this close to him. She’d spent six months trying to get here. Six months searching for this one, for this beast … king of the jungle, the savanna, the entire African continent. And a magnificent king he was.<br/><br/>Knowing her place, showing him his due respect, and lining up for the perfect shot, Cecily knelt in the dirt in front of him. And when she cast her eyes upon him, her camera (worth more than most spent on a car) in her left hand, she let him know her and what she was about. And he gave her the same. She saw his pride, both the mothers and the cubs, and she saw his home the way he saw it. No he didn’t fear humans, though he feared those like her and their weapons. So she showed him her camera was not a weapon, let him see through her eyes what she used it for.<br/><br/>And Cecily was smiling as he approached, smiling as she lifted the camera to her eye and focused the lens, and smiling with triumph as he roared.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Cecily was antsy on the plane, even more so since her lay over in France. It was bad enough, spending so many months in Africa and then throwing herself back into the fray of humanity. But add to it that her best friend was … well … not what she’d thought she was all these years. But, if the “Fae Cinderella” articles were true, Dawn had as much knowledge of her heritage as Cecily did. Which made her much less the deceiver than Cecily.<br/><br/>Cecily knew exactly what she was and chose to ignore it and most aspects of it. She was the one who had lied and deceived those she cared very much for … including Dawn. And now she’d have to answer it, because if it was true, if Dawn was the potential high ruler … then Cecily owed her that much. And Dawn would know, if nothing else would know just by Cecily’s inability to properly lie. Which was ludicrous since her entire life to this point was a lie.<br/><br/>She missed Dawn, she missed DC, she just missed her life. More than six months away had made her miss a lot of things. All she had wanted was to go back to normal, but apparently normal wasn’t going to be found. At least not as it was before Cecily left. She worried for Dawn too, knowing things must not be that easy for her either, especially with the press and with her new found political commitments.<br/><br/>Shaking her head, Cecily went back to sorting her photographs … paying particular homage to one of a roaring lion, far too close to have been safe. The power and the glory in the shot made her shiver. She’d go back some day, to see his life and his pride. She owed him that much. But she’d go back … after he won her a Pulitzer.<br/><br/>By the time she was off the plane and through customs, Cecily had her phone out and waited patiently for voice mail. It was the last number she had for Dawn and as the beep sounded … a six ton brick of emotions flooded from Cecily.<br/><br/>Happiness.<br/><br/>“Dawn! Hey! I’m back and so I see you are too, though I never knew you left …”<br/><br/>Annoyance.<br/><br/>“Could you have managed an email?”<br/><br/>Fear.<br/><br/>“I really hope you’re alright, I worry about you.”<br/><br/>Love.<br/><br/>“We need to talk and soon. I’ve miss you. Be safe. Call me as soon as you get this.”