It had to come eventually. For years, he had delayed this journey, fearing the unknown. Of course he didn't want to go back! Especially when he had nothing to come back to. Sikulu had realized it after he had grown up that it wasn't the land that made a pride; it was its inhabitants, its rulers. As he stood on the border near the hunting grounds, he felt an unshakable melancholy wash over him. He was home, but it was like an empty seashell.
He could see the pristine beaches farther down from the undulating terrain where he now sat. The odd mournful cry of the seagulls flying overhead. It was as if they knew how he felt. Very alone and very wistful. His thoughts floated back to happier days, when it was just him and his family, and a handful of lions and lionesses romping about. Everything was like a never-ending summer, and there was a constant stream of discoveries to be made by the young prince.
The sudden cry of a gull startled him back to the present. Sikulu shifted his weight around, feeling very unsure. The coarse sand hissed around his feet. Slowly, he tentatively began prowling through the hunting ground. The small patches of grass didn't do much to hide him, but he prayed he could perhaps spy without interference.
