It was dawn in the Pridelands. Hunting parties were just assembling, preparing to head out before the heat of midday made the work unbearable. Birds were warming up their singing voices. Antelope were grazing. Young wildebeest were headbutting and play fighting. Crocodiles were settling in to their dangerous hiding places at the waters' edge. Hyenas were yipping. And Kipapa was prancing around a field, jumping and sprinting, chasing bugs.
The young klipspringer was alone in the treeless section of savannah, carrying not about hunting parties or her current lonely state. Even if she did care, she was really too young to know what to do with herself should she come in harm's way. She knew that the Pridelanders were kinder lions than most, and that if she were to be attached to one, she would most certainly be safe. If she were more mature, perhaps wiser, she might also suspect they wouldn't think of bringing down such a young thing. None of that mattered to her, though. All that was on her mind were the bugs she was chasing around her field and the soft glow of early morning. She was oblivious to all.
