Food.
Not just food, fresh food. It might not be alive but it wasn’t long dead, and Bekeli was starving.
He could smell it. It’d been a long, long time since Bekeli had eaten a meal that hadn’t consisted of maggoty flesh and rotting entrails. He really couldn’t remember. The hyena wasn’t the most accomplished hunter roaming the savanna, and he’d found better luck in the desert. Really, though, it couldn’t be considered luck – there wasn’t as much competition for food (fresh or otherwise) here in the endless sea of sand, and Bekeli preferred it this way.
Swallowing the saliva that pooled in his mouth, the rangy hyena picked up the pace. He could already taste the coppery sweetness of meat in his mouth, the delicious feeling of his teeth sinking into flesh that didn’t yet have the sour tang of decay to it. And oh, the bones, the bones! They would be all his. Not to mention the eyeballs! Maybe the eyeballs still had jelly in them and he could eat those last, savoring the pop and burst of the fluid within. Or maybe he’d eat them first – they were his favorite, after all, and it’d been so long since he’d had them.
As he reached the cusp of the rolling sand dune he caught sight of a dark form that sprawled across the sand. The body was half-covered by sand, but more importantly the vultures had gotten there first. With a reedy whine Bekeli sprinted forward, shrill screams rising from his throat as he drew closer to the corpse. The vultures took flight in irritation, and the corpse was all his - or so Bekeli thought until he barely caught the rise and fall of the corpse’s chest.
It was a lion, and it was still alive.
An excited growl made Bekeli’s throat ache with anticipation. If the lion was still alive that meant that his blood would still be warm and hadn’t yet curdled with decomposition. Bekeli placed a paw on the lions head and gave a shove before backpedaling a few feet. The lion showed no reaction and Bekeli yip-whined with excitement. First, though, he would have to drag the lion elsewhere. He sent a seedy glance towards the vultures that watched him expectantly.
No, this simply wouldn’t do.
Whining his little reedy nasally whine, Bekeli grasped a mouthful of the lion’s limp mane and tugged with all of the might he could muster. Though the lion was scrawny and near-death, he still outweighed the little hyena. Another whine burst through Bekeli’s lips as he thought about his predicament for a moment before trying again. Another mouthful of the lion’s mangy mane, another effort-filled tug, another failure.
Annoyed, Bekeli sat back on his haunches and sent a glance towards the vultures. They’d come closer, watching him with interest, their beady eyes watching him as they waited for blood to spill. Bekeli’s hackles rose and he screeched at them in annoyance but they succinctly ignored the hyena and continued to watch him with eager expressions.
A scent caught Bekeli’s attention, one that he didn’t recognize. This was turning out to be a terrible situation. The scent was strong which meant the stranger was drawing near, and Bekeli whined and shifted his feet in the sand before dipping his head once more in an attempt to drag the lion away by his mane. No luck.
Walking a circle around the lion, two circles, three… Bekeli tried to decide what to do next. He wasn’t the greatest fighter ever, in fact, he’d much rather just run from a fight. If a challenger approached, Bekeli wouldn’t be able to fight. Not when the vultures were so close, watching and waiting. Nervously he whined, eyes alert and ears perked.
It wasn’t long before he caught sight of a figure in the distance, distorted by the heat rising from the sand. Frantically now, Bekeli pulled the lion by his mane and an ear, shifting it a mere few feet across the sand. Any other hyena would have split the lion in two by now, but Bekeli was not willing to share with a few hungry vultures – not his first fresh meal in a long, long time. He wouldn’t share, not those sweet jelly-filled eyes or the creamy brains. Those were going to be all his.
Though she was still a fair distance away, Coolbreeze caught sight of a hyena fighting with a corpse. He couldn’t be the smartest hyena she’d ever come across – he was trying to drag the corpse that was obviously double his size into the shade of a nearby rock. She couldn’t help but chuckle. Coolbreeze had never met a smart male hyena, and she wondered if that was saying something for the species as a whole.
Shaking her head, she moved towards the hyena. Perhaps if she helped him move it, he would be more willing to share. Coolbreeze wasn’t fond of scavenging but here on the desert sometimes it was a necessary thing to do. She had to eat even if that meant supping on the wormy flesh of a dead lion.
She paused for a moment, close enough now to see that the hyena was trying to drag around a rather large (though severely emaciated) lion by his mane. His eyes watched her as he frantically pulled with all of his might but to no avail.
“Stay away,” he screeched at her, yellowed fangs flashing at her. Coolbreeze paused and dared take a step closer. Attentively she watched the corpse – she could swear she’d seen the lion breathe – and sure enough his skeletal chest rose and fell in a weak fleeting motion.
“That lion is still alive,” she whispered, golden eyes shooting up to peer at the hyena. He was ignoring her, still futilely trying to move the lion across the sand. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. “I said, hyena, that that lion is still alive.”
“He won’t be for long,” Bekeli responded greedily, almost as if he was trying to assure Coolbreeze that the lion was soon enough going to be his dinner. “He’s mine, I found him and you can’t have any. I’m not sharing. Maybe,” he added regally in an annoyingly whiny voice, “once I’m done you can have some before the vultures start in on what’s left.”
Idiot, Coolbreeze thought to herself as she took yet another step forward, this time a snarl on her face. “You drop that lion where he rests, hyena, or I’ll flatten you in an instant.” Her golden eyes spoke the truth – she wouldn’t leave the lion to this fate. She was a Healer of the Peke Na, and she would save all life that required saving.
“Just go away,” Bekeli whined, tongue lolling out as he panted over his fruitless attempts at moving the lion. “I’m hungry, dog.” He should have torn out the lion’s throat before she’d gotten too close, but he hadn’t and he was cursing himself now. All he had to show for his efforts was a mouth full of hair and sand and a stomach that cramped with hunger.
“Drop the lion, hyena. I will kill you,” Coolbreeze vowed, taking another purposeful step forward. “Drop him or I’ll drop you.”
Bekeli heard the seriousness in the wild dog’s voice, and he hesitated, shifting from foot to foot in the hot sand. He couldn’t take the wild dog by himself – he was a terrible hunter, and she seemed well-fed and well-rested. She also seemed determined to help the lion.
He spun two circles in quick succession before shrieking in furious anger. A low growl erupted from his throat before he took one menacing step forward, though better, and turned tail and ran. There would be another meal, he knew it, although it would be wormy and without sweet, delicious salty eyeballs. He valued his own life, though, however vain that might sound, and he wouldn’t put up a fight for a scrawny lion… even if his eyes were still intact.
Coolbreeze moved closer to the lion that was prone in the sand. Yes, there was life still in his skeleton-like body, and where there was life, there was hope. First came shelter, and then she would tend to the heinous burns that littered his nose and paws. She was sure he had a story worth hearing, and she would make damn sure he lived to tell the tale.
WC: 1,400
