Claws bit into the dust, gauging through the earth. Muscles screamed in protest as they stretched to breaking, powering the male forwards with each massive stride. His body pistoned like a machine as it took great flying leaps, clearing fallen trees, hillocks, termite mounts and other obstructions. Yet it was not fast enough, as he could feel the rancid breath of their enemy breathing down the back of his neck, the snap of teeth that grazed his flank as he swerved to the side. But more of them were there waiting for him. Their red eyes glowed as they salivated, wanting to devour him and his mate just like they had slaughtered the rest of the pride, those that hadn’t escaped but had stayed behind, hoping to plea for surrender. With an effort that made his bones hurt he raced even faster, desperately trying to reach his den where he had left Maria several hours ago when he had left to go scouting for the Borgia spies.Everything had been too late. The spies had been waiting for him, tried to lead him into a trap. He had managed to avoid the Borgia’s henchmen, fighting his way free of their trap and fleeing across the savannah. Yet he knew it was too late, they had known exactly where he had been so they must have watched him leave that morning. He could only hope they hadn’t killed her yet. Soon the den sight came into view and his heart dropped, for more than twenty fighters were ringed about it, digging furiously. Something made him swerve behind an outcropping of rocks, some instinct he listened to without thought. Slowing he moved silently now, employing all his skills as an assassin. Pausing he felt the fur along his back prickle. Something wasn’t right... they were digging calmly, taking turns and allowing each other to rest. There was no blood, no sign of her body... they couldn’t have reached her yet, but.. the den wasn’t that deep.. The tunnel! He had completely forgot about it!
Turning he slipped along the rocky outcrop, careful to keep low and not sky-line himself, until he reached a small hill. Trotting along the base away from the den site, he dropped his nose to the ground and started to track, moving along carefully yet with an urgency he couldn’t ignore. There! That was the scent.. sweet and musky, and no more than a minute or two old. She had made it out! Pausing he felt something brush his rear and spun round, a silent snarl on his lips, but then he saw those deep, warm brown eyes and the playful, cheeky smile and felt himself melt with relief.
Maria gave him one of her dazzling smiles and licked his ruff, though they kept a careful silence between them, neither of them making a sound. After pressing his face close against her fur he gathered himself and lifted his head, meeting her gaze. They both knew they had to get away form the area. Their den was going to be destroyed, the Borgia goons wouldn’t rest until they had dug all the way through the hillside. Together they turned away, following the old, faint trail along the base of the hill until they were about opposite where the den was, then they turned for the west. Keeping the hill between them and the Borgia fighters, the pair moved into ground eating lope, a pace they could keep up for some hours.
It was well into the evening by the time they slowed down. Hunger a living thing in their bellies yet they had not dared pause to hunt, unsure how far away the Borgia henchmen were. Finally however, they had to try and quickly ran down a brace of hares, enough to keep them going a little longer anyway. After resting for an hour they resumed their run, putting as much distance as they could between them and the pride that hunted them. For days they ran. Barely stopping to hunt, only napping for an hour or two at any one time. Their pace slowed, but just as they were close to exhaustion, they knew the Borgia warriors were also, and if not, they were too far behind to be a threat. Eventually they could go no longer and had found a way into the mountains, for they left no print or scent upon the rocks, and near the top of the tree line, they found an old den. Settling there they hunted, ate and then slept for what felt like days. By the time they were rested and ready to go, their third night was upon them. In the shadow of the darkness they slipped out and crossed the mountain peaks before descending down the far side. They were now fugitives, on the run from a blood-thirsty pride who would not stop until the last of the Assassins were dead.
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Pale morning lit filtered into the den, weak and gentle but enough to wake the slumbering male. Blinking open weary eyes Giovanni gazed out into the light, struggling to bring himself back from the not-so-distant past and into the present. Lifting his head he looked down at his mate, still fast asleep at his side, and allowed himself to feel a wave o relief and gratitude. They had survived that race across the roguelands, over the mountains and beyond... But they had survived and they had at last found their way to this pride... a place called the Kizingo-zaa.
Beside him Maria stirred, looking up with a sleepy smile on her face. A moment later she blinked the sleep haze form her eyes and leaned into him, giving his muzzle a soft lick. “You had another dream didn’t you...” She murmured, shifting to press against his side, wishing she could take away the memories that plagued him. She had her fair share, but she did not feel the guilt and sense of responsibility that her mate did. She also knew he would shoulder those burdens till the day he died.
Standing she stepped forwards then paused, letting her tail flick across his muzzle playfully, dark eyes sparkling. If she couldn’t take away his memories, she would distract him from them. With a playful, sensual laugh, she bounded out of the den and away across the sands, Giovanni in hot pursuit behind her.
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