Hunting was not going well that day.
It was too windy for Setu to get into position without alerting the herds of his presence, and the clouds ahead were threatening to burst at any moment. Setu had wandered much farther than usual to try to find something to catch, but all he had managed to get was a small rodent that he had found under a rock. He had quickly stashed away the meager meal for later, but it appeared it would be the only thing he would be bringing back. If he didn't just eat it himself, of course.
The lion rarely felt frustrated about anything, but he was becoming quite close to it. Setu's tail was beginning to swish in agitation as he tried to line up with the small herd of gazelles for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
At least the clouds also served to bathe the lands in shadow. Sometimes his bright fur made him stick out in the grass, so he had to be extra careful to keep quiet. Silence was a skill he had developed well in his birth pride, so it came naturally to him. If only the blasted wind would stop blowing his scent in the wrong direction!
