You are doing well but now it is time to start putting your training to the test.
His father’s voice echoed in his head as he loped across the open landscape, thin and scarred and wild-eyed. He moved fleetingly and swift, pausing every now and then to double-check that he was alone. Alone except for the jackal moving at his heel. Since the sun had come up the jackal had attacked him twice and if he slowed again too long he knew that she would make another attempt. The wounds from the first time still pained him, though her second attempt had been knocked away easily enough. She seemed less frightening now that he was growing and she no longer matched him in size. Her teeth hurt, though, and she was swift enough to dodge his paws if she was at her best.
“Wakala.” He spoke the next time he came to a halt, pausing in the shadow of the brush. “How much further?”
The jackal was not as young as he and well-travelled. She knew this part of the land better than most and could give him a decent estimate. Today she was here as a guide and to make sure he didn’t dawdle.
“Not much. When the sun comes to rest just above the trees.”
His ears flicked back into his tattered mane and, with a nod, he continued onwards, his swaggering gait not slowing again until his destination came into sight.
They made good time and the sun was still higher in the sky than Wakala had predicted when the grove came into sight. It was a small patch of greenery set back away from a shallow water source. The tang of water in the air was tempting, though, and he was mildly surprised that no one had uprooted their target before him. The jackal was panting beside him, exhausted, and the young adolescent knew that she would not trouble him again this day. She couldn’t pose a threat in such a state – even if he was feeling the aches of the exertion, too. Long distances did not come easy for him, what with being malnourished and clearly at the receiving end of aggression.
“Who is that?” Wakala yipped suddenly, bristling.
“Not the one we’re seeking.” The young male confirmed, his head sinking in line with his shoulders. He’d had very little experience with dealing with others. His father and the jackal were the only ones he spent any time with and both of them were responsible for the scars that scattered across his body.
“A female.” The jackal added needlessly.
“I can see that.” The lion grumbled, pushing back into cover to avoid being seen.
The jackal laughed, clearly amused, but the lion ignored her. Just because he’d never spent time with females didn’t mean he wasn’t aware they existed. He wasn’t that naïve.
The lioness faltered by the water and bowed her head to drink. And, despite himself, the male watched her. She seemed very soft, her pale fur smooth and pale – so in contrast to his own. She seemed small, too. Delicate, almost. But afraid, too. She couldn’t drink without pausing to glance around, her ears twitching in ever constant vigilance. Was something pursuing her? He couldn’t see anyone else close by but that wasn’t to say there was no one. He of all people knew what dangers could lurk in the shadows.
The jackal bit him, startling him from his thoughts.
“Wakala--!”
“The wind is changing. You don’t want to fail your father, do you?”
A shudder of fear raced through his veins at the thought of it. Fear as cold and biting as ice. He didn’t doubt that failure would mean a beating and sometimes his sire didn’t know when to stop. He’d killed his brother because he hadn’t been able to control his strength. But he wasn’t supposed to think of him as ‘father’, either. He was ‘Master’. Nothing less.
“We need to get ourselves into a better position to see if the lion is home.” He continued, drawing in a breath and circling around. The jackal, always at his side, added her nose to his.
And, as one, they said: “Nothing.”
The lion grimaced. “Then we wait and hope that Master is patient.”
The jackal bared her teeth. “He knows nothing of patience, you should know that. But we must wait.”
“Let’s head back to cover.”
The brush rattled as he moved against it, moving deeper so that the foliage could help mask his scent if the wind made another change to give him away. The jackal, helpfully, moved to survey the area. Rogues tended to be suspicious of lions but a little lone jackal could get away with being ignored. Wakala was a helpful asset in that way. Always able to sneak around unseen, or act as a good distraction. Between the two of them the success rate of their missions had been high. But this would be his first true test and he’d not let anyone get in the way of it being completed.
There was a sudden rustle of leaves and then, without warning, the steady thud of paws on compact earth. The lion twisted his head and spotted a flash of pale gold fur disappearing through the undergrowth. They had been spotted! Launching himself after the other lion, he raced carelessly through the branches, wincing as the branches lashed at his face. A second later and he was leaping straight at his victim, snarling as he pinned the intruder to the ground. There was a moment of struggling and then all went quiet.
Blinking up at him through a pair of pale blue eyes was the pale female he had spied earlier. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her eyes wide. And for a long moment he stared down at her, surprised to see her so close. Why had she come here? To hide? Surely she must have sensed that there had been a lion there recently, unless she had assumed they had been and gone.
“Are you going to kill me?” She asked, her voice clipped and strangely firm despite how afraid she must have been. Odd. His master had taught him that women were simpering cowards. And yet he’d seen many a male lion break down in fear when faced with the prospect of meeting their end. Not this one, though. And, on this occasion, he did not know what to do. She wasn’t a target. Just a passer-by.
“Tu-Bana!” The jackal piped. “There’s movement.”
That was it then. Time gone. He either ended it now or released her. And before he’d truly considered it, his claws were relaxing their hold. “You need to get away.” He warned lowly, taking a step back as she found her paws. And even as she did so he knew he’d done wrong. His master would have been furious. He was letting her go. And why? Because she had put on a brave face? Because she was female? But there was no time to think on it. What was done was done and his true target had turned up.
Adrenaline flooded into him. Warmed him. And, turning back to where Wakala waited, he slipped into his mental meditation to prepare himself for the task ahead.
/fin
