Sahra

The girl is covered in dirt and dust, but it doesn't seem to bother her much.
She stretches her stride between bramble bushes and Boscia trees, her slender figure skirting the red clay rocks with ease. A dassie rat squeaks as she passes before disappearing among the rocks. The lioness does not slow down. Between her fangs, the remains of a zebra's leg, at least several days old. A feast indeed.
In front of her, the canyon appears and finally the prospect of a little rest. Several consecutive roars echo against the rocky walls, a familiar melody from Da'rhad, and she picks up the pace.
Her arrival in the village is eventful, and she wonders if the pride is happy to see her back in good health or if the girls are mostly delighted about the sun-dried meat she struggles to keep out of reach of the hungry lionesses. Several head-butts and purrs later, and Sahra gives up her trophy, which is soon contested by the females.
Da'rhad comes up to her, snorting, before giving her an affectionate headbutt. "You're giving up your meal that fast?"
Sahra flashes him a devilish grin. "Where do you think the rest of the zebra is?" Then she finally lies down and rolls onto her side, her belly well filled and a satiated expression set on her face. Da'rhad can only laugh softly.