[97 words]

When Kysha roared, lions answered. She was second only to the king of the pride, Klaern, having been one of the two lionesses that founded the pride with him. Klaern valued her so much that he offered her a blazing pelt, and now whenever she went hunting she could feel the sun fuelling her steps. Now, one of the adolescents that was under her tutelage slunk behind her like a second shadow, with only a slight rustling giving away her presence. The other huntresses stood, eyes turned expectantly to her, waiting for her to lead the hunt.

[320 words]

The air is thick, insects creating a heavy drone that smother every other sound in the jungle. So much so that you don't hear the pad of lion paws until a growl cuts through everything else, a lionesses darting in front of your path. Her fur seems like a wildfire against the wall of green around you.

"What is your business here?" she demands, teeth bared.

You step back in surprise, "I'm just passing through."

"Not without Klaern's permission, you're not."

Now, you take a deep breath and find the scent of pride. It's not one you recognise, and it's weaker than you're used to, but it's there.

"I didn't realise there was a pride here, last I heard, this place was still unoccupied," you say.

"Consider it occupied. Now turn around, or follow me - you will not pass through here without Klaern knowing."

You dip your head, "Of course, but may I have your name?"

She lifts her chin proudly, "I am the All-Huntress Kysha."

"A pleasure to meet you, All-Huntress Kysha. Please, lead the way."

Kysha guides you through the jungle, weaving between between the thick vegetation. She follows a small river until the sound of crashing water meets your ears, and the foliage parts, revealing a grand clearing around a waterfall. A small pride is spread around the frothing pool.

A lion (the king, you realise), rises and trots over to meet you and Kysha. Sparks linger on his paws, tail and eyes, cresting in a burning crown, and a ratty cloth hangs across his back.

"Welcome, stranger," he rumbles, "I am Klaern. What business do you have here?"

"I'm just passing through," you say, "I'm sorry for intruding, I didn't realise there was a pride here."

Klaern tilts his head, "Consider your passage granted, but stay a while, stranger. Perhaps there is an alliance to be had."

You dip your head again, "Perhaps there is."

[piece for Sollara (#254198)]
[153 words]

Speckles was not the trusting type. He could be kind and caring, but never trustful. Not anymore.

When he was a young cub, he escaped the dutiful watch of the pride’s broodmother, encouraged by the other cubs to wander into the wilderness of the pride’s lands. He ran and jumped, enjoying the freedom.

Until laughter came over the horizon.

“Hello!” Speckles had pranced up to the hyenas, ready to play, “I’m Speckles! Nice to meet you.”

There was more laughter, and with a shriek, Speckles was sent rolling, blood falling into his eyes from the slash across his face. The hyenas advanced again, and Speckles flinched, scrambling away.

With a roar in the distance, the hyenas scattered, and the huntresses went flying after them. One separated from the group, huddling over Speckles and carefully checking him over. Speckles knew then – he could not be his mother, he would not trust so recklessly again.