This one had me torn two ways. If I get far enough with my proposal for work, I’ll create the other one at supper time.
Her thoughts, like most lion thoughts are of survival. She looks out across the grassland, no cover really. Yet she must make it across there without the new male realising where she is going. Fast on the Turn, she had to be fast and secretive now.
It has been weeks now since their previous senior male, tangled mane had died. A kick from a giraffe had hurt him badly and while he was still bleeding this young upstart had found him and killed him. Taking the pride as his.
She knew it happened, but she had only see it once, when her father had been taken by tangle mane. Her father had been old and counselled all the females on what to do at the time. Their very young cubs had all been killed, as is the custom when a new male takes over. All of the pride’s efforts must go into propagating and supporting his progeny.
She had been old enough to be seen as part of the hunters, and so had avoided slaughter. When she finally became a mother it was to tangle mane. He had been a good father, tolerant of little ones climbing on him and snuggling up to him for comfort. He had been a good male, until that mistake over the giraffe.
Now all was wrong. This male, black mane, was evil. Not only the little cubs had been killed, but a female, giving birth privately had been tracked down by him, and not only her cubs killed, but she too. Fast on the Turn had come across the bodies, with him standing over them growling.
His rampage of slaughter had not stopped. He seemed unable to take his brain from killing, to procreating and protecting. The first female who came into season had been so badly mauled by him she had died.
So now Fast on the Turn is escaping, moving away. Yesterday while out on the edge of the hunting party, her normal place because of her speed, she had smelled a strange male. Just a slight scent, but enough to tell her that this was a young male, probably without a pride as yet. Well they could start a pride. She and he. And any of the others of her old pride who can escape. But they will have to move fast, far enough away that black mane won’t find them.
She looks out at the waving grass, ready to start making her new life. Remembering the area, so that they won’t be back here for a while.