Shenzi

a hyena's belly is never full

Shenzi had woken in an ill mood, following a restless night. The wind had howled across the desert sands, disturbing her sleep and stirring up memories that haunted her with phantom voices in the dark. Nevertheless, when her young son had stirred just before dawn, after scanning the horizon and picking up on nothing amiss, Shenzi had directed him to find his way to the nearest waterhole.

"Go on, Jaziri, I’ll be just behind you.” She had been teaching him to take note of the features of the terrain, to learn how to pick up scents, and what to look for in changes of the weather.

What she had not foreseen was her equally restless daughter, who pranced up alongside his little brother and nudged playfully at his shoulder, trying to draw him into play. "Zuri!” she snapped, intervening and lunging for after her daughter, chasing her off with an irritable snort. She squealed in mock fright, knowing that her mother would never harm her, and then scampered off, no doubt in search of the Desert Queen’s daughter, who was so alike her mother in appearance.

"Focus,” Shenzi murmured, drawing up alongside her youngest and bestowing a gentle yet brief caress on the curve of his small cheek. "The season is changing, and yet the days will still be hot for a while yet. After you’ve had a drink you can go off and play if you wish, but stay where I can see you.”

Letting her boy take the lead again, and trailing after him in whatever direction he ventured from where they had sheltered overnight on the leeward side of a rocky hill. Patiently, she continued at her son’s pace, and when she caught sight of the waterhole, with Jaziri having found his way in time, she reached out to lip at the fluffy strands of his tail in a teasing tweak. "Race you!” she prompted, lurching forward, though she held back to allow him to pull ahead.

Skidding to a halt at the water’s edge, Shenzi glanced around while Jaziri slaked his thirst, and then she dropped her own head, to send a splash of water his way, before taking a moment to drink, and then lifting her head content for Jaziri to wander off, or to linger close. Tilting her muzzle into the wind, she caught the mingled scents of the small desert herd, picking out Nyimara’s instantly.

Ears turning back slightly as she settled on the damp sand, she found her thoughts drifting, and as they did, her mood shifted again, becoming contemplative and serious, bordering on brooding.

scarred seal brown survivor of salem