asha’s head snapped toward the call, muscles going rigid beneath the golden hush of her coat. the sound rolled through the grasslands like thunder across bone — not just a roar, but a summons. loud. intentional. hungry.
her ears pinned flat for a breath, as if it might stop the heat from rising beneath her skin.
she turned sharply, eyes narrowing toward the horizon, and glanced to her sister — halisi, bright-eyed, still too unscarred by the world.
stay here, asha ordered, voice low and firm. not unkind, but immovable, like stone sunk deep in riverbed. her dim green eyes flicked over her sister’s limbs, her breath, the way her paws shifted with curiosity.
if i’m not back by sundown, follow the vulture path north. you know the one.
asha didn’t wait for argument. she moved — low at first, a ripple of muscle through grass, and then quicker, drawing her scent close to her body, weaving between the acacia trunks with purpose.
the call had come from the watering place. and whatever beast had uttered it had wanted to be found.
asha would find him.
and he would learn who she was.