Word travelled as easily as a spore on the breeze; with Asha's voice had come the recognition of Uhuru as King, a declaration that had already been anticipated by the burly hunter. He claimed as much himself as he sought to familiarize himself with not only the land, but those who hunted there. Her interests in the man were as numerous as her doubts- a balance she hoped to tip in favour of the former, with time. And while Kings were good for making cubs, others were just as skilled at killing them. To save them all from the grief that lasted generations, she had to trust that Asha had chosen well in finding a man who could not only sire healthy cubs, but protect them as well.

Still spattered by the blood of the juvenile crocodile she had slain in the shallows of the watering hole, she sat up when she heard the man's voice ring out again. She wasn't keen to share her prize, and wished for a moment that she had the skill of a leopard- so she might hide her kill in the boughs of a marula tree. The two vultures hulking nearby might still find it there so, rather than leaving her meal to the raven-winged scavengers, she answered the man with a short, grunt-like call, picked the three foot crocodile carcass up and began dragging it along with her.

Curiosity might kill her one day, but she sure as hell wasn't going to let it make her give her meal to the vultures today.