[3rd POV]
(3 months later)
(3 years old)
The long dry season lasts four months in the Serengeti. Four long and hot months where the ground cracked open like old skin and the air was filled with dust. The sun felt burning in this time of the year with the grass turning yellow and brittle. The trees stood bare and rivers shrank to leave behind muddy swamps and dead silence.
But the ruthless season was slowly coming to an end. It started raining again a month ago. It was not frequent or pouring but the rain brought much-needed moisture to the dry region.
The thirsty land soaked in every drop of rain and life was slowly returning back in the Serengeti. The terrains shed their yellow straws and new life, the colour of green, sprouted where the dead once stood.
The bare trees were also sprouting new leaves. Vegetation and vines were slowly covering their nakedness again in a beautiful dress of green.
After a month had passed, the land had gone through a complete rebirth. The Serengeti was ready to support life once more. The grassy plains were begging herds to come and graze.
But none came yet. For the herds had not returned from their migration to the northern Maasai Mara region. Although I knew from Grim and the gossip in the air that the thousands of herds were slowly making their way back to the Serenegti.
So basically, every life in the Serengeti was in the middle of transitioning from the ruthless dry season back to the wet season, where resources were plentiful. It was akin to witnessing hell turning into heaven.
My eyes fluttered open when irritated by direct sunlight. I tensed my relaxed muscles to push myself above the tall grasses where I slept.
I long and wide yawn escaped my jaws. I took a look at my surroundings while I shook off the remnants of sleep on my body.
I was in an open plain where tall grasses grew. The place was slightly damp from the early dew but coupled with the heat of the sun, it made for a cosy place to sleep.
A few weeks ago, I left my home in the kopje. I did this because of the buffalo, which were my main source of food at this point.
The wet season was beginning, which means that the buffalo did not need to scatter in small herds anymore. As the lands turned green with vegetation, the splintered herds were slowly regrouping again to form a bigger herd.
A herd that would number in the thousands.
Every Buffalo was moving to the north. According to Grim, they were heading to the main channel of the Mara River. This place had the biggest source of water and food, so the buffalo gathered here to regroup in other years as well.
But as the buffalo moved towards the main channel of the Mara River, they were moving further and further away from my home. It was at this point that I decided to leave my home in favour of following my prey.
That did not mean I was abandoning my kopje though. I would return in a later date when the herds came back from their migration and I could hunt other prey.
But at the moment, I need to follow my protein.
I heard a flutter of feathers behind me. I did not react as it was routine at this point, "Good morning, Grim,"
"Good morning, my Lord," Grim answered.
"Any news?" I asked while stretching my body like a cat. Like I said before, strength was good but not at the cost of my agility or flexibility. I was not a bear but a cat. No matter how big or muscular I get, I need to maintain my nature as a cat because cats are the perfect natural design of what a predator should be.
"The zebra herds had made it to the Mara River. The crocodiles are awakening from their slumber and sharpening their teeth. The great crossing of the river is underway," Grim said.
I hummed in acknowledgement. The Mara River was a vital part of our ecosystem and it was also a river that separates the Serengeti and the Maasai Mara. During the dry season, the herds had no trouble crossing this river as it was small and had barely any water.
But as the rain fell and the herds were coming back from their migration, the river swelled up and increased in size. What used to be a small stream during the dry season had become a raging river that could drown a full-grown wildebeest upon their return.
I'm sure I've seen videos of this crossing back in my past life. I have never seen it before but I could already picture it in my mind.
"On other news, the Mbali brothers fought off their seventh challenger this month," Grim said.
"They've been getting so many challengers recently," I commented.
"Well of course, the end of the dry season is the time when most rogues will challenge the kings. The dry season takes its toll on every creature, including the kings. They are in their weakest state right now since it's been a long four months and the herds have not yet reached central Serengeti for them to hunt and regain their strength," Grim said.
"The challengers also know this and are trying their luck," Grim said.
"And how has that been going for them?" I asked.
"Every challenger has met a worse fate than the last. I think the kings are getting annoyed," Grim answered.
I chuckled at that. The Mbali brothers were all powerful lions in their prime, with their coalition even more so. If the lion I killed a few months back was the quality of the challenger, then I'm afraid ten of them wouldn't do the job of beating the brothers.
That was one of the things I learned over the past few months when I encountered other rogue males. The Mbali brothers were leagues above the average lion. It was funny how I thought Roku was an average male lion when in truth, he could probably take two.
I really met the final bosses at the start. I'm honestly kind of awesome for surviving till now.
The morning continued as usual. Grim gave me more news while I stretched my body and trained. At this point, he was for me what Zazu was for my father. No, he was even better.
After that was out of the way, I continued my journey. The buffalo had covered much ground while I was sleeping like a baby, so I had to catch up again. It's been two days since I last ate, so I needed to think about my next hunt as well.
After two hours had passed, I caught up with the herd of buffalo that I had been following. Initially, the herd only consisted of 31 members but on our journey, the herd had been joined by smaller herds and they now numbered close to 200.
But after we caught up with the herd, Grim flew down and gave a new proposal. "My Lord, should we stop here today? I just want to say that if we maintain this pace, I predict that we will be able to reach the main channel of the Marar River by the end of the day."
I contemplated for a while. I did not have to hunt today, and I was far from hungry after the hefty meal I had two days ago. In the end, I wanted to reach the river as soon as possible instead of delaying it for another day.
"Let's go," I said and then we left the herd for the river.
It was not a tiring journey. I was only walking at a moderate pace for the whole day. The buffalo were just slow since they had to graze while they moved.
In the end, just like Grim had predicted, we managed to reach the river by the end of the day. The sun was dull orange by then, but there was still an hour or so before complete darkness.
The first thing I noticed when I reached there was not the water or the swelling river.
It was the sound.
The sound of ten thousand creatures in one place. There was no specific sound or rhythm. It was a loud booming noise. The vibration affected the ground itself. I could feel a pulse beneath my paws.
After I pushed through the last stretch of tall grass and crested a small slope, I finally got a view of the land below.
"This is..." The rest of the sentence got stuck in my throat.
Upon looking at the horizon, the sound suddenly made sense to me. In fact, I would argue that the sound did not tell enough about the sheer life that was breathing in the riverbanks of the Mara River.
What was once a muddy little stream during the dry season had swollen into something monstrous and ancient. It twisted through the land like a great serpent, wide and dark, its surface rippling with powerful current.
And along the riverbanks, including the land near the rivers, were filled to the brim with migrating animals. Antelopes, Zebras, Wildebeests, Gazelles, etc.
They stretched as far as the eye could see. They looked like endless ants from the high ground I was standing upon. They moved in waves, snorting and stamping.
I looked around and noticed a herd of buffalo not too far from the river as well. The herd that I was following before were nothing compared to the thousands that were grazing in the land.
Upon seeing such a sight, it was hard not to feel small. Like I was only a small part of a grander design.
But after that moment of humility, pride and greed returned tenfold. How incredible would it to to own this massive region and the ecosystem?
How incredible would it be to be able to hunt any prey that I desired from the endless stretch of numbers?
For a moment, it made me want to run back home and fight the kings of the Siringet pride and make this my kingdom.
I went down to the riverbanks to witness everything up close. The closer I got to the river, the softer the earth got. It was wet and the relentless stamping from thousands of hooves had made it mud-like.
The animals flee upon seeing me. So I was able to reach the riverbanks without much trouble at all.
After that, I walked alongside the river. I followed the current and gazed carefully at the water that holds the infamous Nile Crocodile.
I spent some time like that. Watching life unfold in front of my eyes. I even watched a small herd of Zebras cross the river.
The crocodiles that live in the water were the last thing the animal had to worry about. It was the strong current of the river, along with the slippery river bed, that caused the most deaths.
The zebras jumped into the river one by one. The water exploded as their collective shriek filled the air.
The river looked like it was boiling with the movement of a hundred zebras. The river splashed frantically and soon enough, the sound of helpless cries filled the air. The current took the life of the weaker zebras and drowned them in its depths.
Not just the current, in moments of panic, the zebras became their own enemy as they pushed each other down and knocked each other away.
Many of them drowned without ever making it across the river. The crocodiles did not even have to kill, they waited further down the river and tore into the dead bodies in seconds.
"What an amazingly ruthless world I live in," I said while watching the scene unfold.
But in that moment, a sound disturbed me. It was incredibly hard to notice with all the other sounds, but this one was distinct.
A roar was always distinct to a lion's ear.
The Mara River was too noisy to analyse the roar. I got curious, so I followed the sound of the roar. After my first encounter with another rogue, I was not too shy to confront them anymore. I knew they were all weak as shit.
After nearly half an hour of walking, I still could not find the lion. The sun was already blood red right above the mountains. I was thinking about giving up but then, I finally saw the lion I was looking for.
But fortunately or unfortunately, the lion was on the opposite side of the river. There was around 40 metres of raging, flowing water that separated us. The thought of crossing the river never even crossed my mind.
I think the other lion was also the same. But we were still curious about each other, so we walked until we were at the same place on both sides of the river.
It was hard to see him clearly, but I still saw enough to know that he was injured. There was no sign of a pride nearby, and the roar he just let out was not that of a patrolling king.
If I had to guess, he was a lion that just failed to take over a pride. And no, not the Siringet pride. The land beyond the river was the Maasai Mara.
So the lion was from Maasai Mara, and he just failed to take over a pride from that region, not ours. It was like we were from completely different countries but we met on the border courtesy of the migrating prey.
I tilted my head and squinted to get a better look. The lion was quite huge, definitely bigger than Roku and Makali, but smaller than Baraka. I know I said that rogues were weak just now but I did not think the lion I was looking at was weak by any means.
Although he was injured, he carried himself with something regal. Like he made a deal with destiny, and he knew that his recent loss was just a part of his success and not a failure. It was hard to put into words.
We stared at each other for a while. Neither of us made a sound and just observed each other. He was sizing me up just as I was sizing him.
There was an odd sense of familiarity.
But we didn't have much time as the sun was already sinking halfway into the mountains. I never got to find out why he felt so odd and familiar to me.
The only thing I know is that when the lion turned his head and the rays of the setting sun hit him just right, you could see a grave wound just above his right eye.
The injury would no doubt turn into a scar even his fur couldn't hide.
I will try and remember him with that in case we meet again. A lion with a scar on his right eye.
A Scarface lion.
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[IMAGE]
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PS : On the other side, Scarface probably noticed Leo's small tail and will remember him as the lion without a tail.
Author : In case anyone is confused, Scarface is probably the most famous lion in the world. You might wanna do some research of you don't know him.
After the time skip, next arc is the long awaited take over.