anymore either. She looked suspicious.

“Me? No way!” Kopa shook his head hard.

“You promise?”

Kopa lifted a forepaw and turned it toward his chest, eyelids lowered and grinning. “Promise.”

Vitani licked her lips to get the last taste of zebra meat. She brightened up, ears flicking forward, eyes lit. “Cool.”

“Hey, you guys wanna play?” Kopa asked. He sprang to a standing position, paws splayed out.

Nuka and Vitani exchanged glances.

“Play?” Nuka scoffed.

Vitani elbowed him.

“Oof!”

“Shut up, Nuka.” Vitani circled Kopa, who turned his head to watch her with a smile. “What do you mean, play?”

“You don’t know how to play? Gimme a break!” Kopa rolled his eyes.

“Sure we do.” Vitani glanced back at Nuka. “Right?”

Nuka brightened. “Oh, yeah, sure. Right.”

Kopa arched a brow. “Great. Let’s play tag.”

They stared at him.

Kopa’s golden fur ruffled. “What? You don’t even know how to play tag?”

“Outlanders aren’t weaklings like you Pridelanders,” Nuka scowled.

Kopa lowered his eyebrows angrily. “Weaklings?”

Vitani shot a venomous glare at her brother. “He means organized.”

“No, I meant wea—”

“Whatever.” Vitani stood in front of Kopa. “Show us how.”

“Okay, it’s like this.” Kopa backed up a few steps on the dusty ground and prowled around Vitani, then he stopped, confused. “You gotta run from me.”

“Why?” Vitani scoffed. “You don’t scare me.”

“No, but it’s how you play. If I tag you—” Kopa reached out with a forepaw and poked her gently in the side, receiving a violet glare for doing so, “—you’re it.”

“What’s ‘it’?” Nuka asked, curling his lip. He scratched at his shoulder with a hind leg. “Stupid termites…”

“‘It’ means you’re the one who’s gotta chase everybody.”

“Then tag me, quick,” Vitani cried, stiffening up in front of him so that he would easily touch her.

“No no,” Kopa squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head low, shaking it rapidly. He opened his eyes and brought his head back up. Then he circled around so that he stood in front of the two Outlanders. “You don’t want to be it. You wanna get chased. Being it means you lose.”

“Oh, I get it,” Vitani said, snorting.

“I don’t.” Nuka muttered.

“You’ll get it as we go,” Kopa told him kindly. He crouched. “Okay, I’ll be it first. Ready? Set? Go!”

They stood there still staring at him.
 

Kopa straightened up and glared at them, frustrated. “That means run!”

They both jumped, startled.

“Now!”

Nuka and Vitani took off among the leaf-less bushes made of twigs, termite mounds, and the few trees stretching up like dry skeletons.

Kopa turned around in a whirl to see that they were both hidden.

Stalking on his belly, crouching as he moved like a snake, Kopa stretched himself across the dry, dusty ground. “Okay, here I come!”

Sniffing the air, he caught the rank scent he was starting to become familiar with.

Then he caught sight of a black-brown tail behind a termite mound.

“You guys’re too easy,” he said to himself softly, trotting over and climbing onto the mound, hooking his forepaws over the top and pulling himself up to poke his head over the side.

Nuka sat hunched there, being quiet except for scratching at his pelt constantly.

Kopa blew air out of his mouth upward in a scoff, making his tuft of brown hair-fur fly up and then settle back down on his head.

He reached down and jabbed Nuka’s shoulder. “Hey, you’re it!”

Nuka whirled around and hit his nose on the termite mound. Grumbling with his eyes squeezed shut; he edged out from behind the termite mound, pawing at his nose.

“Hey, Vitani!” Kopa called. “Come out—Nuka’s it, we’re starting over!”

Nuka followed Kopa to the clearing.

Vitani trotted prettily out from behind a tree. She was frowning. “This’s boring—you didn’t even look for me!”

“Actually,” Kopa said, “I wasn’t s’posed to look for you. You gotta spread out and then I chase you and tag you.”

“So why didn’t y’chase me?” Nuka grumbled.

“Because you didn’t even know I was there. Why should I chase you?”

“If I knew, I woulda ran.” Kopa muttered.

“Yeah, right!” Vitani grunted. “He could catch you any day.”

“Could not!”

“Could too!”

“Not!”

“Could!”

“Not!”

“Could!

“You guys!” Kopa snarled. “Knock it off. Let’s play it right this time, okay? Nuka—you’re it.”

Nuka mimicked Kopa’s words in a high pitched mumble that was incoherent. Then he crouched, grinning.

“Run!” Kopa cackled, whirling around while looking at Nuka over his shoulder, grinning as he nudged Vitani forward.

Vitani let out a tomboy giggle and hurtled toward the lifeless bushes. Kopa followed her.

Nuka set off after them.

Vitani was first into the bushes. Kopa ducked under. Nuka couldn’t squeeze through, thorns on the twiglike bush pricking at him from all sides. He was stuck in the thicket.

Kopa’s head turned forward and his smile fell when he heard a squeal.

“Help!” Vitani cried.
 

She was stuck in some black goo.

Kopa stared, horrified. Then he moved forward to wade into the goo and help her.
 

But Vitani let out a cubbified roar and growled, “No—it’s tar—get back, you’ll get sucked in too!”

Kopa sprang away. “What do we do? Nuka—get in here!”

“And do what? I’m a little tangled!” Nuka whined behind him. “What’s wrong now?”

“Vitani’s stuck in—” Kopa casually leaned down to ask Vitani, who was up to her shoulders now, sinking rapidly, “—what’s it called again?”

“Tar.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Kopa turned back to Nuka. “She’s stuck in tar. What do I do?”

Nuka’s eyes popped open. “Tar?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay, right? She can just wiggle out.”

“Are you nuts? She’s a cub! And a runty one too. She’ll never get out before it sucks her in.” He didn’t sound too worried about that.

Kopa stiffened. “What happens then?” he asked, frantic.

“Uh, what am I, a hornbill? I don’t know! I’ve never died!”

Kopa’s blood ran cold. He pranced on the shore of the tar pit, moving rapidly and resituating himself, panting hard. “O-Okay, Vitani, stay calm. We’ll get you outta there!”

“Hurry!” Vitani choked out. The tar was all around her, up to the base of her neck.

Kopa glanced around. “Okay, just let me…” he tried to step closer.

“No!” Vitani shrieked.

Kopa remembered her earlier warning and stepped away again. “Nuka…” he growled.

“I’m busy here!” Nuka snapped. He was still trying to back out of the thicket—and away from the tar pit and his sinking sister.

“Hang on, Vitani,” Kopa muttered worriedly. He looked around again, and then spied a tree with a long, outstretched, dry branch.

He immediately climbed up the tree and tried creeping out onto the branch.

Nuka was watching with lowered eyelids from his poky position in the thornbush. “Y’know,” he said dryly, “that tree’s dead.”

Kopa ignored the ignorant teenage lion and continued edging out onto the end of the branch.

It snapped. Kopa plummeted.

When he hit the ground—hard—Kopa stood, dazed, and shook himself. The branch lay broken at his paws.

“Hey, Kopa,” Nuka sneered, “that tree is dead.”

“Shut. Up.” Kopa thrust his head in Nuka’s face and growled, then turned back around to check on Vitani.

He choked back a gasp. Only Vitani’s head and tail stuck out of the gooey black mass.

“When you’ve got time, Your Highness,” Vitani grunted, trying to keep her head up.

“I’m coming!” Kopa grabbed the branch in his teeth and held the other end out toward Vitani’s mouth. “G’ab ick!” he said, mouth muffled.

“What?” Vitani snapped, terrified and angry.

Kopa dropped the stick. “Grab it.”

The end stretching toward Vitani dipped into the tar.

“Kopa!” she shrieked.

“Sorry!” Kopa picked up his end of the branch and edged toward the tar pit, claws just touching the black goo, holding the other end of the stick out as far as he could toward her.

Vitani grabbed the stick between her teeth and then tried moving her paws up through the tar. It was like swimming in a mass of honey—the tar was too sticky and clumped to allow her paws to move upward.

“Jus’ g’ab ick wif yer mouf!” Kopa