rise. She looked on for a few moments as he ran off into the moonlight. Then she joined her mother in the hollow below.

“What happened out there this afternoon Falana?”

“Nothing,” she said with a shrug, “We saw his rock. We came back. That’s all. Oh yes, and we had a visitation from Elizabeth. Nothing else happened. You know what Nothing’s like.”

“Well something else happened Falana. I’m not so old as not to notice these things. Stop calling him Nothing - you do know he’s attracted to you don’t you?”

Falana looked incredulously at her mother. Not because she didn’t believe her, but because she couldn’t believe that her own mother could have entertained such a thought. Nengwalamwe was the last lion, if indeed he could in truth be called a lion at all, that Falana would let get close to her. The thought of his silken mane surging and enveloping her shoulders as his teeth points gripped her neck filled her with revulsion.

“No way mother! He’s not the slightest bit interested in me - thankfully. How could you even think that?”

Shaha looked at her daughter and wondered. What had she done to her? What did she still have to do? How could more generations of great lion than anyone could remember end with Falana? Would they end with a cynical sneer, or would they grow anew from a contented growl and a gentle tongue drawn through soft, warm, welcoming fur?

“I may be old, but I am your mother and I know you Falana…” Shaha bore deep into Falana. “Oh yes, I know you.”

Falana’s eyes lit up with a fire kindled deep within from years of frustration. Moments later it broke free from its bonds and engulfed her. She turned on Shaha, lashing violently at her mother’s head with unsheathed foreclaws. Lunging forward, her teeth touched and instantly penetrated her mother’s neck. Shaha fell helpless, kicking out with her hindlegs desperately. Falana twisted over her mother, pinning her forelegs. Bringing her free forepaw crashing down on to Shaha’s exposed shoulder, she bit harder. Shaha roared out in intense, biting pain until the pressure of Falana’s jaws stole her breath.

Shaha’s hindlegs couldn’t make contact with her attacker; they ached and grew heavier with every ineffectual thrust. Falana knew what she was doing; she was doing what her mother had taught her to do when taking down a kill: hold on tight and keep out of the way. She knew it was only a matter of time - time that was inexorably flowing out of Shaha in runnels of rich, fur-matting crimson.

The world grew confused for Shaha. She heard a laugh; a distant, self-amused laugh. She felt the pressure ease….

When she awoke, she wasn’t alone. She felt a warm tongue on her neck. She opened her eyes. It was light, a little after dawn. Mind numbing pain shot through her haunch. Her neck throbbed and burned. She barely felt the dampness left by the tongue. She knew she was lucky to be alive, had she been a wildebeest she knew that she’d have succumbed to Falana. Something had saved her, though she could not tell what, all she knew was that by some miracle Falana was licking her wounds clean.

“I heard fighting. I had to make sure you weren’t hurt. I came as soon as I could. Who was it? Yali’s father or some of his lionesses? Whoever it was, they weren’t messing about weren’t they?”

“Nengwe?” she said weakly, trying to lift her head, “Nengwalamwe?”

“Yes, Shaha, it’s me. Don’t try to get up. You’re not going anywhere while I’m around, do you hear?”

“Where’s Falana?”

“I don’t know, I’ve not seen her since yesterday.”

Shaha failed in her struggle with gravity and let her head drop back on to the ground. Her forelegs draped limply over the ground to one side, her side rose and fell with difficult. Nengwalamwe looked at her almost lifeless form and wondered what could have brought her down. He still felt distant from her; her near-dead state was something he could not comprehend. He kept on wondering when she would get up and walk off, shaking her legs to improve circulation. He knew she was very old, and he supposed that that might have had something to do with her not recovering quickly. That she might so easily have died was not something that entered the young lion’s mind.

“Shaha, you don’t look so good. You’d better get some rest.”

She looked at him weakly and without moving said weekly, “Nengwe, without you I might have died.”

“No Shaha, no one’s going to die while I’m around.”

“We all have to go when it’s our time. It’s not my time yet. I know that - not yet. A mandrill told me that once, a very special mandrill.”

“Yeah? I bet he did. What was he like?”

“Old… his time had come. He called me Shaha you know. He always used to make me laugh. When I was a cub, I used to laugh all the time. There’s not much to laugh at here these days. It’s all gone….”

Nengwalamwe wanted to hear what had gone, but as Shaha finished, her eyes closed and her breath deepened. Nengwalamwe watched her, and seeing her drift once more into sleep, he lay down beside her but did not sleep. Instead, he spent the whole of the burning day in the open beside Shaha; watching and waiting as above the ever thickening clouds rolled by.

 

***

 

No animals ventured close until late in the afternoon. A leopardess loped over, probably attracted by the smell of blood. She took one look at Nengwalamwe and stopped dead. She looked disappointed as though she had expected easy pickings. She seemed to sense that the lion wasn’t going to move from the injured lioness’s side and after a few moments of twitching ears and tail, she sat back calmly and even found time to lick her forepaw. Nengwalamwe raised his fur, growled and bared his teeth at her, yet trying not to wake Shaha. The leopardess sat and washed for a while, casting hopeful glances at the lions. She lost interest in time and walked off, smiling and smirking cruelly.

 

***

 

Nengwalamwe woke with a start. It was almost dark and he couldn’t remember seeing the sunset. Shaha still lay beside him in the same position she had been in all day. She was still, her breathing regular and deep. Her wounds had stopped bleeding and peered back at Nengwalamwe angrily.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” he said without thinking.

“Oh, lioness nothing huh?”

“Sort of, not that it’s any of your business.” Nengwalamwe could hardly believe he was having this conversation. He felt almost surreal sense of detachment about it.

“Don’t be like that, I’m your friend, remember?”

“I’m sorry. Have you ever met Shaha?”

“Well, I guess I have now,” said Yali, sniffing the sleeping lioness.

“She wanted to know why I’m here. Now I might never be able to tell her. She seems to think I… err… ‘fancy’ Falana, or something. Did your parents ever ask you what you wanted, but you didn’t know?”

“No, not that I can remember. Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“You know...”

“*What? Yali, what are you talking about?”

“...you know - like Falana?”

“Well… sure I like her.” He pictured her walking over the open plain. It was midday and her fur shone in the piercing sun. She slipped by effortlessly; her paws seeming to float over the ground. Her tail gracefully followed her, forming one smooth continuous sinuous curve with her back. Nengwalamwe could almost feel the warmth of her fur and smelt her scent that needed no bush to be an effective marker. She broke into a run, glancing over toward him, but she wasn’t smiling, and she wasn’t hunting. She was afraid but resolute. Nengwalamwe felt pleased about that, for at last Falana was shown to be as vulnerable as everyone else.

A movement brought him back to reality. Shaha was stretching out a little in her sleep; she seemed to be feeling more relaxed. Nengwalamwe felt a little more at ease.

 “And you want cubs don’t you. Like me?”

“Like you? I don’t think I could cope with that, you’re too much for me Yali. I’d never know where you were from one moment to the next.” Then he thought further, spurred on by the feeling of Shaha’s fur at his back. “Cubs? Well, you know… I never really thought about them.”

“Isn’t that what all lions and lionesses want - cubs of their own?”

“Hey, it isn’t that simple - I suppose I’d be happy with Falana, and if cubs come along… well, they do I guess.”

“You’re like my dad, he never really wanted cubs.”

“No, surely? What father wouldn’t want you?”

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong Silly! He said that he didn’t want cubs before he met mother, then he did.”

“I see. Well, I think I do.”

“So, that’s why you hang around here. You want Falana to be your pride, don’t you?”

“Maybe… I guess you could be right. You know I’d never thought of that, but then it’ll never work - she hates me. But what else can I do? I came here to save my life. Now I’m

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