Golden Sands. When Zira was cub and made a pranky trip on the desert, she made it to here. If not a local source and I didn’t find her quickly, she would be dead.” He threw memories away when he noticed what pathetic remnants remained from once great oasis. Instead of <The Last Oasis> it should be written: <The Last Cluster>. From sand was growing just a bunch of green-yellowish stalks of desert thistle and in place that once had been running a source then was just a pool of half-dried mud. “Well, better that than salt from Border River.” Murmured Golden King silently.

And Taka fell down and submerged his muzzle into stinking slime. For few minutes he was staying motionless, absorbing with fur that pleasant moisture. Then stood up and with both paws started to dig the mud in order to find some water. Fortunately quickly got to stock of liquid. He submerged his muzzle into wet darkness and once again that day dme is waiting for me?” Thought but then even his thoughts he hid deeply. He couldn’t afford constant disruption of  uneasy mind. He had at least five days of way before him. Or less, if he would died on route, what after few hours of marching turned to him as a tempting perspective.

Sun raised up from east and quickly climbed on the sky, going to northern part of firmament. Wind was blowing weakly, however it was causing a clouds of dusk that was soaring his nose and mouth. Taka had eyes shut – he was guided by burning sun from above and saw it through eyelids. But also he was led by ancient instinct of desert wanderer. And additionally he was guided by someone else, however he didn’t know that.

“Just great!” was murmuring Sparthi, walking next to grand-nephew. “You have a quarter of golden lion’s blood in your veins, but won’t help too much if you have no water in your stomach.”

Even if black-maned took a look aside, he wouldn’t saw dead Golden King. King from the Past was calmly staring on his kin, didn’t try to establish any contact – as a patron of desert wanderers he had many duties and was limited by numerous prohibitions. He couldn’t even help Taka with his heavenly might, because it would be transgressing the laws of Circle. So he was just looking, but it’s good to remember that sight of Ancient Ones is much sharper than ours. Sparthi saw not only weary and hobbling silhouette of Zira’s grandson but he was able to look inside dehydrated organism. Living lion was marching with remnants of his strength and dehydration and impossibility of removal of toxin from his tired body was pushing lion to the edge of consciousness. Until dusk there were still three long hours that Taka had to walk through or at least to stay in shelter, without falling in deadly sleep.

Sparthi was unable to do anything. With the wind he was just whispering the words of encouragement but lion, focused on his slow march was ignoring them. “And good.” Thought desert patron. „Let him go. If he survive this way it means that he is strong. He will survive! He is grandson of Zira! This will be a sign that the Circle of Life has chosen him to important quest.” And Golden King was right – in spite of dizziness, burning cuts on paw-pads and body, boiling with its own toxins, about an hour before sunset Taka got to Far Oasis.

“That means...” thought Sparthi with bitterness. “This was once <The Last Oasis>, a part of Golden Sands. When Zira was cub and made a pranky trip on the desert, she made it to here. If not a local source and I didn’t find her quickly, she would be dead.” He threw memories away when he noticed what pathetic remnants remained from once great oasis. Instead of <The Last Oasis> it should be written: <The Last Cluster>. From sand was growing just a bunch of green-yellowish stalks of desert thistle and in place that once had been running a source then was just a pool of half-dried mud. “Well, better that than salt from Border River.” Murmured Golden King silently.

And Taka fell down and submerged his muzzle into stinking slime. For few minutes he was staying motionless, rank to full. That water was dirty, but fresh. Few litres that Taka was able to suck turned out to be saving for weary wanderer. Sweat that came after that instantly expulsed most of toxins from lion’s body and dried throat felt great relief. Black-maned wanted to fall asleep there, still bended over waterhole, but he gathered his strength and covered source with gravel. He didn’t expect that until morning oasis would be able to restore the water-stock for next drink, but he thought about the others wanderers. He couldn’t destroy that last chance for thirsty ones and if there was a possibility or even slightest chance that waterhole would gather some moisture during upcoming week, Taka had to help it.

“Cheers!” he whispered to unknown, future user of oasis. Then he laid down in shade of thorny bushes and instantly feel asleep.

Moon raised up on northern sky and enlighten with faint light the desert isle. Quickly it turn to be colder but in times of drought every cold was welcomed. Through sleep, lion smiled when cool wind from desert made him to roll into ball. The colder it was the slower he was losing water of his body. And every water was as worth its weight in gold and meant life. Taka was not afraid to die, seeing no way before him. But the Circle let him survive his first day of exile, like it was preparing some important path for black-maned.

“Well, my boy, indeed you are the tough one.” Whispered Sparthi with serious admire. Ghost was standing next to thistle bushes, over the sleeping lion. Then he bended down and friendly nudged his shoulder. “But this was just a one day. We aren’t even in quarter of the way. You must recall the legacy of Desert Lion. Recall that heritage that you have taken from your grandmother.”

Sleeping Taka nodded his head.

 

 

II. Dry sands

 

Taka got to the Golden Sands on evening, five days after leaving Prideland. In theory, he could been there one day earlier, if he was going normal rate of march. But for previous foutry eight hours he had been not marching but crawling. Literally – sandstorm that burst in middle of way, forced wanderer to taking many sections of route on his kneels, nestled into sandy surface. Usually Taka was resting in pans between dunes then he crawled to the top of hill, fighting the overwhelming wind and going downhill to next shelter. In those days he drank almost nothing. Only a few times he managed to finds some rock piles, where under stones he found rests of dew. But dry wind of desert finally took away even that simple source of liquids. As a last resort, lion tried to chew roots of desert thistle – at first to suck every drop of juice from it, then just to stimulate salivary gland. Finally he was ruminating bitter sprout to cut his gums and drinking blood, trying to ease own thirst.

During one of stops (he found a dense cluster of cactuses, where he spent most of day. Thanks to that he was able to walk during the next night) he thought airily, wearing out whole is stock of optimism: “Because of that thirst felt great relief. Black-maned wanted to fall asleep there, still bended over waterhole, but he gathered his strength and covered source with gravel. He didn’t expect that until morning oasis would be able to restore the water-stock for next drink, but he thought about the others wanderers. He couldn’t destroy that last chance for thirsty ones and if there was a possibility or even slightest chance that waterhole would gather some moisture during upcoming week, Taka had to help it.

“Cheers!” he whispered to unknown, future user of oasis. Then he laid down in shade of thorny bushes and instantly feel asleep.

Moon raised up on northern sky and enlighten with faint light the desert isle. Quickly it turn to be colder but in times of drought every cold was welcomed. Through sleep, lion smiled when cool wind from desert made him to roll into ball. The colder it was the slower he was losing water of his body. And every water was as worth its weight in gold and meant life. Taka was not afraid to die, seeing no way before him. But the Circle let him survive his first day of exile, like it was preparing some important path for black-maned.

“Well, my boy, indeed you are the tough one.” Whispered Sparthi with serious admire. Ghost was standing next to thistle bushes, over the sleeping lion. Then he bended down and friendly nudged his shoulder. “But this was just a one day. We aren’t even in quarter of the way. You must recall the legacy of Desert Lion. Recall that heritage that you have taken from your grandmother.”

Sleeping Taka nodded his head.

 

 

II. Dry sands

 

Taka got to the Golden Sands on evening, five days after leaving Prideland. In theory, he could been there one day earlier, if he was going normal rate of march. But for previous foutry eight hours he had been not marching but crawling. Literally – sandstorm that burst in middle of way, forced wanderer to taking many sections of route on his kneels, nestled into sandy surface. Usually Taka was resting in pans between dunes then he crawled to the top of hill, fighting the overwhelming wind and going downhill to next shelter. In those days he drank almost nothing. Only a few times he managed to finds some rock piles, where under stones he found rests of dew. But dry wind of desert finally took away even that simple source of liquids. As a last resort, lion tried to chew roots of desert thistle – at first to suck every drop of juice from it, then just to stimulate salivary gland. Finally he was ruminating bitter sprout to cut his gums and drinking blood, trying to ease own thirst.

t I feel no hunger!” And that was true – his stomach was too tired to call for meat.

Taka was marching in so dimmed state of mind, that

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