[1st POV]
"Nothing gives me more joy than just sitting here and watching them grow," Zael said as we watched the sun rise on the horizon.
The world was still bathed in morning sunlight; it was not quite dark yet, not quite day either. But the cubs were already playing like it was midday. Playfighting seemed to be the main source of their amusement.
It was understandable. After all, they were from two different prides, and one must know which cubs were stronger.
"You talk like an old beast." I shook my head. "It was only yesterday that you were no older than they."
"Don't make jokes, Father. That was years ago," he said.
Years ago. It was strange how animals age. It had not even been a decade, and yet here we were, acting like grumpy old men. Even adding my previous life as a human, which I could barely remember, I was not yet 30.
But still, we both had fought battles to last centuries.
"I am glad we get to see each other again one last time," he said, turning to me. His mane. His glorious mane that was dark as night. I used to have pride in that, thinking that he inherited it from me even though we shared no blood.
That dark mane always made me connect with him physically. He was my son.
But now, that dark mane was light in colour, a sign of a lack of testosterone. He no longer had that fight in him, and it showed in his appearance. His light mane was also thinning and looked ragged, like it had not been combed for years.
"What do you mean, one last time?"
"My time is coming soon," he said. "I shall fall in the next battle. If not, then surely in the next one. I can fight against those ambitious youngsters only for so long."
He twisted his body, and I saw a wound on him that was barely healed. It was already black with what looked like an infection.
"This was a wound I got months ago. I no longer heal like I used to."
I gritted my teeth, my throat releasing a growl of anger when looking at my wounded son.
"No need to feel anything. It is just the way of nature. As you taught me, it is the circle of life," he said.
"My journey in this world is coming to an end," he turned away, looking at his pride, "But I feel like I've left a permanent mark in the world. A legacy that would live longer than I."
"I hope it made you proud, Father. It certainly has made me proud."
"Of course," I said, "You've always been my pride."
"Do you want to come with me?" I asked after a while, "Come with me to the Pridelands. You fought for it, and you have more right than anyone to live your remaining days there."
"And what shall be of my own pride?" He shook his head. "I can't leave them. I need to at least see my youngest turn a year old. I would let them grow old enough to be spared in case of a takeover. Until then, I continue my fight."
"I am king and will remain so until I fall."
Prideful creatures lions were.
"Then so be it," I said, pushing my head into his, and he reciprocated the affection.
"Nevertheless, I am glad," Zael said, "to see you again and to see you so strong. I can feel that no green challengers, a dozen they may be, will be capable of taking you down."
I scoffed. "Of course. My dominance has shrunk, but it remains unchanged."
"I guess the higher the peak, the longer the fall," Zael said. "I would do anything to see you in your glory once more. Can you tell me what you used to say after killing a new coalition of challengers?"
I laughed out loud, remembering those days. "I have yet to earn breakfast."
"What a sight that was," he laughed. "You would return, covered in four different bloods and scents. And you would declare that it was such a small conflict that you feel like you haven't even earned the right to breakfast yet."
"I can still do that."
"I am sure," he said. "I have never doubted your strength for a long time."
We watched the sun rise in content silence. The sun was rising on a land whose every corner we have seen. At this point, it could be said that we have seen everything life has to offer a lion.
There was nothing new anymore.
So for once, we can just relax. Without that itching for adventure or new things, for we have seen them all, done them all.
"Is it truly your wish to see it again?" I asked after the long stretch of silence.
"See what?"
"The lion Leo in action," I said with a grin that showed my teeth. They were not as long or as sharp anymore, worn down by countless use. But these had such a long history of killing that they remain lethal.
"The pride looks hungry for a feast and it is the dry season," I said. "And do you still remember what we hunt during the dry season?"
He propped himself up with his front legs. "Truly?"
"For you."
"Then show me, Father."
And with that, I stood up. Zael stood up right after, and we began making our way out of the clearing. Our departure was announced with a roar, and the pride watched in shocked silence as two kings set out to hunt.
Old strategies were brought to life as Grim took to the skies, searching for death.
My most loyal servant began to lead the way soon after he found a small herd of buffaloes. We walked with slow steps; Zael was slightly limping from his old bones and his wounds.
Our paws crushed the drying twigs and leaves on the ground. Our old noses searched for the scent.
"Do you remember everything I've taught you?" I asked.
As the only other male in the pride during that time, he was my most loyal assistant whenever we would go out hunting giant prey.
"I've forgotten. Teach me," he said with a knowing smile.
He knew full well the lessons I'd taught him. Those things were not just forgotten, no matter how senile one got.
But he wanted to be taught again, and who was I to deny him?
And so I began.
"Buffaloes are one of the most dangerous prey, but also the most rewarding. During the wet season, they congregate in giant mega herds that cross thousands. But during the dry season, they split into smaller herds, barely twenty or more. They do this because of the lack of resources in one place. They use this strategy instead of migrating like other prey, meaning their delicious meat is available all year round."
How long has it been since I hunted Cape buffaloes? The memory of my first hunt was vivid. But the way that knowledge easily slipped out of my tongue was still surprising to me.
I didn't think too deeply and continued my lesson.
"You see, their mating peaks by the end of the wet season and the beginning of the dry season. This is because they could raise their cubs during the wet season. One might assume at first that the females or the younger calves were easier targets, but it was actually the bulls that were the easiest to fell," I said as we continued to walk.
"Competition between males was tough. So in case one bull was attacked, the others would not help..."
The old seem to twist. My age belled away from my body.
And for a short time, I was back in my prime. Zael was also a young lion growing to be king. This was my first hunt, and I was telling him all this knowledge, albeit still a little hesitant since he could betray me for killing his father.
The moment didn't last long, as we reached the herd after a few hours.
My weakness was immediately apparent as I made my way to them and got ready for a fight. My instincts were screaming, as if this was my first time hunting again. It was telling me that I was too weak; I couldn't bring down the bull.
But it was not me but the buffaloes that showed the reaction of fear.
"Ah, you know me," I said, rather glad instead of being alarmed as I would be.
The herd began panicking, traumatised by all the killings I have done to their kind. Before I came, all buffaloes were confident even in the face of a lion. They knew they could fight them off. They were prey void of fear towards the apex.
But now they tremble even at the sight of my old frame. The females and the calves began panicking, whereas the bulls came out in a defensive formation. Each bull was protecting every side of the herd.
"Leave. Leave. Leave." The bulls said amid all the bellowing.
Zael stopped at a distance to watch me in action.
It'd be pretty stupid if I died here, trying to take down prey too big for me. My mind began assessing the situation. My body still knew how to hunt; my mind knew even better.
I was still the giant slayer.
After I got close enough, one of them eventually burst out in a charge towards me.
I waited, standing my ground befitting someone who had killed their species so many times.
The bull came closer and closer, its eyes fixed on me. It wanted to gore me, and if those horns connected, there was a good chance they would tear through my body before I could even react.
Instincts came alive as the bull approached. But this time, they sang a different tune. In a fight-or-flight situation, I had given them no choice but to fight.
Immediately, they found the situation to be familiar; they found it to be comfortable.
Yes, this was where I was comfortable.
A young lion would probably have charged towards the bull just as it did. But I had learned long ago that that was not a good move. Running was also not an option.
I waited until the very last moment before I finally jumped.
I jumped not forward but backwards.
There was a great impact, but a force not resisted was kind. I didn't feel any bones breaking as I allowed myself to be carried by the bull.
Now the bull was carrying me on its head. Its horns could not tear through the loose skin of my body. They were looser than most lions' due to the gigantic mass they used to wrap around.
My hind legs eventually touched the ground again. I still did not resist the buffalo and instead began to guide it towards my desired location.
Buffaloes had stubby legs that were horrible on uneven ground. They were also quick to tire out, so the fact that it continued to charge with my weight on its face was nothing but a good thing.
I shifted my weight whenever I wanted it to turn; eventually, we reached the perfect slope.
Then my paws spread, claws spreading out as I found the eyes of the buffalo. It released a pained bellow and stopped its charge. It raised its head high before diving its head into the ground.
But I saw that coming a mile away. I twisted my body to make sure it couldn't pin me to the ground, and I climbed over to its side. The sharp horns cut my body, but those were some shallow wounds.
The buffalo began shaking its head violently. My claws may not be as sharp, but they had precision that my younger self wouldn't have. He was almost completely blinded now.
But still, buffaloes were not known for their eyesight. They didn't rely on it too much. It was their nose and their ears that they used to sense their surroundings.
The buffalo charged at me once more, angrier than ever before.
I jumped, and my body rose just as the buffalo reached me, and I twisted myself in the air, allowing the momentum of its charge to carry me underneath rather than trying to resist it. Its horns passed beneath my stomach by mere inches, and I landed behind it as the massive bull continued forward.
It knew where I was. But now, without its eyesight, its head was lowered, and it didn't know that he needed to raise it to catch me jumping in the air. I was able to leap over him.
The buffalo stumbled.
I lashed out at his hind legs while he stopped his massive frame.
Such stubby legs carrying a heavy weight. They were the most vulnerable part of the beast. My claws drew lines of cuts whereas I pressed down my teeth on the soft tissues. It kicked its stubby legs, but a buffalo was not a threat like zebras or giraffes when it came to kicks.
I pulled back after I injured its leg.
I roared as we came face to face once more.
"Come on."
The bull charged again.
With the buffalo now blind and its hind legs injured, the fight was basically over.
It knew my general location, but it didn't know my exact position. It was a simple matter to dodge his charge again and again while I bit and inflicted small wounds to make him angry for another charge.
It charged again.
I dodged.
Again.
I dodged.
Again.
I dodged.
Each time, I made sure not to waste too much energy myself. I always inflicted small wounds to anger the beast.
I could see it breathing heavier and heavier as the minutes passed. Buffaloes, with all their mass, were not built for endurance.
Its nostrils flared as it desperately pulled air into its lungs, and its movements were becoming less coordinated. It was still powerful, but the strength behind each charge was beginning to disappear.
I was a matador wearing down the bull.
The whole scene lasted for nearly half an hour.
Eventually, I led the bull exactly where I needed him to be. His eyes could not see how dangerous our current location was.
I roared one last time as the bull charged, also for one last time.
This time, I ran.
The bull chased after me. It used all its remaining strength when it sensed fear in my actions. The bull wanted to end this once and for all. It chased me with increasing speed until eventually, it lost its footing.
It was a slope.
His speed and the sudden angle of the ground made him lose his balance as he fell down and began rolling heavily down the slope. His mass began working against him as he broke bones, ribs, and everything in between as he fell.
By the time it reached the even ground again, he was nothing but a writhing mess of flesh. Painful bellows began to echo, sounding like a scream of pain.
I went down, my son quickly running up beside me.
And we both dealt the killing blow.
Suffice it to say, both prides had a surprise feast.
..
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