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It’s neck clamped tightly in his jaws, Mapigano kept one paw on the zebra’s chest, and one on its head—it seemed that the beast’s breathing had stopped, but he wasn’t taking any chances with this one; he was going to be more than sure it was dead before he loosened his hold. He had never seen a zebra fight like that before. Sure, all prey fought for its life, but her entire herd had come at him when the hunters had been spotted. Maybe the herd had caught rabies—he probably shouldn’t eat her, if she was rabid. But, no, the zebras would have already been twitchy before they saw him, if they were sick. What had they gotten so animated for? Either way, Mapigano would never forgive his bloody coward cousin Fahari, and Fahari’s bloody coward husband Jiona for getting spooked during that hunt, and leaving him to be trampled! He was lucky not to be dead, and he imagined he’d have this ragged, ugly scar across his cheek for the rest of his life. He’d lost teeth to that zebra’s hooves! He would never, ever let Fahari and Jiona live it down.

Maybe he’d get over it if they caught breakfast for a couple days.

When he was finally convinced that there was no more life in the zebra’s body, he readjusted his hold on the carcass and began to drag it into the undergrowth, where it would be hidden. No chance was he giving up any of this to the rest of the leap, if they came crawling back. No, he thought as he backed through the tall grass, dinner tonight was all for him, those cats could starve!

Just as he was about to drop the carcass and tuck in, Mapigano’s back paw met something warm, which let out a squeak. His hold on the zebra faltered, and he sprang away.

He turned around, blocking his meal protectively with his body and looking around in confusion. Soon, his eyes dropped low enough that he spotted it: its head stuck deep in a bush, the animal he had stepped on was definitely a baby zebra. Mapigano blinked, and his eyes flitted from the stuck foal, to the carcass of the zebra who had fought so unusually hard.

“...Oh,” he breathed, as the realization washed over him.

After a moment, Mapigano was able to shake himself out of his stupor, and gently pushed on the thorny shrub with his paw. The foal came toppling out of the leaves, landing clumsily on his back. He looked up at the leopard, blinking his large, green eyes, and smiled. The foal rolled about for a few moments, before he was finally able to flip onto his hooves again. He sniffed at the air, and his nose twitched as he peered over Mapigano’s shoulder. The leopard winced, before kicking the carcass behind a log.

“No, no,” he said, crouching down to meet the foal’s eye, “Don’t, uh, don’t look at that, you don’t need to see that. Um, what’s your name, kid?”

The foal stared at him, uncomprehendingly.

“Um... jina lako nani?”

He continued to be silent.

“Aw, crud,” said Mapigano, “You’re real little, aren’t you?”

A foal this young was likely still on milk. You really weren’t supposed to hunt nursing mothers, it was usually considered as bad as hunting pregnant ones. Mapigano took pride in being the toughest guy around, and was generally quite the rule-breaker, but when it came to the circle of life he was respectful. Not that anyone would blame him for killing that mare, he hadn’t known—but still, this kid had run off from his herd when they started panicking and got himself stuck, and now the herd had run off, too.

He could leave him. There was no law that made him responsible for the foal’s wellbeing—and certainly not in a Halali Land. Life ran on the honor system in places the Backlands. That was why he lived there, it allowed him to have all the freedom in the world. He ought to just grab his kill and make his exit, the foal was not his problem. Besides, the herd might come back for him. He’d be safe… assuming they realized they’d left him in time. There were plenty of predators decidedly less honorable than Mapigano, in the Backlands. …The herd would at least come back to this spot to graze. At some point.

Mapigano’s red eyes flitted from the log that hid his hard-fought kill, to the little foal who was currently pawing curiously at a rock. He looked up at the leopard, blinked for a moment, and let out a mighty sneeze. The force threw him onto his back again.

“Mungu baba,” Mapigano grumbled, “Alright, alright, I get it, you won’t survive five minutes on your own. But don’t get attached, we’re finding your herd first thing in the morning.”

As Mapigano began to walk forward, he found that foal trotted at his side without even being prompted, gazing up cheerfully at the leopard. As the pair began to get farther and farther from the zebra carcass, Mapigano felt his stomach growl, and he cringed.

“I guess that’s for Fahari and Jiona, after all,” he said with a sigh.

*~~~*

Yawning, Mapigano stretched once again and lay his head down awkwardly on a tree root. The grass was no place for a leopard to make their bed when a branch was available. But the foal needed to be kept warm, and as Fahari—who’s belly was full of meat while Mapigano was going hungry—had so elegantly told him “the thing’s got hooves, you bleedin’ moron, it’s not climbing a tree!” So, Mapigano was on the ground.

The zebra foal was beside him. For an animal that was supposed to be active in the daylight hours, he sure didn’t seem eager to sleep when the sun was down. He kept getting up onto his scrawny legs and standing at attention, looking out into the night. Just about every time Mapigano started drifting off, the foal was making noise again, trotting around the tree trunk and crunching leaves under his hooves.

“Kiddo,” said the leopard, picking him up and putting him back by his side, “We’re going to be out all day looking for your herd, there won’t be any nap-time tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

The foal sniffed nervously at the air, and looked around once more. Finally he lay down, folding his long legs underneath him.

“Took you long enough,” said Mapigano, laying his head down on his paws, “Now if you’ll just drift off, we might get enough hours to—oh, spirits’ sake.”

He was up again, standing at attention on very wobbly legs. He let out a huge yawn, but kept his eyes on the world around them. Mapigano groaned, and shook his head. What was it with this guy? The leopard wasn’t an expert on zebra behavior, but he racked his brain for what he did know. Maybe he could remember something that his mother had told him, when he was still learning to hunt: He knew that there were four—no, three—three different kinds of zebras, who lived in different places. All of them lived in big, friendly herds. He knew that they tended to sleep during the night. When they slept, it was usually standing, but not always, and he couldn’t quite remember why that was.... That seemed important. Mapigano shut his eyes tight, trying to remember. There was a good reason they slept differently, sometimes—yes! He remembered: when they were laying down, they were deeply asleep, and the ones who were still standing up were still close to awake, so that they could be... on the alert for predators.

“Aw, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he groaned, “You’re not going to go to sleep until I’m standing up, watching for predators? Mjinga, I’m a leopard! I’m literally the thing you’re worried about!”

The foal was paying no attention, still looking out nervously into the night.

“...Fine,” hissed Mapigano, getting to his paws, “I’m up. I’m watching for anything that might eat you. Can you go to sleep proper, now?”

The foal smiled brightly, flopping onto the ground. Mapigano sighed, letting himself lean against the tree as he stood watch.

“Just great,” he said to himself, “Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”

———

Me: I should work on the comic or something, y’know, something people want to see from me.
Also me: HAHA, MAPIGANO FIC GO BRRR

Background by :iconLionGuardKujena:, edited from TLG

Description
It’s neck clamped tightly in his jaws, Mapigano kept one paw on the zebra’s chest, and one on its head—it seemed that the beast’s breathing had stopped, but he wasn’t taking any chances with this one; he was going to be more than sure it was dead before he loosened his hold. He had never seen a zebra fight like that before. Sure, all prey fought for its life, but her entire herd had come at him when the hunters had been spotted. Maybe the herd had caught rabies—he probably shouldn’t eat her, if she was rabid. But, no, the zebras would have already been twitchy before they saw him, if they were sick. What had they gotten so animated for? Either way, Mapigano would never forgive his bloody coward cousin Fahari, and Fahari’s bloody coward husband Jiona for getting spooked during that hunt, and leaving him to be trampled! He was lucky not to be dead, and he imagined he’d have this ragged, ugly scar across his cheek for the rest of his life. He’d lost teeth to that zebra’s hooves! He would never, ever let Fahari and Jiona live it down.

Maybe he’d get over it if they caught breakfast for a couple days.

When he was finally convinced that there was no more life in the zebra’s body, he readjusted his hold on the carcass and began to drag it into the undergrowth, where it would be hidden. No chance was he giving up any of this to the rest of the leap, if they came crawling back. No, he thought as he backed through the tall grass, dinner tonight was all for him, those cats could starve!

Just as he was about to drop the carcass and tuck in, Mapigano’s back paw met something warm, which let out a squeak. His hold on the zebra faltered, and he sprang away.

He turned around, blocking his meal protectively with his body and looking around in confusion. Soon, his eyes dropped low enough that he spotted it: its head stuck deep in a bush, the animal he had stepped on was definitely a baby zebra. Mapigano blinked, and his eyes flitted from the stuck foal, to the carcass of the zebra who had fought so unusually hard.

“...Oh,” he breathed, as the realization washed over him.

After a moment, Mapigano was able to shake himself out of his stupor, and gently pushed on the thorny shrub with his paw. The foal came toppling out of the leaves, landing clumsily on his back. He looked up at the leopard, blinking his large, green eyes, and smiled. The foal rolled about for a few moments, before he was finally able to flip onto his hooves again. He sniffed at the air, and his nose twitched as he peered over Mapigano’s shoulder. The leopard winced, before kicking the carcass behind a log.

“No, no,” he said, crouching down to meet the foal’s eye, “Don’t, uh, don’t look at that, you don’t need to see that. Um, what’s your name, kid?”

The foal stared at him, uncomprehendingly.

“Um... jina lako nani?”

He continued to be silent.

“Aw, crud,” said Mapigano, “You’re real little, aren’t you?”

A foal this young was likely still on milk. You really weren’t supposed to hunt nursing mothers, it was usually considered as bad as hunting pregnant ones. Mapigano took pride in being the toughest guy around, and was generally quite the rule-breaker, but when it came to the circle of life he was respectful. Not that anyone would blame him for killing that mare, he hadn’t known—but still, this kid had run off from his herd when they started panicking and got himself stuck, and now the herd had run off, too.

He could leave him. There was no law that made him responsible for the foal’s wellbeing—and certainly not in a Halali Land. Life ran on the honor system in places the Backlands. That was why he lived there, it allowed him to have all the freedom in the world. He ought to just grab his kill and make his exit, the foal was not his problem. Besides, the herd might come back for him. He’d be safe… assuming they realized they’d left him in time. There were plenty of predators decidedly less honorable than Mapigano, in the Backlands. …The herd would at least come back to this spot to graze. At some point.

Mapigano’s red eyes flitted from the log that hid his hard-fought kill, to the little foal who was currently pawing curiously at a rock. He looked up at the leopard, blinked for a moment, and let out a mighty sneeze. The force threw him onto his back again.

“Mungu baba,” Mapigano grumbled, “Alright, alright, I get it, you won’t survive five minutes on your own. But don’t get attached, we’re finding your herd first thing in the morning.”

As Mapigano began to walk forward, he found that foal trotted at his side without even being prompted, gazing up cheerfully at the leopard. As the pair began to get farther and farther from the zebra carcass, Mapigano felt his stomach growl, and he cringed.

“I guess that’s for Fahari and Jiona, after all,” he said with a sigh.

*~~~*

Yawning, Mapigano stretched once again and lay his head down awkwardly on a tree root. The grass was no place for a leopard to make their bed when a branch was available. But the foal needed to be kept warm, and as Fahari—who’s belly was full of meat while Mapigano was going hungry—had so elegantly told him “the thing’s got hooves, you bleedin’ moron, it’s not climbing a tree!” So, Mapigano was on the ground.

The zebra foal was beside him. For an animal that was supposed to be active in the daylight hours, he sure didn’t seem eager to sleep when the sun was down. He kept getting up onto his scrawny legs and standing at attention, looking out into the night. Just about every time Mapigano started drifting off, the foal was making noise again, trotting around the tree trunk and crunching leaves under his hooves.

“Kiddo,” said the leopard, picking him up and putting him back by his side, “We’re going to be out all day looking for your herd, there won’t be any nap-time tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

The foal sniffed nervously at the air, and looked around once more. Finally he lay down, folding his long legs underneath him.

“Took you long enough,” said Mapigano, laying his head down on his paws, “Now if you’ll just drift off, we might get enough hours to—oh, spirits’ sake.”

He was up again, standing at attention on very wobbly legs. He let out a huge yawn, but kept his eyes on the world around them. Mapigano groaned, and shook his head. What was it with this guy? The leopard wasn’t an expert on zebra behavior, but he racked his brain for what he did know. Maybe he could remember something that his mother had told him, when he was still learning to hunt: He knew that there were four—no, three—three different kinds of zebras, who lived in different places. All of them lived in big, friendly herds. He knew that they tended to sleep during the night. When they slept, it was usually standing, but not always, and he couldn’t quite remember why that was.... That seemed important. Mapigano shut his eyes tight, trying to remember. There was a good reason they slept differently, sometimes—yes! He remembered: when they were laying down, they were deeply asleep, and the ones who were still standing up were still close to awake, so that they could be... on the alert for predators.

“Aw, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he groaned, “You’re not going to go to sleep until I’m standing up, watching for predators? Mjinga, I’m a leopard! I’m literally the thing you’re worried about!”

The foal was paying no attention, still looking out nervously into the night.

“...Fine,” hissed Mapigano, getting to his paws, “I’m up. I’m watching for anything that might eat you. Can you go to sleep proper, now?”

The foal smiled brightly, flopping onto the ground. Mapigano sighed, letting himself lean against the tree as he stood watch.

“Just great,” he said to himself, “Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”

———

Me: I should work on the comic or something, y’know, something people want to see from me.
Also me: HAHA, MAPIGANO FIC GO BRRR

Background by :iconLionGuardKujena:, edited from TLG