Margot

Dry lightning hit the pridelands as soon as Margot was born. That electric smell would cling to her for the rest of her life.
The king was quietly relieved that the cub didn't seem to have inherited her mother's rebellious attitude. She did, of course, inherit those spiritual powers. In fact, as the king watched Major sleep in her tousled nest, he thought that this cub had actually taken some of the strange power out of her. Major's face was uncommonly relaxed, her fluffy cub nuzzled to her belly, the arid storm pulsing over the caves. It was a dim and peaceful moment.
Outside the mouth of the cave, the king watched the strange shapes of lightning twist in the distant sky, eerie and silent for several seconds before the roar of thunder rolled across the pridelands. He wasn't worried about wildfires. He knew he, and his pride, would be safe through the night. They would be safe for many more, he hoped, if this cub could really carry that mysterious power Major spoke of. None of those ten thousand disquieted deaths would be theirs.