A strong wind blew across the endless plains of Africa, pulling the tall grasses into a mesmerizing ripple. Trees were swayed, fur was ruffled, and the first relieving signs of the night began to show. Many of the animals living there filtered into their various dens and shelters, nuzzling cubs and family as they drifted into a fitful slumber. Other animals, however, were just beginning to rise and start their days in sync with the rising of the stars, employing nothing but the light of the moon as their guide. This even included a lone wolf, who, beneath the last pink clouds of the setting Sun, sat grooming her fur as she watched a group of lions mingle underneath a rocky overhang. More specifically, a certain cub and his father.

The cub was noticeably larger than the others, with a coat of thick, unkempt fur. Even from a distance, the wolf could see his abnormally large teeth poking through his mouth as he spoke to the older lion. He seemed excited, playfully crouching low and shaking his stumped tail with apparent glee.

An expected pang of sadness jerked through the wolf; it happened every time. The cub was fed lies about his future, probably being told about the great adventure he was about to embark on, and yet she did nothing to stop it.

She never did.

When the older lion looked up at the wolf, nudging his cub to do the same, she knew it was her cue to approach. With a soft sigh, she followed his unsaid command and padded up to the duo, sporting a fake air of excitement as the cub squealed in delight.

"Are you really a wolf?" he asked eagerly, darting around her and sniffing everything his nose can touch. "Grandmaw says wolves live very far away, where the trees are as tall as the clouds! Is it true there are no zebras over there?"

He continued to ask questions, causing the wolf to smile. It was a shame his innocence will be cut short. "I need to speak to your father. I'll tell you about it when we leave, alright?

The cub grinned a toothy grin and dashed off to a nearby hole, pawing at something within. The wolf watched for a moment before turning to the older lion, dropping her smile.

"Where to?" she asked.

The lion turned slightly, as if she only deserved part of his attention. "The Collector. You remember the way?" He wrinkled his nose as he spoke.

"Of course. I can almost smell the gore from here," she replied, mirroring his expression. The last time she visited The Collector, the smell of blood seemed to surround her like a bad fog. It was days before the odor finally stopped clinging to her fur.

When the lion said nothing more, the wolf bowed her head and backed away. The essentials were said, and it seemed he was done with her.

When she turned to approach the cub, he was chasing a pair of silver beetles, trying to get them to stay still and fight. It was quickly abandoned when he saw the wolf approach, and he sprung up from the dirt and rushed to her side. The silence only lasted a moment, presumably for him to gather his thoughts,


A/N: Might not finish this, I've been directing my inspiration for writing toward a book I'm attempting. Sorry :(