she pouts as if offended.

oh, but then they're left with nothing to show how pretty they are. what was a woman without her looks? how can you tell which ones appeal?

they talk. they leave the lakeshore. sancha is relieved to no longer trudge through infirm earth. she wipes her paws on the grass - makes a displeased sound to see how much remained in the nooks of her new skin. perhaps later she'd pick through in detail. if the dream lasted so long.

her wrinkles deepen as her guide inspects every trace. every dropping. she stands maybe fifty piedi away as the great lion goes on to - in the exact manner of a tomcat - urinate on the unknown specimen of tree.

her expression is many lines of distaste.

she reminds herself that he is, after all, an animal.

then she remembers she is animal too.

fixing her shoulders and head in a squared stance, sancha swaggers over to the same tree. it is an over-exaggerated way to move. once at it, she shuffles until she is parallel to the clear part of the trunk. one hind leg is placed on the bark.

with a sound of focused effort, she lets out a short sprinkle of yellow.

somehow, turning around to see the tiny mark is more embarrassing than having preformed the act.

she hopes this'll be the part she forgets upon waking.

---

immediately asking on discord if this counts towards the freak skill

---

+5 points vouched for by me

hunter 4/5

he had not seen this before, save a handful of times, and never from a canine. uhuru was amused, and his whiskered mouth was openly curved in delight to see sancha's valiant attempt. lift thy hips in the times to follow, instructed the lion, and attempt after thou hast filled thy belly with water. he was not dissuaded by mud; its streaks would dry across paw and ankle and flank in grey bands that managed to dissuade the worst of insectful biting.

were he a wolf, he might have covered her mark. as it was, uhuru only sniffs delicately at the yellow spray, taking in the traceries of salt and florals he did not recognize.

tail flicked.

he was off again after the freshening trail of the kudu. waist. hips. the sound of their call. what do dogs want in their mates? uhuru asked steadily, eyes trained ahead and one ears flicked for sancha's rejoin.

the harlot of the streets finds herself avoiding the lion's gaze. is that warmth she feels take her cheeks?

it has been a while since a man had her bashful.

she quietly follows. thankfully, he speaks on a different topic.

hm. sancha-in-hound looks off to the side, thinking. i'd assume a loud bark. a long tail. cleverness, to know where to find a meal. friendliness, most of all.

her eyes drift back to uhuru. the relief of his face. she is quiet a moment longer than intended.

oh, and should know how to swim! quite important, where i'm from.

she is smiling, but the expression pulls away as she looks on ahead.

larger than a deer, even bent by great pain. its two horns spiral like a lady's locks. limping.

sancha realizes this weren't a mere scenic walk.

is that... is that what you've been tracking?

---

hunter 5/5

yes. a kudu, explained the lion. he wondered at the sudden shyness of sancha, wondered whether or not she described him in jest. then again, uhuru had no bark.

what he had were a series of hng calls; they began sudden and hoarse, starting low in his throat and carrying out over the grass sea.

startled, their quarry leapt to ailing feet and continued its struggle, though too fast to sustain on an injured leg. persistence hunting was the name of his way most often, with no pride to run down for him a kill.

uhuru followed placidly. it was not yet time to run. following this, i shall show thee another place to swim. he did not favor the waters himself.

he sounds like a mouser about to hack up a hairball - but this sancha keeps to herself. smiling at her own joke.

not fully comprehending the purpose, she joins him by barking. her own call booms greater than his.

it is exhilarating.

as she and the lion advance on their quarry, sancha feels the power denied to her sex. she is a beast. she is a hunter. she is something with no master. there isn't a man anywhere in the repùblega who wouldn't fear the sight of her, the Lord's favor at her side. this skin is worth more than any ermine coat.

it is the best of dreams, and she does not want it to end.

and i hope to see you soak your mighty head as well, my lord. her eyes are on the kudu. i hear lesser cats fear water, is it the same for you?

she teases. daring, perhaps.

---

gmmm <33

---

cold and dark in the morning now smh

her barking was strange but did not put uhuru off his stride. full-throated and resonant, sancha had a voice that carried more than his own. it was not high-pitched, the annoying yap, the hideous cackling -- all these sounds he had come to equate with those of her kind in these lands.

ah, said the lion, and at last something which could be called a smile attended his own mouth. a mystery, for i myself hath heard tell of lesser cats and their distasteful propensity for water.

ahead, the kudu was stumbling. it fell again, and he saw the tremble of its neck even at this distance. if thou dwell long in the savannah, thou shalt see the deltas flood and rivers emerge where the ground was once dry. thou shalt witness the drowning deaths which follow sudden deluge. and thou shalt witness the crocodile, that beast of great teeth which even i avoid.

uhuru's pupils were expanding.

the flood is their dominion, not myest own.

deluge. there is only wonder in her. the pages of the good book are leafed through in her mind. once, a young cardinal, who paid well for secrecy, showed her his copy - the ark traversed high waves of rich blue pigment, noè and his sons with their hands raised in prayer. she'd seen the leviathan too, red as blood. its neck was long and its snout nasty. it made sense even a lion would fear such a creation of the Lord.

i... i hope to be there. for that. daydreams had made her stall, and she trots to catch up to her guide. i am no stranger to floods! between autumn and spring, the canals spill out, not a road left you can walk on foot. oh, a disaster if you haven't the coin to afford-

the kudu slips. with a bellow it crumples to the ground, its chest hitting hard.

sancha pauses. the antelope tries to rise on its good pair of legs. uncertain, she looks to uhuru.

uhuru returned her even look and then the powerful bulk of the lion slipped into a strong trot, and then a run.

mane flattened by air, savannah coursing under his paws, he left dust risen from knots of tangled golden grass behind the wake of his revolving tail. a large cloud of taupe'd particles rose around him, his hindquarters, his muscular forearms.

his eyes were not searching for sancha, but the round ears had slid back to listen for the sound of her delicate paws.

for that she was, tapered and delicate, too-wide compared to other canines but in his shadow she was a slate of porcelain, and it fed a wholly masculine pride to think that way.

grab the throat, he directed. bite and hold fast to ebb the pulsing life.

pride now, pride seeping where disdain should have been.

magnificent.

he's faster than she'd expect of such a heavy beast. not even a run - he grabs his way across the grassland, pulling the very earth.

she had halted mid-step. it takes a quick shake of the head - was that drool that clung to her bottom lip? - to lurch into movement.

and she's running after him, barking at uneven intervals.

it truly, truly delights her how it makes the quarry panic. slip. fall again.

and she obeys the command as a hound does.

in a rush of elation, not a moment is spent on thinking of the spiraling horns. the crushing hooves. she skids to a halt in such a way that her momentum is stopped by her bite into the soft muzzle - a miss.

but she clings. the antelope struggles. it makes sounds that for a moment have sancha wonder if it speaks.

then her fangs pierce and it's all screams.

sancha was swift, heeding, biting.

blood welled at once, bone pulped beneath. he saw that her jaws were hyena-strong; he wondered if she could break the bone of any other creature so well.

through sheer force of will the kudu began to gather legs beneath, but a harsh blow from broad paw broke one of the offending limbs, and it crashed again down beneath sancha and her heavy teeth.

uhuru panted for a moment, his eyes still dark with thrill. it was different, how she handled and killed, but no less lethal. the lion approved, circling in anticipation of final death so that they might consume before the scavengers landed.

already the clouds of dust had propelled feathery shapes into the air, and he knew that the tint of crimson to atmosphere would bring also the jackals.