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.