Fire burned deep in her eyes as she charged the large beast. Her teeth ground together in a symbol of both concentration and determination. Her heart beat faster than a thousand falling raindrops. Her legs moved as swiftly as a thousand fluttering wings. And in the end, the damn thing still managed to escape.
Kamaria was having such an off day. Tripping over her own four feet every time she charged. Her teeth continued to grind, only now in frustration. She couldn't think straight on days like this. Days when the sun shone down so goddamn bright on the golden stalks of grass covering the savanna.
She contemplated- slowly- the idea of heading home with nothing. But the image of a sad and hungry Dayo popped into her view and she grudgingly marched farther south, toward the faint scent of a herd of wildebeest. If she was lucky, she could find a young or wounded creature ready to be taken down without too much of a fight.
~
As usual, her luck was low and she sauntered back to the small kopje she and her daughter shared with nothing more than two small guinea fowl. She could see the small cheetah cub, lying as still as possible on the highest branch of the acacia tree, just as she had left her.
At the sight of her mother, Dayo flew joyfully down the tree, meeting her mother at the base of the hill. Kamaria's eyes closed gently. Her whiskers twitched slightly with amusement and a low purr escaped her throat. Her love for Dayo was all that kept her going these days. If Dayo wasn't so naturally cheery, Kamaria assumed she would have lost it by now.
"Hallo Moeder!" Dayo chirped cheerfully. Kamaria opened her eyes slowly and dropped her kill.
"Hallo Dayo my dearest," she purred, "How has your practice been going?"
"Oh Moeder, fantastic! I spotted three pheasants across the plain and a whole herd of zebra walked by. They didn't even notice me!" Her speaking didn't slow as Kamaria began to groom her, starting with her head and working down her back, "And some birds flew by, I don't know what kind they were, and I smelled some buffalo on the wind. I opened my mouth real wide like you showed me," Dayo opened her own mouth wide to illustrate, "And I breathed in real deep. And I smelled the buffalo just like you said I would!"
Dayo was wiggling around playfully, happy to see her mother and relay her day to her. Kamaria was finding it hard to clean her, and finally, giving up, she went back over to the fowl. "Remember Dayo," she said, her whiskers twitching as she began to tear the birds apart with her delicate paws, "Esalamiho liulume ka li enda enda no posi, labor has sure reward. "Keep working and I will soon be able to take you with me on the hunt."
Dayo's eye widened and her entire body shook with excitement. "Regtig en waarlik? Really and truly?"
"Yes. But only when I am sure you are ready. For now," Her ears pulled back and a smug look came into her eyes, "You eat what I bring you."
Dayo charged the bird corpse. What had seemed small to Kamaria was more than half Dayo's size.
It may be enough for now, Kamaria thought, but what happens when the kid hits another growth spurt?
Kamaria, like most mothers, was not unaware of the changes her child was going through. At 8 months Dayo was so much bigger than the cub she had once been. All her small delicate teeth had fallen away and strong, sharp fangs had taken their place. To be honest, Kamaria hadn't acknowledge the growth until Dayo had started begging to come hunting with her. She was not ready to lose what she had only had for what seemed like such a short time. Her whiskers twitched and sadness clouded her vision as she began to eat.
When they had finished eating they climbed once again to the top of the acacia tree.Catching the last rays of the dying sun, the mother and her daughter groomed themselves silently.
Dayo, smaller and less meticulous, was of course done first. She begged her mother for a story. Kamaria stopped grooming for a moment and looked up at her daughter. She studied her carefully, squiting her eyes and twitching her whiskers thoughtfully. She lay still in the tree for another moment, and finally spoke, "This is the story of your father."