[1st POV]

(One year and five months old)

Under the morning sun and hidden amid the grass were two predators crouching low. They were stalking a springbuck that had wandered a little too far from the grazing herd.

"Sight, scent, and sound," Sarabi whispered into Leo's ears, "That's how they'll know you're coming. Eliminate two at all times."

This was the very first time that she was teaching him to hunt. The other two cubs, Nala and Zuri, were already taught how to hunt, and Leo was the last priority in her mind.

She felt this way because her relationship with Leo had been strained ever since Scar became king, and she didn't think it would be worth her time to teach a male—one without a tail at that.

Food was also abundant, and Scar was using the strategy of surrounding prey with his overwhelming number of hyenas. Therefore, it was not really required for the pride to hunt anymore.

But in the end, she decided to take him out for at least one hunt. She'd admit, she was thoroughly impressed with her son so far. He was doing everything perfectly; her soft whisper in his ears was more like a reminder than an actual lesson.

She could see that Leo already knew how to stalk prey—how he learned that was a question that kept ringing in her mind. He would have become a remarkable hunter just like his dad had it not been for his disability. What a waste of talent, she thought to herself.

Leo stayed quiet, his shoulders moved and rolled as he crawled up to his prey. His huge paws barely made a sound even when he stepped on dried grass.

There was a slight change in wind direction, so they both paused and crouched even lower than they already were. The springbuck caught their scent and looked in their direction, but it didn't see anything or hear anything.

They moved only after the wind changed again and they were stalking downwind. They moved ever so slowly toward the prey, who continued to look at them. But since it didn't hear or smell them, it did not run.

As long as you eliminate two senses, the prey would not run. That was the golden rule of stalking prey. Of course, this didn't work on every animal—take, for example, a rabbit that would run when it felt threatened.

Sarabi stepped on a twig, causing it to crack under her weight. They stopped and hid low immediately. The springbuck carefully looked around again before shrugging. It continued grazing and the predators crawled even closer.

After a few more seconds of careful stalking, they were close enough to jump out and chase their prey. Sarabi took this moment to test Leo once more.

"Where do you think it will run?" she whispered the question in his ear. Knowing where the prey would run or how it would run was a vital piece of information if you wanted a successful chase.

It ensures a slight advantage, which could snowball into a deciding factor. Especially when both animals had similar speeds.

"Huh?" Leo blinked, as if he thought the question was out of place. He turned towards his mother with a questioning tilt of his head.

"The prey, where do you think it will run?" she asked again.

"Ummm... away from me?" Leo's answer was so unsure that it came out as a question.

Sarabi released a sigh, but there was no disappointment. Leo had done extremely well so far. She should've expected him to be ignorant about some things, even though he was exceptional at stalking. After all, she had not been there to teach him anything.

"You need to know where your prey will run if you want to catch it," she said in a teaching voice. "Look at its right side—the rest of the herd is that way, so it will likely run towards them."

Leo followed her line of sight and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He was taking apart every teaching and learning as much as he could.

"They seek safety in numbers," Sarabi said. "Now look at the surroundings. Notice the number of trees there—the prey will likely run towards the empty spaces rather than the clustered ones."

"Are you listening to me, Leo?" she asked when she noticed that he was spacing out.

He shook his head. "Yes. I was just wondering if all that will really be necessary for me."

She creased her eyebrow. "What do you mean—"

But then a bird flying overhead spotted them and released a panicked sound before flying away with a loud flap of her wings.

The springbuck straightened up, and this time, since they were so close, it spotted them. The prey turned and ran almost immediately.

Sarabi clicked her tongue. It seemed like they would have to search for a new target. All their effort was discarded because of one single unaccounted factor.

She relaxed her posture, only to tense up again as Leo shot out like a bullet. Her instinct screamed at her—the explosion of raw strength spooked her to the very core.

He was a blur beside her. She couldn't believe he was moving that fast. She stood up and watched him as he chased after the prey.

On a closer inspection, she realised that he was not fast. Quick would be the better word to describe him. He could not have been faster than her full speed, but what set him apart was his ability to accelerate.

At full speed, he was still slower than an experienced hunter like Sarabi. But he was able to go from zero to top speed almost immediately.

He pushed himself off not just with his hind legs but with all of his limbs. He did not gallop to pick up speed like other lions do. His forelegs grabbed the earth together, and he pulled himself forward with raw power. His hind legs worked similarly, and he pushed himself off with staggering force.

Even the prey did not have time to reach its top speed. Leo was onto him before it passed the ten-metre mark. What was the use of running fast when you had no time to run fast?

Leo swiped his arms at the back leg of the buck. His highly developed shoulder pulled itself, and his swing was able to rip the hooves off the ground easily.

The swing was even powerful enough to break the animal's leg.

The springbuck fell on the ground, and Leo pounced at it. He clamped down at the neck and, with a trained twist of his head, he broke the neck with a soft crack.

He continued biting at the neck while the prey struggled with its final breath. A few seconds later, the springbuck stopped moving and lay dead.

On the other hand, Sarabi was completely rooted in her spot. She had never seen Leo in action, so she could not comprehend how he was able to move that fast or kill prey that easily.

It was jarring—borderline frightening.

"Leo?" she called him, as if to confirm that the beast in front of her was indeed her son. The one that was just a small cub a year ago. The one she raised.

Leo turned back and looked at her with awful awareness in his eyes. There was an unnerving intelligence in the depth of those eyes—one she didn't see even in wise kings like Mufasa.

She slowly walked up to him and rubbed her head along his body to show her feelings. Leo welcomed her by replying to her action. His growing mane gently brushed against her.

She also realized then that he was already the same size as her, if not heavier. She had not paid attention, but in what felt like a blink of an eye, her son was already grown.

"You've grown, my son," she said with mixed emotion. "I'm proud of you."

And he grew better than she could ever imagine.

..

..

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