Where There Live Gazelles, There Live Lions

• Sabrina Clarke, Grade 10, Investigator College
• Short Story
• 2012

Excellence Award in the 'Legendary 2012' competition

The gazelles lived by careful footsteps, listening while they grazed for a snap of a twig, and indication that their predator was stalking them. One evening, as dusk began to fall, one of the Gazelles lifted her head intently at the very sound she was trained to fear, the crunching of padded footsteps on dry grass. She alerted the others without making a sound. She waited for something. The others began to back away but she remained, curious, until her predator emerged. It was a lion; a cub.
She looked at him; she saw his fear, pain, and loss. He was a scared orphan. She treaded carefully over to him, the others staring nervously, but she had only concern in her stride. She was shocked, and the others even more so, as he curled up to her and fell into sound sleep beside her. She wanted to leave, frightened of this little creature, or rather of his heritage, but nevertheless; she couldn’t leave him to die.
They awoke to find the cub curled up, next to the same gazelle. They didn’t know what to do with him, but silently agreed to wait for him to leave and move on. Their expectations weren’t fulfilled, but they soon came to be grateful for his presence.
The Gazelles and he grew a bond. They were a family, and it was not questioned.
He learned to modify his diet with a combination of grass and small animals that he could hunt. The lifestyle was unnatural, but strangely, it worked. The days flowed into each other and with each day, their bond grew. Before they knew it, two years had passed since he had become part of the family. The family started settling down after a successful day; the lion had managed to catch a monkey and was quite tired from the chase. The sun was a faint glow on the horizon.
His ears pricked up at the sound of footsteps, careful, swift, and deadly. Silently, he arose and padded with even more delicacy to greet the intruders. He was nose-to-nose with a lioness. Her attack was stalled with her shock at seeing her own kind on the wrong side of the hunt.
The lion felt something in his throat.
He opened his massive jaws and let out a roar that ripped up his throat and could be heard throughout the ages. The lionesses abandoned the hunt as he chased after her and the rest of the Pride until they scattered and never dared to return again. The Gazelles were all awake and alert by the time he returned. They watched him expectantly as he singled out his adoptive mother and lay down next to her.
Though his roar was mighty, his dreams were troubled and as the night grew cold his single shiver was suppressed with the warmth of his mothers love and in a deep slumber, he smiled.
The End