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The herd’s scent carried on forward, but the leopard stood still.

Mapigano had picked up the zebra herd’s trace from their grazing grounds, followed it to and then past the watering hole, where it seemed that they had rested through the evening. Then they’d gone past the Iroko tree, and into the small jungle that lead right to the Hatari Canyons.

The canyons may have been leopard territory in the past, but they were somewhere that Mapigano preferred not to go—especially in harmattan season, when the whole area would become blanketed in sand from the Jangwa Desert. And if it was somewhere that he feared to go alone, he was certainly not taking the foal a step into this part of the Backlands.

“C’mon, kid,” said Mapigano, turning from where the pair stood at the Iroko tree, “No point in looking here. Let’s check the west border. They might have come back through, that way.”

~*~*~*~

Two days later and he was sure that the zebra herd had not, in fact, come back over the west border. He was starting to think that he would not be seeing them again, at all.

The fact that they had up and left the Backlands suggested that they were just passing through in the first place, and not a native herd that he just hadn’t recognized. Perhaps his hunt had hastened their migration—it didn’t seem likely to Mapigano that the herd had perished in a harmattan, not if migration was something they were used to. They would know how to handle unfriendly weather. But if they had been killed, and if was his hunting that pushed them to move on....

Mapigano looked guiltily at the zebra foal, who was nibbling with glee on what must have been a particularly tasty flower. The leopard was glad that zebras could eat vegetation so young, at least—he wouldn’t have survived a day without a mother, otherwise. Mapigano sighed, and sat down.

“What am I going to do with you, kid?” he asked.

The foal’s ears perked up, and he looked at him with a smile, before trotting up to him and nuzzling against his leg.

“Aw, no, don’t tell me you think your name is ‘Kid’, now?” Mapigano groaned, pulling away. When the foal looked to him eagerly, he added; “Great. Add that to the list of problems.”

The zebra tilted his head, and considered him for a moment. Soon enough he smiled again, before he reared up and planted his front hooves firmly on Mapigano’s shoulder. He then ducked away, and took up a fighting stance. The leopard laughed at first, before his face quickly fell.

“I can’t be your dad, lil’ guy,” he said, “Cubs just aren’t in my plans... foals really aren’t. Besides, I’m a bad influence, anyway! You’d end up all pushy ‘n’ grumpy, you’d grow an ugly beard—I mean, c’mon, you don’t want any part of this.”

The foal reared up again, kicking Mapigano’s side. He stood up, shaking his head.

“If I can’t keep you, and I can’t find your herd,” he growled, more to himself than to the foal, “Then where are you supposed to go? I can’t drop you off with anybody, I don’t know any bloody zebras!”

The foal had turned his attention to a butterfly, who’d landed on a nearby flower. He sniffed at the insect eagerly, and it fluttered its yellow wings in surprise. A moment later, the butterfly hopped from the flower to the foal’s nose. He whinnied, turning to Mapigano as the bug crawled up to his mane. The leopard couldn’t help but smile—that golden adornment looked rather cute on the zebra.

“Hey,” he thought aloud, an idea striking him as the butterfly flew off of the foal, fluttering past Mapigano’s eyes, “I don’t know any zebras... but there’s one I might be able to drop you with, anyhow.”

~*~*~*~

Mapigano had concealed the two of them deep, deep in the undergrowth, as they made their way through the neighboring territory. He had not stepped paw in the Dhahabu Plains since it split off from the Backlands into its own sovereign kingdom. Still, he recognized the landscape well enough to traverse it.

“A zebra monarchy never seemed right to me,” he whispered to the foal, as they trekked through the bushes and vines, “I guess it has its uses, though, huh?”

Mapigano could smell that they were getting close, and he slowed his pace. He put a paw on the foal’s shoulder, and said; “Now, you remember what we’re gonna do, right? When I tell you to go, you’re gonna burst through the bushes and run right up to the golden zebra.”

The foal whinnied eagerly.

“And then you’re gonna tell her your name—which is not Kid; you’re gonna say ‘my name is Wawinda, I’m an orphan, and one of you needs to be my new parent!’”

The foal looked up at him, silently.

“Alright, that might be too ambitious. But you can tell her you have a name, right? Say ‘Wawinda’!”

He whinnied.

“...Fine, they can name you,” Mapigano grumbled, “Why do I even try?”

Soon, the pair had made their way to the center of the Dhahabu Plains, to an area known as Dhahabu Grove. The queen had made this little waterfall her herd’s base of operation—the Plain’s equivalent to Pride Rock. It looked like most of the herd was home, frolicking in the shallow waters. Queen Dhahabu was among them, stood with her back to where Mapigano was crouched, chatting animatedly with two of her subjects.

“Looks like we’re all ready,” said Mapigano, “Okay, kid: go!”

The foal smiled brightly.

“...Go! Now. Jump out of the bushes,” the leopard urged.

He tilted his head.

“Mungu baba, you zebras,” Mapigano scoffed. Putting his paw on the foal’s back, he sent him toppling out of their hiding place with a crash.

While the young zebra scrambled to his hooves and ran towards the lake, the leopard slowly backed further into the undergrowth. He didn’t want the herd spotting him, but he wasn’t ready to leave—not until he was sure that the child would be safe, here. The zebras had heard the noises, and were already turning to see what what the disturbance was. Dhahabu trotted to the front of the herd, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh! O-oh my goodness, where did you come from, little one?” the queen asked. She looked to the zebras around her. “Who’s foal is this? Tepe, is this—no, you’ve got your girl with you. Pundamillia, is—no, no, that’s your boy there...”

Dhahabu bent down to meet the foal’s eyes.

“What’s your name, dear?”

The foal tilted his head.

“...Wawinda!” he chirped.

Mapigano’s ears perked up in surprise.

“Wawinda!” Dhahabu repeated, bending down to meet his eye, “You really aren’t one of ours, I don’t know any foals by that name. Did you get separated from your—oh... oh, dear.”

The curious herd had gathered around them, and she turned to the closest zebra as she said; “I think I know what happened to his family; he reeks of leopard.”

The zebras hummed and whinnied in understanding. Mapigano watched as Dhahabu nuzzled her snout against Wawinda’s, who giggled and attempted to headbutt her.

“You poor, sweet thing. How did you even manage to get here, all alone?” the golden zebra asked. “We certainly can’t let you stay that way! Spirits, this is a problem...”

She pushed her ears flat against her head, in thought. Her fellow zebras whispered nervously to each other, watching the queen with curious eyes. Finally, Dhahabu gasped and turned to her subjects with an eager grin.

“If there are no objections,” Dhahabu said, “I will be taking this foal into my care!”

As the herd reacted with cheers, Mapigano let out a sigh of relief, and turned to sneak back through the forest. As he walked, the eager chatter of the zebras becoming more and more distant behind him, he couldn’t help but to smile: he’d successfully gotten the annoying, troublesome, entirely-Mapigano’s-own-fault-he-got-orphaned little kid a family—a royal family, at that. He didn’t know if that erased his original screw up, in the eyes of the great spirits, but it was certainly the best he could do.

Mapigano paused, and brought up his paw to touch the wound on his face, gained his last hunt. It still stung, and he winced as he pulled his paw away. He was certain now that it would leave a scar—but, he realized with amusement, he had left his own mark, today: he’d named the next king of the Dhahabu Plains!

--------

No clue if anybody will remember this piece besides me, but this is indeed a sequel to that! I’ve been trying to write the follow-up literally since I posted the original (off and on, of course). Just couldn’t write it out in a way I found satisfactory, and I’ve finally kinda given up, cause I really wanted to just post the dang thing Anyway, now we know what happened with Mapigano and the newly named Wawinda (Yeah, I don’t see Mapigano as being on the same level of villain as Makucha or Scar or someone—he’s just a standard jerk, but has his soft side as well ) And lookie that, Queen Dhahabu got an heir! There’s nobody I ship her with, and I think she would be cool as this independent, unmarried monarch, so adopting a foal seemed both lovely and like it would fit in well with that ...The title is indeed a line from her song

(Side note: it never really made sense to me that Dhahabu was a queen, but the Backlands were still this dangerous territory full of poachers, and she only seemed to have power over a limited part of it. My personal interpretation is that she was trying to turn the Backlands into a kingdom, but had only swayed a portion of the population—eventually everyone came to an agreement, and split the territory into two parts. One remained the way it had always been, the other evolved into a kingdom.)

Description
Previous

---------

The herd’s scent carried on forward, but the leopard stood still.

Mapigano had picked up the zebra herd’s trace from their grazing grounds, followed it to and then past the watering hole, where it seemed that they had rested through the evening. Then they’d gone past the Iroko tree, and into the small jungle that lead right to the Hatari Canyons.

The canyons may have been leopard territory in the past, but they were somewhere that Mapigano preferred not to go—especially in harmattan season, when the whole area would become blanketed in sand from the Jangwa Desert. And if it was somewhere that he feared to go alone, he was certainly not taking the foal a step into this part of the Backlands.

“C’mon, kid,” said Mapigano, turning from where the pair stood at the Iroko tree, “No point in looking here. Let’s check the west border. They might have come back through, that way.”

~*~*~*~

Two days later and he was sure that the zebra herd had not, in fact, come back over the west border. He was starting to think that he would not be seeing them again, at all.

The fact that they had up and left the Backlands suggested that they were just passing through in the first place, and not a native herd that he just hadn’t recognized. Perhaps his hunt had hastened their migration—it didn’t seem likely to Mapigano that the herd had perished in a harmattan, not if migration was something they were used to. They would know how to handle unfriendly weather. But if they had been killed, and if was his hunting that pushed them to move on....

Mapigano looked guiltily at the zebra foal, who was nibbling with glee on what must have been a particularly tasty flower. The leopard was glad that zebras could eat vegetation so young, at least—he wouldn’t have survived a day without a mother, otherwise. Mapigano sighed, and sat down.

“What am I going to do with you, kid?” he asked.

The foal’s ears perked up, and he looked at him with a smile, before trotting up to him and nuzzling against his leg.

“Aw, no, don’t tell me you think your name is ‘Kid’, now?” Mapigano groaned, pulling away. When the foal looked to him eagerly, he added; “Great. Add that to the list of problems.”

The zebra tilted his head, and considered him for a moment. Soon enough he smiled again, before he reared up and planted his front hooves firmly on Mapigano’s shoulder. He then ducked away, and took up a fighting stance. The leopard laughed at first, before his face quickly fell.

“I can’t be your dad, lil’ guy,” he said, “Cubs just aren’t in my plans... foals really aren’t. Besides, I’m a bad influence, anyway! You’d end up all pushy ‘n’ grumpy, you’d grow an ugly beard—I mean, c’mon, you don’t want any part of this.”

The foal reared up again, kicking Mapigano’s side. He stood up, shaking his head.

“If I can’t keep you, and I can’t find your herd,” he growled, more to himself than to the foal, “Then where are you supposed to go? I can’t drop you off with anybody, I don’t know any bloody zebras!”

The foal had turned his attention to a butterfly, who’d landed on a nearby flower. He sniffed at the insect eagerly, and it fluttered its yellow wings in surprise. A moment later, the butterfly hopped from the flower to the foal’s nose. He whinnied, turning to Mapigano as the bug crawled up to his mane. The leopard couldn’t help but smile—that golden adornment looked rather cute on the zebra.

“Hey,” he thought aloud, an idea striking him as the butterfly flew off of the foal, fluttering past Mapigano’s eyes, “I don’t know any zebras... but there’s one I might be able to drop you with, anyhow.”

~*~*~*~

Mapigano had concealed the two of them deep, deep in the undergrowth, as they made their way through the neighboring territory. He had not stepped paw in the Dhahabu Plains since it split off from the Backlands into its own sovereign kingdom. Still, he recognized the landscape well enough to traverse it.

“A zebra monarchy never seemed right to me,” he whispered to the foal, as they trekked through the bushes and vines, “I guess it has its uses, though, huh?”

Mapigano could smell that they were getting close, and he slowed his pace. He put a paw on the foal’s shoulder, and said; “Now, you remember what we’re gonna do, right? When I tell you to go, you’re gonna burst through the bushes and run right up to the golden zebra.”

The foal whinnied eagerly.

“And then you’re gonna tell her your name—which is not Kid; you’re gonna say ‘my name is Wawinda, I’m an orphan, and one of you needs to be my new parent!’”

The foal looked up at him, silently.

“Alright, that might be too ambitious. But you can tell her you have a name, right? Say ‘Wawinda’!”

He whinnied.

“...Fine, they can name you,” Mapigano grumbled, “Why do I even try?”

Soon, the pair had made their way to the center of the Dhahabu Plains, to an area known as Dhahabu Grove. The queen had made this little waterfall her herd’s base of operation—the Plain’s equivalent to Pride Rock. It looked like most of the herd was home, frolicking in the shallow waters. Queen Dhahabu was among them, stood with her back to where Mapigano was crouched, chatting animatedly with two of her subjects.

“Looks like we’re all ready,” said Mapigano, “Okay, kid: go!”

The foal smiled brightly.

“...Go! Now. Jump out of the bushes,” the leopard urged.

He tilted his head.

“Mungu baba, you zebras,” Mapigano scoffed. Putting his paw on the foal’s back, he sent him toppling out of their hiding place with a crash.

While the young zebra scrambled to his hooves and ran towards the lake, the leopard slowly backed further into the undergrowth. He didn’t want the herd spotting him, but he wasn’t ready to leave—not until he was sure that the child would be safe, here. The zebras had heard the noises, and were already turning to see what what the disturbance was. Dhahabu trotted to the front of the herd, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh! O-oh my goodness, where did you come from, little one?” the queen asked. She looked to the zebras around her. “Who’s foal is this? Tepe, is this—no, you’ve got your girl with you. Pundamillia, is—no, no, that’s your boy there...”

Dhahabu bent down to meet the foal’s eyes.

“What’s your name, dear?”

The foal tilted his head.

“...Wawinda!” he chirped.

Mapigano’s ears perked up in surprise.

“Wawinda!” Dhahabu repeated, bending down to meet his eye, “You really aren’t one of ours, I don’t know any foals by that name. Did you get separated from your—oh... oh, dear.”

The curious herd had gathered around them, and she turned to the closest zebra as she said; “I think I know what happened to his family; he reeks of leopard.”

The zebras hummed and whinnied in understanding. Mapigano watched as Dhahabu nuzzled her snout against Wawinda’s, who giggled and attempted to headbutt her.

“You poor, sweet thing. How did you even manage to get here, all alone?” the golden zebra asked. “We certainly can’t let you stay that way! Spirits, this is a problem...”

She pushed her ears flat against her head, in thought. Her fellow zebras whispered nervously to each other, watching the queen with curious eyes. Finally, Dhahabu gasped and turned to her subjects with an eager grin.

“If there are no objections,” Dhahabu said, “I will be taking this foal into my care!”

As the herd reacted with cheers, Mapigano let out a sigh of relief, and turned to sneak back through the forest. As he walked, the eager chatter of the zebras becoming more and more distant behind him, he couldn’t help but to smile: he’d successfully gotten the annoying, troublesome, entirely-Mapigano’s-own-fault-he-got-orphaned little kid a family—a royal family, at that. He didn’t know if that erased his original screw up, in the eyes of the great spirits, but it was certainly the best he could do.

Mapigano paused, and brought up his paw to touch the wound on his face, gained his last hunt. It still stung, and he winced as he pulled his paw away. He was certain now that it would leave a scar—but, he realized with amusement, he had left his own mark, today: he’d named the next king of the Dhahabu Plains!

--------

No clue if anybody will remember this piece besides me, but this is indeed a sequel to that! I’ve been trying to write the follow-up literally since I posted the original (off and on, of course). Just couldn’t write it out in a way I found satisfactory, and I’ve finally kinda given up, cause I really wanted to just post the dang thing Anyway, now we know what happened with Mapigano and the newly named Wawinda (Yeah, I don’t see Mapigano as being on the same level of villain as Makucha or Scar or someone—he’s just a standard jerk, but has his soft side as well ) And lookie that, Queen Dhahabu got an heir! There’s nobody I ship her with, and I think she would be cool as this independent, unmarried monarch, so adopting a foal seemed both lovely and like it would fit in well with that ...The title is indeed a line from her song

(Side note: it never really made sense to me that Dhahabu was a queen, but the Backlands were still this dangerous territory full of poachers, and she only seemed to have power over a limited part of it. My personal interpretation is that she was trying to turn the Backlands into a kingdom, but had only swayed a portion of the population—eventually everyone came to an agreement, and split the territory into two parts. One remained the way it had always been, the other evolved into a kingdom.)