Tartok raised his maned head, the fur shimmering in the halflight that filtered through the formations overhead. He licked his paws disinterestedly, though he was very much interested. His ears caught every sound, from the pawsteps of his Pride to the distant monotonous tone of dripping water. He lifted icy eyes to the leopardess that stood above and issued her invite. He shook his pelt free of sand and anything else he might acquired while napping in the meeting room. He lifted his muzzle to his Queen. "I will attend, if you wish, Fade."
Tuktu watched the movements of a pheasant through slitted eyes. From her throat emerged the satisfied purr of a cat who could afford to let the bird go about its business, but there were other cats who would appreciate the meal and it worked to relieve her stress and the anxiety that built up from fear of pressing attacks. She padded forward on stealthy paws, happily trailing the ignorant fowl. When it rose its head and began to call in alarm, she took it, enjoying the thrill of blood in her throat. It was blood that did not leave her guilty or vulnerable and she reveled in it.