[COMPLETE] African Pride

1. Catching Poachers before Curfew

The light of full moon shined down from the skies above, coating the large boulders that littered the ground in a way that reminded me of silver nuggets. The air was filled with the chirping of crickets and the rustling of animals within the African bush. It was a warm night, cloudless and peaceful, the perfect night for poachers to hunt their prey.

I am so going to be grounded.

The green lights of the digital watch on my wrist glowed 8:30 p.m. Just perfect. I had no more than thirty minutes to finish this job before I had to rush home, sneak back into my room and pretend to be asleep before my father returned from work. If Baba made his check-up rounds on my siblings and I's bedrooms and I wasn't in mine, there would be hell to pay. No afterschool activities, no mobile or computer use, I couldn't go to my Uncle's village, or worse—Halima would be sent on a little "holiday" at the animal sanctuary. But the punishment was worth it at a time like this.

What type of teenager do you know, has a curfew at nine? I grumbled.

A deep, yet melodic chuckling filled my head. My eyes traveled to one of the large boulders a couple of meters away from where I laid in the tree. I could roughly make out the outline of a large, quadruped animal, camouflaged within the darkness. The figure shifted in its position, a pair of green eyes glowing in the night as a lions' head lifted slightly from its hiding place, before lowering back down.

That was Halima.

At times she could be both my greatest ally or my greatest annoyance, but normally she was the former. Some people had normal pets like a friendly dog, or a pessimistic cat. At this point, I could go for even a goldfish. At least it wouldn't sass me on important missions like this. But no, I had to have a lion, but I knew better than to label Halima as a pet. She regularly would threaten to rip the throat out of anyone who did so. There were times when we would argue and fight. We even played pranks on each other as siblings would. However, she does have "pet like" qualities. I hear that normal cats give their owners little gifts, like dead rats or live birds. Halima, on the other hand, has dropped off a porcupine of two on several occasions. It's nice to know that in her own way, she is bringing me offerings of her affection, but it does churn a person's stomach, especially is there's breakfast involved. Although, most people would consider such actions beastly, I wouldn't give Halima up for the world.

What other teenager—other than you of course—do I know hides out in a Black Ironwood tree to ambush poachers? Halima asked sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes. Halima, since when did you become such a smart ass?

Who said I wasn't one from the beginning?

Currently, Halima laid on the ground, flattening herself against the dirt as best she could to make herself seem invisible. All I could see through the tall, swaying grass were her tawny ear tips, and the lines that her claws left in the ground. We both had chosen our spots carefully, me within the Black Ironwood tree—called Nyeusi Iron Mbao in Swahili—and her close to the earth. I was in the tree to see car lights in the distance, Halima was on the ground to feel for vibrations. That, and cats have a tricky history with trees. It's a bit hard to explain to a firefighter that your pet lioness is stuck in a tree while the two of you were hunting poachers. One way or another, someone would end up in a sanctuary.

I was dressed from head to toe in a black bodysuit, enabling me to blend into the branches of the tree. The most striking feature—in my opinion—was the full-face mask that was in the shape of a lion, its mouth opened in a terrifying snarl. The griddle in front of the mouth allowed me to breathe, and amplified my voice. On my back, I carried a two-meter-long staff, while on my side was machete that I only used in case of emergencies. My sharp eyes watched the road for any sign of movement or any flickering of light. Halima and I had to keep the object of surprise if this plan was to work.