Show me how to lie
You're getting better all the time
And turning all against the one
Is an art that's hard to teach
Another clever word
Sets off an unsuspecting herd
And as you step back into line
A mob jumps to their feet
You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

Sansasha lay by the river, happily losing herself in its noise. It had become a comforting sound, one she tried to find as often as she could. She'd found it helped herself think, helped her escape a little bit from the world.

"Sashie?"

Sansasha looked up. "Mom? What are you doing here?"

"I—uh—I came to see your father. Is he around? I didn't see—"

"Dad's taking care of stuff with Sambi. He always is around this time. You know that."

"Oh, yes, right . . ." She pawed at the ground. "Silly me. . . . Er . . . well, do you think you could, you know . . . maybe find some time for me to talk with him?"

Sansasha glared at her, before getting up as she exclaimed, "Oh my God, this again?"

"No, Sashie, it's not like that. You don't know how much I miss him—"

Sansasha started walking away. "You don't miss him, Mom. You don't even care about him; all you want is his stupid prestige."

"Sashie, that's not true!"

"Don't call me Sashie!" she yelled. "You can't call me that! That's his name for me, not yours!"

"But Sash—Sansasha . . . honey . . ."

"Look, if you want to have the privilege of being Dad's personal slut, you'll have to talk to him yourself. But don't try to get to him through me."

"Sansasha, I never wanted that. I care about your father—"

"You've been trading off sex for favors for every gang leader in power for my entire life! You left Dad because Dhahabu got more influence than he did. And three months after that you were shacking up with Mfalme! I know just what you are."

"I did what I had to do—"

"Hah! That justifies it? What about me, Mom? You left me with him."

"I wanted to take you with—"

"That's bullshit!" yelled Sansasha. "You never would have taken me! Dad's the only one of you two that even cared! You've been a shitty excuse for a mother, and now you just expect to come crawling back?"

"Sansasha, please, you have to believe me!"

Sansasha shook her head. "No. I don't have to do anything. I've got the power here, you've got nothing. I'm not going to let you back into our family just so you can leave again. You're going to walk out of here, and you're going to never come back, you hear me? I don't want to see you again, and I'm sure Dad doesn't either."

"Sashie—"

"LEAVE!" she screamed. She watched her mother slowly turn and walk away. Sansasha lay down by the river, and sighed. She stared into the river and watched as it slowly ebbed her anger away.

oOo

Two years. It had been two years since his exile, Rayan reflected. It had been a difficult transition, most especially from being one of the most powerful animals in his world to being someone that no one cared about at all. Two years of being nobody. It was almost a relief in some ways. He didn't know how he ever would have been a father otherwise.

Two years had passed, and already Reyn was so independent. He was a model of Reen more than Rayan; always willing to give out favors to whoever asked, always wanting to help wherever he could. Reyn was smarter than his father, Rayan could see that easily. It was a challenge raising him; the one word he seemed to live by was "why?"

It was sometimes embarrassing, the amount of time he spent with Reyn as opposed to being with Kaata. Kaata simply wasn't what he wanted in a cub; Reyn was always willing and ready to help others, while Kaata was more submissive and shy about it, preferring to quietly spend time with her mother. Rayan spent almost no time with his daughter, Reyn simply needing more attention to satisfy his appetite for the world.

It was times like these that he wanted to have his father alive, to have him to turn to in aid for guiding cubs. Reen had always been there for Rayan; he had never had any trouble giving Rayan the space he needed to grow; for Rayan, the strain for more that Reyn had was too much. Rayan felt him slipping away almost daily, his grip over the cub tightening uselessly. Was it really too much to ask for Reyn to be a little more like Kaata? To need his family a bit more?

"Rayan, you can come back over here," said Kria. "You know just sitting out there waiting isn't going to make him come any sooner."

"I don't think he's been gone this long before," said Rayan.

"He always comes back, Dad. You know that," said Kaata. She continued eating at the carcass with her mother.

"I'm just worried. Is it wrong for a father to be worried about his cubs? In this kingdom of all places . . ."

"You know they won't hurt him, Dad. They don't have any reason to."

"But what if he gets mixed up in the wrong crowd? The last thing we need is for him to be in some gang, going around killing needlessly—"

"He's home, dear," said Kria.

Rayan turned around. "Hey, Dad!" said Reyn, running up, a cheetah cub by his side.

"You shouldn't have been gone so long, I was worried," said Rayan. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Daba," Reyn said, turning to the cheetah cub.

"Hey," said Daba.

"Well hello, Daba," said Kria. "It's nice to meet you. You want to have something to eat? We were just finishing up."

"Sure!" said Daba. "That'd be great!"

"Reyn, you never told us you were bringing a friend home," said Kria.

"I don't think he's even told us about—Daba, was it?"

"Mm-hmm!" said Daba, his mouth already stuffed with meat.

"We just met a couple of days ago," said Reyn. "Hey Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Who do we pay protection to?"

Rayan couldn't believe the words coming out of his son's ears. "I beg your pardon?"

"Daba's not supposed to be here if it's Jito."

"We are not going to stoop to paying protection," said Rayan. "This is a proud family, son. Don't forget that."

Daba swallowed, half-choking on the meat. "You mean you don't pay any protection?" He coughed. "To nobody?"

"No. Why should we? We've done nothing wrong."

"Yeah, but what if someone comes up in here and decides they just want somethin'?"

"No one has done any such thing in the past two years that we've been here. Why would they start now?" said Rayan reasonably. "We simply aren't going to affiliate ourselves with needless gang brutality."

"You ain't gonna what?"

"Dad doesn't like the gangs," said Reyn.

"Why not? They're awesome!" said Daba.

"Yes, well, awesome or not, I trust you two have more than enough sense to not get involved with them. We're decent animals, we don't need any trouble."

The conversation carried on for a few more minutes, Reyn and Daba happily eating as Rayan and Kria continued to ask questions about their guest. It wasn't until a little later that Reyn asked, "Hey, Dad? Do you mind if I walk Daba home?"

"Isn't it a little late? I can take Daba home myself," said Rayan.

"Aw, come on Dad, please? It's not that far!"

Rayan opened his mouth, but felt Kria's paw move on top of his own. "Sure, but make sure you come back soon, dear."

"Thanks, Mom!" said Reyn. He began to trot off. Daba followed him, then stopped and said, "Oh, yeah, thanks for the meal and stuff!" before running after Reyn.

Rayan looked at Kria. "Don't worry, sweetie," she said, nuzzling him. "He'll be fine. You've got to let him have some freedom."

Rayan sighed as he watched the two half-cubs walking into the distance. "I know," he said reluctantly. But I don't want to.

oOo

"Hey, sorry about all the questions and stuff," said Reyn.

"It's okay," said Daba. "Your parents are cool."

"So . . . wanna hang out tomorrow or something?"

"Sure!" said Daba. "Wanna meet at the Waterhole?"

"Yeah, sounds good," said Reyn. "See you then!"

Daba smiled as he watched Reyn go, then turned to walk to his mother. He heard the usual noise: an angry cheetah that had run out of herbs. He lay down a good distance from her, trying to ignore the noise. Maybe this was why cheetahs were such solitary creatures.

oOo

Kigune walked through the grass, heading toward the waterhole. The full moon was beginning to shine brighter in the sky, darkness enveloping the land. It was beautiful, turning the land's golden savannah into waves of silver.

Kigune really didn't care.

Something more pressing was on his mind: killing Jito. Granted, it was an extremely stupid thing to do, but the lion was leaving him with almost no other option. He had been squeezing down on his territory, muscling in on all of his enterprises, simply for his own personal gain.

Just how was that fair?

Someone had to do something, and since all of his allies were suddenly abandoning him, Kigune found himself on his own. His own gang was miserably small, after the numerous bribes and double-crosses that had happened. Two years ago he'd owned this kingdom; there had been no one to stand in his way.

He'd find a way to kill Jito if it was the last thing he did.

A rustle in the grass made him stop and turn. A lion half-cub stepped out of the grass, stopping when he saw Kigune. "What do you want?" Kigune growled in annoyance.

The cub hesitantly began to walk around Kigune. "Er—nothing. I was just out here . . . I didn't mean to bother you." He looked away, trying to escape.

"Whatcha scared of, cub?" asked Kigune with a smile.

The half-cub stiffened. "Nothing, nothing . . . I should just be getting home, that's all," he said. "It's late . . ."

"Well where do you live? You lost?"

"Yes," the half-cub said quietly.

Kigune laughed out loud at the cub's obvious terror. "Relax, kid, I'm not gonna hurt ya. You wanna get back home?" The half-cub nodded mutely. "We can make that happen. Where you live?"

"Southeast of the Waterhole."

Kigune's eyes widened; that was Jito's territory—and had used to be his own. "Don't worry, I know how to get there. We'll be there in a second. Come on."

He began walking toward the cub's home, his mind working. Finally he turned to the half-cub and asked, "Hey, what's your name, kid?"

The cub hesitated and then said, "Reyn."

"Reyn? Kind of a weird name."

"It's mine," said the cub defensively.

"Not trying to insult you or anything," he said. "Who you with?"

"What do you mean?"

"What crew?"

"I'm not in a gang."

Kigune's eyes widened ever so slightly. He looked down at the half-cub. "Is that so? Why not?"

"Dad doesn't like 'em."

"I don't see why not. They're the backbone of Daima." He looked back down at Reyn. "You ever thought about getting in one?"

"Um . . . yeah, a little," admitted the half-cub.

"Well, I'm always looking for new sets of paws. Why don't you try your luck over with my crew?"

"Really?" asked the half-cub.

"Yeah, sure," said Kigune. "Just come over to—hmm . . . Well, it's a little bit north of the Waterhole. Little bit to the east of the royal den. Know the place?"

"I think I can find it."

Kigune smiled. "I'm sure you can. Hey, you think you can find your way back home from here?"

"Yeah. Thanks, uh . . ."

"It's Kigune." He turned and started to walk away with an ever-widening smile. "See you tomorrow, kid."

oOo

Daba arrived at the waterhole the next day and began to lap up some water. He suddenly felt someone ram into him and began coughing and spluttering. "What the hell was that for, Reyn?" he said angrily before coughing again.

"Sorry about that, but look, I found this great thing," he said, almost bouncing up and down.

"What is it?" asked Daba, clearing his throat.

"You know how you said you wanted to be in a gang?"

Daba's eyes widened. "No way! How'd you manage it?"

"I just found this guy last night. He offered to let me in, and I'm sure he'd do the same for you."

"Awesome! Who is it?"

"It's this Kigune guy."

Daba tried to remember the name. "Him? But he's just small stuff."

"Well, you've gotta start somewhere, right? Besides, this is a lot easier than making our own," Reyn pointed out.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right . . ."

"Come on, he told me to meet him today!"

oOo

Kigune lied lazily in the grass, basking in the shade of a tree. He heard rustling and turned his head with a smile. He saw Reyn break through the grass, followed by a cheetah of the same age. "Hey!" said Reyn.

"Who's this?" asked Kigune, his smile vanishing.

"Oh, this is Daba. You mind if he comes along?"

Kigune looked over at the smiling cheetah. "Weeell . . . I suppose one more couldn't hurt. Alright. Welcome to the club, boys."

"Yeah!"

"Alright!"

"Course, there are a few little things, stuff like that. Making sure you work with our whole operation. See, we can't just have anyone with us. We need someone who has the community's interest at heart. Someone who wants to make a real difference, who's willing to sacrifice. Gotta put the group before yourself, you know. Think you two can do that?"

"Yeah, of course!" said Reyn.

"Whatever you need!"

Kigune's smile widened. "You know, I think you boys will fit in perfectly."

oOo

Jabali walked into the grass. The scent markings had said this was Rayan's place, he had to be here somewhere . . . "Oh, hi guys, there you are." Rayan's head snapped up to him, Kria and Kaata's staying down.

"Quiet," said Rayan. "They're napping."

"Ah. Well, anyway, I just came by, wanted to see you."

"Let's walk a little further away," Rayan said to the prince. "Kaata's a relatively light sleeper . . ."

As they walked, Jabali said, "I'm glad to see your family hard at work serving the community."

"Um . . . well, thank you, but what exactly do you mean?"

"Reyn, of course. He's been doing well, working with Kigune. He's obedient, he's willing, he's always ready to help. You've raised an excellent son."

"Why thank you, sire, but I have to tell you—I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jabari looked at Rayan curiously. "You do know what your son's been up to, don't you?"

"Well, I've assumed he's been off having fun with friends or something like that. I didn't exactly have the luxury of free time in my cubhood; I'm honestly not quite sure what he'd be doing."

"Rayan—Reyn's joined a gang."

"He what?"

"Yes, and he's wonderful in it. He's really hit his niche."

"But this is—this is terrible!"

"I don't follow," said Jabali. "What's so bad about it?"

"I don't want him in with a bunch of conniving thugs and murderers!"

"Thugs and murderers?"

"Yes! Don't you have any idea what's going on in your own kingdom?"

Jabali smiled. "I think I have a better idea than anyone—and definitely better than my father. I'm assuming you heard all this from him?"

"You said this yourself, the moment we walked in!"

"I wouldn't have ever said they were murderers and thugs," said Jabali. "They cause a bit of a stir sometimes, but you have to admit, life would be pretty boring without some surprises. There may be a murder here and there, but overall, they're the lifeblood of Daima. They're what keeps it running, what keeps it alive. Your son has joined a noble profession."

"Noble profession of killer?"

"More like—servant of the kingdom. Besides, now you're giving back. I realize your need was great, and I'm assuming that's why the gangs have been so lenient on you—but Reyn has put his first paw forward with this. It's good to see him sacrificing for his family."

"You're making less and less sense," said Rayan shortly.

"Ah . . . sorry about that. You do know what he does, right?"

"Goes out and beats down innocents?"

Jabali laughed. "Hardly. I believe I saw him guarding the herds last time I saw him."

"You mean stealing."

"Guarding?"

"Well yes. What did you do in Sanctuary?"

"We hunted when we needed to."

"Well, you see, it occurred to a king—Giza, oddly enough—that the only way one could measure success was by what he had. Of course, there's the most obvious way to do this—land—but the animals inside the kingdom couldn't exactly secede—they'd be taken right back in through overwhelming pressure. So it somehow was decided that food would be the currency of the kingdom. Granted, territory still plays a small part in this—you need sufficient land to feed and water your herds—but the herds still are the most noticeable sign of wealth."

"I've never heard of anything so—strange. Why would you need to measure yourself by benchmarks?"

"There's not exactly an easy answer to that. I'm sure you had some kind of council back in Sanctuary; the basic principle applies here. Originally, Giza was so selfish that he said that all of the herds were his and his alone, as he was the king—as if simply being ruler of the land entitled him to everything in it. Of course, more sensible animals came around, and they decided to take control of herds themselves by force—there was nothing the king could do about it, he was only one animal after all. And whoever had the most herds had the most animals depending on him—the biggest sway in the community. Sometimes the king does meet with the gang leaders, and of course, they're given voice by their herds."

"So Reyn's . . ."

"Guarding his gang's herd, of course. It's a small group, only five whole people in it—but Kigune used to be the best gang leader around. He's fallen on hard times. It's not his fault—he was good, willing to sacrifice for the community, and they took advantage of him."

"Who?"

"The other gangs. Jito, mainly. He's the one that gives Daima a bad name. He thinks only of himself. He's heartless, ruthless—he wouldn't even kiss his mother if he didn't get something out of it. And the worst of it is that he controls—because of his tactics—more land and food than anyone else. And his daughter, from what I here, is turning out just as bad."

"I see. Well, that could be a problem, I suppose. Wouldn't want one animal starving all the rest."

"Exactly. You seem like a reasonable enough animal."

"So what Reyn is doing—"

"Is good. He's helping out his community, sacrificing his own self for everyone else—that's the kind of exemplary service all of Daima needs."

"And here I thought that this was a terrible place to live," said Rayan. "No offense, sire."

"None taken. You've probably just been listening to my father. Really, this is a wonderful kingdom, the healthiest around. And we get new residents every day. Not too many kingdoms can say that."

Rayan smiled. "Maybe Daima isn't such a bad place after all."

oOo

Kigune loved Reyn. He was smart, able, and always produced, no matter what was asked for him—all of it simply for the gang. He asked nothing in return, nothing back at all—he only took what was absolutely needed to feed his family, nothing more. It had easily been his best choice in his career. If Kigune said he needed something, even if he hinted at it, it was there, magically placed there by Reyn.

It was teaching Reyn the art of influence that was the most difficult. He had a tendency to talk straight. He refused to hide his motives; he simply wore them on his chest. It made him easy to read—and easy to trust. All Kigune had to do was teach Reyn to speak a little more influentially, to take out a word here and put in a word there—

Reyn did it perfectly.

It was simple and easy—all Reyn had to realize was that it was simply for the good of others that he acted—one animal sacrificed for the many. He helped those that needed him most without a second thought. There were times when Kigune didn't have to say a word and it was so—Reyn had become almost self-sufficient.

It was two months after Kigune had taken Reyn under his wing when half of a competitor's herd had come to his own. The competitor had been said to be under tremendous stress. His entire family had been deathly ill, and he was in no position to control his herds. It was better to give them to the community after all, so there would be no waste.

It was two weeks after that that another competitor had too much land for so few herds. It was only fair that it be distributed accordingly to how much each gang needed. It was divided up, Kigune's space expanding so that he could better fulfill his civic duty.

Three days later another competitor came to Kigune, willingly giving up what he had, more than happy to serve under Kigune's able leadership.

Kigune lay in the grass, simply looking over his gang's land. "We can do a lot with this, Reyn," he said. "For the betterment of civilization, of course. Doubling what we have in just a few months—imagine the aid we could give in year."

"Uh, Kigune . . . I kinda noticed a problem. We're losing the herds faster than they're replenishing. We have more than enough land, but—"

Kigune laughed. "Don't worry about that, kid."

"Really?"

"Of course. Don't worry, if worst comes to worst, one of the bigger guys can help us out. They've got too many herds as it is. They don't need all of them."

"Well, that does make sense," admitted Reyn.

"Besides, we're doing more good than any of them ever could be. Not a single person who's come here asking for aid has been turned down, not a single needy family gone unfed. That, kid, is progressive. That is what the world needs to be. Just one big happy family, where we all watch each other's backs."

"It's just a shame that some are too stupid to see it," said Reyn.

"It certainly is," agreed Kigune. "I gotta tell ya, kid, me and you—we make a great team. You got ideas, you got potential. It's like you ain't even an animal; you're my own personal force of nature."

Reyn smiled. "I had a good teacher."

Kigune chuckled as he grabbed Reyn, shaking him slightly. "Trust me, you're gonna do great."