INVIGILATOR OF THE DAWN -

The herds came. Slowly at first, naught more than a trickle - then an entire conflagration of animals. They came in the hundreds, nay, quite possibly the thousands, and they were of every variety imaginable; there were gazelle and zebra, hares and wildebeest, elephants and large, towering giraffes - all of them led on to a singular place of felicity and longevity; the Oasis.

Many of them were accustomed to this procedure. Come the warm weather, much of the water in their home-lands would dry up. Rains would cease and vegitation would refuse to grow – a drouth all around - noxious and ofttimes fatal for those whom were physically unfit to make the voyage. If a mother or father was faithful to their child, they would carry them to the Oasis upon their backs. Sometimes, even with the assistance of paternal care, these ones did not make it; knowing this, parents would tearfully leave their children behind – some even bequeathed to them the gift of euthanasia. It was emotionally difficult for all. Few even took their own lives from the subsequent despair; after all, was not a child a product of one's own womb, an epitome of one's entire life and future being? In some cases, yes, if the child could not live, the parents died as well. Cheetato knew all of this and more.

He had been watching the herds with the titular role of Invigilator ever since his brother, Cheetata, was captured for hunting prey on the territory of a rogue pride named the Dorak'mahxi. Lucky for both him and his brother, they seemed to have a great deal of clemency for their subjects. Argumentative at first, both Cheetato and Cheetata came to an agreement when the Elder of the pride offered a compromise; Cheetata would help them hunt and Cheetato would keep track of the prey and their numbers. It was trite work, but it paid well in both food and friendship, and it allowed the both of them to keep their lives.

One of such friends was Mwangiza, a light-tannish lion with a thick mane and eyes as dark as a starless night. He padded up next to Cheetato and had a seat, perusing the herds with a stark look. "Magnificent sight, isn't it?" he said with a low, rumbling voice. "The herds are just fecund with flesh, waiting for us to take them."

"I'm dubious that these animals exist just for us to eat them." Cheetato replied softly. "Don't you think they live lives of their own?"

"Maybe so, maybe so – but why would Mungu make them so weak and infirm if he did not wish us to consume them?"

"Why do trees not walk? Why does the grass blow in the wind? Why do mountains stand tall and the rains fall? There are many things he does which we do not understand."

"You have some good points." Mwangiza said, raking his claws along the side of his cheek. "Still, the sight of them makes my mouth water."

"You might not infer from the tantalising amount you see here, but you'll be surprised to know that there are less this year than there were last." Cheetato stated dryly, watching the herds saunter along.

"Certainly not." He laughed. "Look at all of them!"

"I assure you, there is an extraordinary dearth of prey."

"Truly?" Mwangiza looked confused.

"Truly."

"Still, you cannot tell me that you don't look at all that and not feel the smallest bit of hunger." The lion motioned to the herds.

"Oh I admit it's titillating, but that's not what I've agreed to do. I only watch them; I don't hunt them. That's for your pride to do...and my brother." He smiled. "How is he doing, by the way?"

"He is good."

"Is that all? I've barely seen him as of late – surely there must be something else going on."

Mwangiza grinned. "Just a lot of hunting, and he seems to have taken up a fancy with Alyza." he said.

"Hm." It was more of an acknowledgement than a thought. "She's always been a bit coquettish."

"Hence your brother taking up a fancy." He smirked. "It seems to be mutual, but who can say?"

"I'd like to think he's smart enough to differentiate between infatuation and true love."

Mwangiza chortled slightly. "Yeah, true love. Come on, let's get you to your brother – you've done enough watching for the week."

There was a rivulet which ran through the veldt, a scanty thing and nearing desiccation. Some of the animals that were headed for the Oasis stopped there instead, lapping at the muddy waters which remained. Upon sighting the two predators, many of them fled. Others stayed put – too decrepit and weak to move. Cheetato and Mwangiza didn't bother with any of them, but rather passed them by. "Kill not the diseased and emaciated, I say." Mwangiza said as they ambled along.

"Seems a good philosophy." Cheetato replied. "Why eat haggard flesh when you can have a tender, sinewy steak?"

"Ask the hyenas. I'm sure they'd tell you." The older lion licked his lips. "How many less precisely?"

"At least three hundred per species. If my calculations are correct, which they usually are, the herds will be down to the tens within a few years."

"Where could they possibly be going?" Mwangiza looked at him with a tinge of concern.

'Into the stomachs of your pride, most like.' Cheetato thought. The Dorak'mahxi were the largest and fiercest band of lions he had ever seen. To feed all that, one would need thousands of herds. "I don't know. Maybe they have moved on to other lands." was his answer. Mwangiza was a decent friend, and he didn't need upset him with the truth of things.

They returned to a collation of sorts, every pride member gathered in several groups about the rocky dale that was their home. 'The hunting parties must be back.' With piqued curiosity, Cheetato eyed the groups in search for his younger brother. Amidst all of that chaos, however, it was difficult to spot anything. "You look for him." Mwangiza said, patting him on the back cordially. "I'll go and give the Elder your report."

"Thank you." Cheetato smiled at the lion then resumed inspecting the crowds.

Out of the entire hubbub that was the Dorak'mahxi pride, Cheetato was only acquainted with a select few. Most others ignored him of their own volition, and others despised him for being an outsider and of a different species – but he didn't mind, so long as dealing with their bosh kept him and his brother safe and fed. He had a few decent friends, too; Malani, another cheetah of younger age, whom found a copious amount of happiness in Cheetato's company and tutelage; Beth, a younger lioness belonging to a sub-family of the Dorak'mahxi pride. Her family was somewhat abusive, never bothering to hearken to her or give mind to her toils – but that was alright, as she could confer with Cheetato at length about her problems, and he was always willing to give her an ear or two; Gharil, a rather reclusive individual who seldom spoke up during conversations and was, for the most part, socially inept. Aside from the awkward disposition which pervaded everywhere he went, he was a decent friend to Cheetato, and friends were rare enough in this dolorous world; and last but not least, Mwangiza, the cheetah's closest friend – it was thanks to him that Cheetato and his brother were allowed to live amongst the lions without much interference. The Elder was all for impetuously and impudently executing the transgressors of their soil, but Mwangiza saw some sort of worth in the outsiders, and having such leverage with the Elder as he did, convinced him to let the two cheetahs live.

A few more minutes of searching granted him the company of Beth, whom was as happy to see him as ever. When she saw him ambling about in the midst of the crowds, she immediately called his name and trotted over. "Beth." he acknowledged, with all of the cordiality he could possibly conceive. "How fare thee this morn?"

"I am well." she replied with a smile. There was something about her countenance when she smiled that irrefutably prepossessed him. "All of this chaos!" she exclaimed with a paw upon her fore-head.

"Veritably. What is it of?"

"Some of the hunting parties have returned with their weekly contributions."

"As I suspected – and my brother?"

She shook her head. "His party isn't back yet; though I've no doubt they will be soon."

"Hopefully so. A week without his company is a week too long. Growing up, we never left each-other's sides."

"You should count yourself fortunate to have a brother that loves you." She chuckled sadly. "Mine would not even deign to give me the faintest semblance of a a grin; and when he does grin, it is usually before he's about to commit some impudent act of violence or defamation ."

Cheetato made somewhat of a disgruntled noise. "That truly is a shame. Have you conferred with your father about this?"

"Conferred, and at length. He is of no witness to what occurs, and subsequently refuses to take action."

"You have my condolences." he said with a frown. "I'm sure conditions must ameliorate themselves eventually."

"Certainly, but who could say when?"

"Hopefully soon." Cheetato gave her somewhat of a reasurring smile, then decided to switch the subject to take her mind off of things. "Say, would it be too much of a burthen if I was to eat with you today? Seeing as my brother has not yet returned, and I am not oft welcome amongst the denizens of this pride, it would be a fair bit better if I was in familiar company."

"Oh...sure, that would be fine!" She smiled softly. "However, I've also invited a few others to sup with me."

"Whom?"

"No one you'd have to worry about." she consoled him, "Besides, the people you don't like are the people I don't like. Anyways, it'll be in half an hour if you wish to join."

"Alright, that sounds good – thank you." He smiled at her again and wished her farewell, turning to visit the local tarn.

When he arrived at the pond, there was little to nought in occurrence aside from a few flies buzzing about. Sighing, he brought his head down and had a few laps at the placid water – when the ripples ceased, he got a moment to peruse his reflection. 'Still Cheetato.' he thought, a bit glumly. Throughout all of his life, he supposed, he had always been the same cheetah; intellectually superlative in a world of blithe fools – his fears had been bolstered when he and his brother had a run-in with that trio of drivelling hyenas some odd years ago. In a way, it was his bane that harried him through the years; ofttimes he wondered if possibly he was too smart – or mayhap, just mayhaps he had an average mind and everyone else was at such a droll level below him. Cheetato wasn't exactly one for believing in reincarnation, but if it existed, he wondered what he would have done in a past life to deserve such a punishment.

A light tap on the shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts, and when he turned to see who it was, he found a large tawny-gray lion with one green eye and one blind staring upon him; the Elder, whose purblindness resulted from a scuff as a child – it was that eye which so many found a fright, and one of the reasons why he was so greatly revered. "Missing out on the feast, Invigilator?" he said, lips curling into a small grin.

"Not so, actually; I'm scheduled to eat with Be-"

"Those plans have been cancelled." he interjected in a casual manner.

"Pardon?" Cheetato eyed him curiously, attempting to spot the slightest mote of maleficient intent, but there was none he could find – then again, it wouldn't surprise him; the Elder had made a habit of cullying him and his brother afore.

"I have new plans for you – plans which don't involve sitting on your tail and watching herds all day – and they're just as exigent as they are pertinent."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Mwangiza told me the statistics of your observations, and it doesn't take an intellectual to know what they mean."

"With no offense intended, I must politely aver that the reason for the dearth in prey is due to y-"

"I have already considered such theories, and while it might be appealing to come to that conjecture, I have done the mathematics several times and I have determined that the Dorak'mahxi are not the only cause."

Cheetato looked at him a moment, trying to formulate a response; he was almost sure the Dorak'mahxi were the cause, and learning that they weren't gave him a whit of a surprise. "Are you certain?"

"Quite, unfortunately – as copious as our pride is, I'm afraid there are other forces at work here. I've spoken with me council, and we've decided that it'd be best if you followed the herds and saw exactly where it is they go and what they preoccupy themselves with – if they are vanishing as we fear, then it is your duty to figure out how."

"My duty, or my duress?"

"A whit of both." He chuckled.

"And of my brother? I haven't gotten to see him – and Beth? She'll be expecting me soon."

"Both have been readily obviated. Your brother will be coming with you for the journey, and I've already sent out someone to inform Beth of your departure."

"Thank you." Cheetato said, somewhat dejectedly. "Might I say my farewells, at least?"

"Of course. Take the time you need, as you'll be gone for a long while; trust me, you will be missed." he replied with a grin.

Before they left for their itinerations, the two brothers joined the Elder and his small council for a brief meal. After an arduous week of Cheetato watching and Cheetata hunting, it was the least the Elder could do as a farewell gift. Together, the brothers caught up on a myriad of different subjects and findings, and together they feasted upon a small variety of animals – a great deal of relief for Cheetato, whom hadn't eaten properly for the last few days.

It was a gelid and clear night when Cheetato and his brother set out into the savannah, the world a humble susurrus of its antipodal, daylit self. There had been a bit of talking to do when his brother finally returned, and though the two had their minor differences, they were usually able to confer on a mutual level of thought and sentiment. "The hunt was a vacuous excursion into folly." his brother had told him as they walked, "And while I bit back my tongue in the Elder's precense, I must make an excursion into the land of discomfiture and say that I've never seen a bigger lack of prey in all of my years - though at least others were more fortunate."

Cheetato gave a small nod of acknowledgement, then switched the subject. "Our absence will be hard on Beth and little Malani."

"I'm sure Beth is capable of sorting things out on her own accord." his brother assured him. "Besides, there's plenty of time to fix things when we return."

"If we ever do."

Cheetata laughed gently then cast his brother an oblique glance. "Veritablty we must; it'd be nonsense to believe otherwise. Say, what of our dear cobber?"

"Mwangiza? What about him?"

"Was he not informed of our departure?"

"It must have slipped my mind." He frowned slightly and gave a sigh. "That'd be right."

"Don't worry about it; if they told Beth, she's sure to inform him."

After hours of trundling through the brush, they finally came to a clearing which overlooked a good part of the Matope river and the spotted areas of jungle behind. From what they could descry, there was no prey about at this late and still time of night – and if there was, they were being unusually surreptitious and prudent. "We can camp here for the night," Cheetato whispered to his brother, "I'm sure the herds will be out in the morning, and once they are, we'll have a go at approaching them amiably."

"And if they run?"

"Then we'll follow. Though there won't be much need if we adhere to the plan."

"Which plan is that?" his brother asked, raising an eyebrow.

"When you hunt, you try to pick off the young, as they're usually the easiest targets. The same philosophy also applies to diplomatic situations; the young, whom are mostly uneducated in the lurid ways of this world, will be more inclined to listen to a stranger – even a predator. If we can convince the young that we mean no harm, then it will be easier to convince the old."

"Not by much, I presume. Also, how are we supposed to keep ourselves fed if we can't kill them?"

"We'll find smaller creatures to sup upon; meerkats and the like – we need their cooperation in the mulling of this issue, or else there won't be any prey left – and for cooperation, we need their trust."

Cheetata scratched his chin, thinking over the plan quietly. "I suppose we'll see how it goes in the morning" he concluded, flopping down beneath the cover of some foliage. His older brother smiled and did much the same, burrowing himself into a flowery and pungent bush. "Good-night, brother." he said lazily.

"Good-night." came Cheetata's soft reply.

For a while the two brothers laid there, listening to the other breathe and taking solace in the knowledge that the other was alive and well. In this manner, sleep came easily to Cheetato, whom garnered happiness in the company of his brother – much akin to the comfort he felt as a cub so many years erst. He did not know if it was sordid to find pleasure in that way, or if it counted as a droll form of kindness. Shrugging to himself, he allowed his mind to wander and beget worlds and universes of its own, his eyes furtively keeping track of his surroundings. He listened as Cheetata's breaths became more drawn out, and then torpidly crawled to a stop; he was asleep, and knowing that, Cheetato could rest comfortably. The world around him faded into darkness; solid entities became strange and sublime daemons which marched across the ebon infinity of his mind; the things which were real became surreal; forms became without, and in the split-second before he lost himself to a dream, he could have sworn he espied a great saffron flame alighting from the sky.