A breeze blew through the branches of the baobab tree, rattling the dry gourds Rafiki had hung among them. In the heat of the savanna, both the cool breeze and the shade of the baobab’s leaves were very welcome to the mandrill, and she sighed happily. Yes, she truly had found a good place to call her new home in this part of the Pridelands. Food and shelter were both in abundance within this beautiful, giant tree she had claimed, and from the right part of the canopy or lower branches she could see for miles. Though...perhaps she would try her hand at finding what fruits or bugs she might be able to forage for on the ground as well as within her home. Grabbing her walking stick—truly, she didn’t need it on the flat ground, but it was of use for much more than just walking—she clambered down the baobab’s broad trunk and dropped to the ground.
Barely a moment later, she heard a rustling in the tall grass nearby. It was a quiet rustle, like something trying not to be heard.