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Pambana was patterned like a horse - a creature he had never seen, so he was unaware of how suited his racing temperament was to his pelt.
He had wanted to be as fast as possible since his mother first told him that cheetah were the fastest runners in the land. What could be better? Beating everyone at races, being able to quickly escape your enemy, a better odd at catching your prey?
He couldn't think of anything better, and running gave him a natural high, the wind in his short mane, the world whipping by as he pelted through the long grasses.
It could be difficult sometimes to find a suitable place for such running - long open plains were obviously the best. Due to the speed and duration it could not be done in any area that was remotely secluded.
Today Pambana had come to one such place, he took a deep breath in and smiled.