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Mtembei had managed to score significant alone time with Kitambi a total of twice since they'd been back. In neither case had anything resembling romance transpired. They discussed what of their life they had left, then what they had lost.
Kitambi had walked away from him both times.
A different kind of lion would be angry with her. Him? He found this all distressing. It was a problem to be solved with geniality, not judgement. Placing blame for the struggles in their relationship would lead somewhere very dark, very quickly. He wanted no part of that.
Late one night, Mtembei approached the den with a bird limp in his jaws.
He carefully set it down so that he may call to her.
"Kitambi!"