Nothing to Worry About
You step forward and lean down - a long way down - to the water. You have to kneel on your hoof-like hands and knees to balance your neck. Your giraffe mouth doesn't work the way you're used to; there's way too much tongue and lip, and you splash water all over trying to figure out how to drink it. You'd be soaked if the rest of your body was anywhere near your head. The lukewarm water is a relief after the sudden transformation and the hot savanna, though, and it isn't long before you're gulping it down like a pro. Any lingering doubts about the lions disappear when they continue to not attack you while you drink. Several of them start snoring again.
You straighten up again, soaked to your ears but more relaxed than you've been since this whole crazy chain of events started. That's when it hits you. All the lions are male - all the ones in sight, that is. Humanoid or not, you can't help thinking of all those wildlife shows you've seen.
It's not the male lions that hunt. It's the females.
Written by Chrysalis on 06 April 2008