The fungal forest smelled like rot and certain death. Sparse grasses and redtails tickled underfoot, while the ground itself was either a thick layer of mud, or covered in swamp water. Mushrooms, usually small things attached to decaying wood, now dwarfed the large tsabhua. Worse-still, in the wind they shed harsh spores, and even without it, many slowly dripped sticky sap from their caps. The twisted branches and fields of layered swamp continued far into the distance, rising as mountains of deep terrain.

"You can't be serious about asking me to go in there, right?" Skritch raised an eyebrow. The tsabhua Captain, a sickly-looking white runt, wasn't easily convinced to do anything. Shenzi felt quite like a mother trying to force a child out of bed when she involved him, but this afternoon, it was a must. "We are," she answered, tightening the strap to a bag around her waist before tossing an escape rope over it. "Like it or not, Skritch, you're an adult, and we need to feed the Prince before it's too late. The royal tark'ee bloodline is in danger."

The Captain knew better than to reject the activity–to do so would mean that Shenzi would drag him off by the tail whether he liked it or not. But he would complain, especially as his first step into the swamp sunk his all-white foot into brown mud. "Why should I care about some dumb prince?" He bickered, "Am I not as good as prince?" Shenzi didn't even bother with that one. "No, you're not," she cut back, "Look–" The one benefit of the soft ground was that it also tracked their prey. In the dirt were small, hoven hoofprints reminiscent of the tribe's own, single head of livestock. "Nukap?" Skritch realized. "Yup!" Shenzi responded, "We're gonna hunt it."

The gasp that broke the air may have scared off every beast of prey within a hundred miles. "Shenzi!" Skritch yelped, "That's a pet!" Shenzi had a flash-back to a memory wherein a kukuri also complained about the logistics of violence in hunting. "This is about survival," she gave him a hard poke on the nose. "You don't want the royal tark'ee to die, do you?" The disgruntled Captain managed to shut up long enough for the two to travel down their swampside path, feet still squelching in the dull mud. Despite this, Shenzi felt somewhat uneasy–something about hearing the chirps of birds throughout the fungal forest, but never seeing one.

"Disgusting." Skritch snorted abruptly at something on the ground and flicked it away with his hind leg. Shenzi turned sharply after it, seeing the mud ball he kicked land nearby. The black tsabhua regretfully lowered her nose, breathing in the scent of jungle stink and–"Nukap!" Her orange eyes shot wide. The annoyance that Skritch had stepped on was a ball of shed nukap hair. "We're getting close," she breathed, her blood pumping with newfound adrenaline. "Joy." Skritch frowned so deeply that his jaw wrinkled like an elderly tsabhua's. "Stinky… Pigs," he sighed.

"I know this won't be pleasant for you," Shenzi admitted, "But if you think about it–the prince is bound to reward us handsomely. He is royal, after all." Money was the key to Skritch's heart—and immediately changed the Captain's tune. "You mean there will be a reward?" He squeaked, "Well, why didn't you say so! I'll grab these pigs and carry them back myself!" He flexed his extra set of arms, forgetting that his hunter had been born without them. But she didn't need arms to kill–she just needed her bulky body, sharp teeth, and claws. "Let's bring home the bacon," she grinned, breaking the hair clump between her paw.

Silence fell upon the two–true silence. The chirping stopped and the winds whistling between the mushrooms quieted. Then, it could be heard–faint oinking. Skritch pricked his ears, focusing on his senses. He could smell uprooted earth, and the sharp tannins of a bit-into plant. He turned to Shenzi, the two hunters exchanging sharp glances with each other–It's here, they both knew. The Captain wiggled his fingers with anticipation, while his hunter lowered her haunches and glanced around the ferns in the overgrowth. The nukap was here–now, just where was it?