Incah’s tail flicked from side to side as if to sweep the debris from the wooden planks. His head rested against his paws, but sleep was not at the top of his agenda. His eyes were wide open but only stared soullessly at the floor. Give me strength, he thought, for You know I need it. Please let tomorrow dawn bright and sunny… He stretched slowly, claws threatening to puncture the structure which lay around him. Sighing heavily as if to mimic the rain’s downpour, his mind wandered to those far distant memories he cherished so strongly: a tail swishing amongst the brush just before it pounces; his whole pack ambushing an elephant for supper…
And now he was sleeping in the same room as the damned things.
Incah’s eyebrows arched furiously as he glanced over at an elephant’s knobbly knees. He would quite happily sink his teeth into its leathery flesh, though Noah probably wouldn’t be wholly behind this action. Neither would you, Lord, am I correct? Incah’s black whiskers twitched at such a discrepancy. He raised his head as he surveyed the room. Dinner. Dinner. Dinner. Death. Dinner. Most of the animals would be easy to take out between himself and Francis: God knows they’d had enough time to sharpen their claws at this point. But then his eyes happened upon Noah, the animal who stood even taller than him, and he lowered his lids in respect. Too late. There was no mistaking Noah’s ambling footfall. Incah raised his yellow eyes to meet Noah’s blue irises, tail steadying to a gentle pat.
“Incah,” he hailed, face glowing with good cheer as ever, “how’s my favourite male lion? I hope you aren’t too seasick?”
“This isn’t the sea, fool,” Incah murmured agitatedly, “these are God’s tears we’re floating upon. Why would I–?”
“All the more reason to feel sick, my dear friend. Let us pray that He forgives us soon, else we’ll be knocking on Heaven’s door before our time is due!”
Incah sighed again, rolled over so that his paws flailed hopelessly, and duelled with the air. Everything was a joke to Noah, but perhaps after another forty days and forty nights of this torturous rain, he would be less jolly.
“Incah!” A stern voice called, piercing his body like an incisor. He jumped up and landed upon his four paws deftly just as Francis’ golden face approached his.
“Enough of this lazy attitude!” She shrilled, back arched with rage. “There’s plenty to be done, so get to it!”
Incah’s tail vanished beneath his hind legs. Of all the lions God could have chosen, He picked this one… True, he might have been able to kill most of the animals surrounding him, but with only Francis in his pack, he would probably die before tasting that rich, juicy meat. So instead, he merely lowered his head in subservience and traipsed to the deck; eager to sniff the air regardless of the rain.
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