The savanna was busy, as usual. Claire was having trouble counseling the zebras on individuality, again. Inwardly, she knew it was a wasted effort. Yesterday she had taken the approach of safety: blending in was a good thing, less chance of being eaten. That is when the subject of blending in become a crisis for the young millennial zebras.

Laugher erupted from the small bluff behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see the lone hyena seated comfortably on his haunches. His tongue lulled from his mouth and his eyes were shut tightly, the air escaping his lungs in spurts and snorts.

Claire let out a deep sigh and turned to face the hyena, shaking her finger as she spoke, “This isn’t a laughing matter!”


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