He adored the plains. They boasted a beauty, and a savagery, all their own, alive with raucous trumpeting and haunting laughter.

The roar was his favourite, bar none. Unmistakable and unique, its sound carried for miles. Its meaning was abundantly clear to all who heard it: hail to the king.

Tony Awori is studying in Kuala Lumpur, and plays with a band in his spare time (when he isn’t writing).