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To Noah
Majid was good at his job. Near the end of Haben's father's reign, he had acted as an enforcer. For a long time, he'd managed to keep the peace within the immediate Pride, but in the end, it had been too much for the few lions who remained loyal to the idea of a Pride structure. When the lions of Africa had dispersed to their own devices, forming groups closer to small tribes rather than one grand pride, Majid had fallen to taking mercenary work for humans and lions alike. When Haben had disappeared and was presumed dead, Haben's father went downhill, losing his spark for leadership. It was painful to watch the King fall so far and Majid stopped seeing him, abandoned him really.

Now he was in Coldwater Flats, having tracked Haben's best friend Noah to that location. It was a commission, a job and nothing personal. Majid had been around while Haben and Noah were growing up, young himself then, but old enough to do the job that Haben's father required of him. Strangely enough, he'd been tribute to the King--a gift from another Pride. Majid didn't mind much, having been objectified like that. He'd wanted to get out of Iran and that had been his opportunity.

He'd been staying in a cheap motel in town, biding his time and observing Noah. The boy had been visiting a local wolf pack frequently, though Majid did not know for what purpose. What would a lion have to do with a pack of wolves? He didn't dare step on their territory and so he waited until Noah was in town to finally approach him. He had an ice cream cone in his hand, of all things, and he simply stepped out in front of Noah as he was walking. "You've gotten bigger," he noted mildly.