Bet you think you're Queen Bee

Róta rolled her eyes at the boys excited scream. When her donkey had come home with another in tow she had chewed him out and told him she wasn't keeping another. That said, the boy was quite obsessed, and maybe if he had his own he'd stop tailing her everywhere, so together they had made introductions and the two got on famously.

When the boy tore down the knolls, well, she'd bought it on herself hadn't she? Grudgingly she wandered down the path slower than the endless ball of energy that looked just like her long dead son was her nephew. It was the clattering of hooves, the scream of Lion! that lit a fire under her ass.

Kicking up a gear, “Skit,” Her eyes fell on not one child but fucking two, and not even one of theirs at that, about to go toe to toe with a fucking big cat. If two screaming donkeys and two blurs of russet weren't enough to get her attention, hopefully Róta's teeth in her ass would drive the message home.