The clan waited. Some were still covered in antelope blood from the last hunt, but most were not. They would have to rely on staying downwind to remain hidden. Unfortunately, Alger was surrounded by idiots. The hyenas all waited in a line, flanks clearly unprotected. If they weren't in lion territory, Alger would have scolded each and every one of them. Though, perhaps scolded wasn't the right word. More like physically scarred them for being so blind. Alger sighed.
"Cover our flanks," Alger whispered in such a way that all his warriors could hear, and feel the anger in his voice. "We don't move until the lions do." Warthogs, my clan is made of sniffling warthogs. Alger took the head of the now well-guarded formation, waiting for the tell-tale signs of a started hunt.