QotD: Lionesses have no manes. How do they know when they've grown up?

Lolly played with the bug for a while, then twitched her tail at a curious bird. A few moments later she padded to her mother and flopped beside her. “There’s nothing to do.”

“Thank goodness,” said the older lioness. “Easy hunting and nothing to run from.” She yawned, her long pink tongue curling.

“But I’m bored.”

“Go hunt something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Lolly, please. It’s hot and I’m tired.”

“How come you let my brothers wander off, but I have to stay close?”

“Young male lions need to wander off. That’s what they do. Otherwise, they’d have terrible fights with their father.”

“What father? I’ve never even seen him.”

Her mother growled and looked away. “Your father is dead, Lolly. Men came where we used to live and killed every lion sporting a mane. Killed lions without manes, too.”

“A mane? What’s that?”

“When a lion is grown and ready to be a father, he grows long hair on his neck.”

“How can I tell when I’m grown and ready to be a mother?”

Her mother stroked her tongue slowly across a paw, splaying her toes.

“Mom?”

Her mother dropped her chin flat on the ground. “I don’t see how you will, darling. The lions are all dead. I haven’t seen one since before you were born.”

Lolly puzzled it out over the next several days. Her mother had run away from where the men were. They were the ones who ran on two legs. There were no lions where they were now. If she ever wanted to be a mother, to be grown up, she needed to find a lion with a mane. One day she set off to find one.

She traveled a long time, going first one way and then another. She saw gazelles, wildebeests, meercats, eagles, hyenas, a pack of dogs, and the usual flies—plenty of them, in fact. Her paws got sore but still she went on and on.

One morning she came across a funny sort of tree growing sideways along the ground--two branches, one above the other. She stopped to sniff at it, sneezed, and sat down. A herd of some kind of animal was grazing some ways beyond the strange tree. She’d never seen anything quite like them.

After a time, one left the group and ran toward her. He stopped short, shaking his head. Lolly’s eyes widened as the hair on his neck moved. “Is that a mane?” she asked.

“Huh! Of course it is. My name is Hun-rhuh, and I’m king of all I survey. Who are you?”

“I’m Lolly. Can I stay here?”

“Maybe. Watch me run, okay?” He took off without waiting for an answer. She had to admit: he was pretty fast. He returned, not breathing as hard as she would have if she’d run even half that far. “Want to see me jump?” he asked, and before she could answer, he sprang effortlessly over the strange tree.

“You’re wonderful, Hun-rhuh. I’m completely in love with you.”

“Huh! You’re awfully short, but I think I love you too. Wanna mess around?”

“Uh…I don’t know…”

“First time, huh? That’s okay. Just climb up on that rock over there and I’ll be right with you.”

Lolly and Hun-hruh spent lots of time together, and their love grew despite certain dietary differences. The messing around bit seemed strange at first but was fun and amazingly addictive.

One evening, after a horrid day of stomach cramps, Lolly had two charming, but rather strange looking cubs. “I can’t believe how tall they are,” she said.

“Huh. They look kinda short to me. How come their teeth are all pointy like that?”
The cubs were a couple of months old when Lolly got the fright of her life. Men suddenly showed up at the mouth of the den. But then, instead of shooting her, they started laughing.

“Man, we’ve got to take good care of you, pretty lioness,” said one.

“These cubs are just priceless,” said the other.

“Whaddya think?” said the first. Horions?”

“Maybe Liorses,” said the other.

Lolly didn’t care. It turned out her little family was safe. If only Mom could see her now, all grown up and in love with her darling Hun-rhuh, who had the most beautiful, flowing, glistening mane anyone could imagine.