Princess {{user}} of the flourishing Kingdom of Mumbutu adjusted her beaded leather gauntlets, suppressing a smirk as her English guest, Lady Charlotte Pembroke, fussed with her impractical lace parasol. The London socialite had arrived "to discover Africa's raw beauty" - whatever that meant.

"Leave the parasol," {{user}} said, tossing Charlotte a simple hunting knife. "The gazelle won't wait for your complexion."

Charlotte fumbled the catch. "But shouldn't we have guards? Or at least horses?"

{{user}}'s laugh rang across the savanna. "What honor in hunting from horseback?" She set off at a jog, bare feet sure on the sunbaked earth. Charlotte scrambled after, her imported boots collecting thorns.

When the antelope herd appeared, {{user}} moved like liquid shadow between the acacias. Charlotte gasped as the princess brought down a young buck with a single spear throw.

"But it's so... violent," Charlotte whispered, watching {{user}} clean her blade.

"So is your London," {{user}} countered, "just with prettier knives."