The moonlight cast silver shadows across the ground, making it easy to see movement. Mwiza stood outside the goat pens--the pens required watching even at night these days--when she spied a flicker of motion near the edge of the pen. She narrowed her eyes, peering into the gloom. A low, guttural sound confirmed her suspicions—spotted hyenas. They were bold predators, not easily scared off, and they had a knack for attacking under the cover of darkness.

Without hesitation, Mwiza grabbed her staff and moved toward the pen, her mind racing. The Hukinshi had developed specific calls for different types of predator attacks, a sophisticated system that allowed them to communicate swiftly and effectively during such emergencies.

She took a deep breath and made the sharp, distinctive call that signaled a hyena attack. Her voice cut through the night, loud and urgent, designed to alert the entire village.

Mwiza stood her ground, her staff held firmly in her hands as she faced the hyenas.She knew her family and neighbors would be coming, but until then, she had to hold the line: The goats were the family's livelihood, and their protection was paramount.

The yellow eyes of the hyenas reflected the moonlight as they approached. Mwiza took a step forward, swinging her staff to make herself appear larger and more threatening. She shouted at the hyenas, her voice steady and strong, driving them back.

Within moments, the sounds of footsteps and answering calls from other villagers reached her ears. Reinforcements were on the way. Mwiza didn’t let up, continuing to make noise and wave her staff, determined to protect the goats until help arrived.