One sizzling summer afternoon, when the sun felt like a warm hug that had gone on a bit too long, Leo the Lion was feeling terribly thirsty. His tongue felt like a dry old sock. At the very same moment, not too far away, Barnaby the Boar, with his bristly hair and tough snout, was also dreaming of a cool drink. His throat was as parched as a desert path.

As luck would have it, both Leo and Barnaby spotted the same tiny little puddle of water, the only water for miles around. It wasn't very big, barely enough for one thirsty animal at a time.

Leo, being a lion, puffed out his chest. "Well, well," he rumbled, "I believe I'll have the first drink. Kings go first, you know."

Barnaby snorted, kicking up a little dust with his hoof. "Oh, do they now? I'm just as thirsty as any king, and my throat got here just as fast as yours!"

"Are you arguing with me?" Leo growled, swishing his tail back and forth like a grumpy pendulum.

"Maybe I am!" Barnaby oinked, lowering his head a little, showing off his pointy tusks.

And so, they began to argue. Leo roared. Barnaby grunted. They circled the little puddle, each one trying to look tougher than the other. Soon, words weren't enough. With a mighty ROAR and a furious OINK, they charged!

Fur flew! Dust swirled! Tusks clashed with claws! They tumbled and wrestled, grunted and groaned. It was quite a ruckus.

After a while, both Leo and Barnaby were out of breath. They were tired, sweaty, and still very, very thirsty. They stepped back from each other, panting and puffing, glaring.

As they caught their breath, Leo happened to look up. He saw some large birds with wide wings circling high above them in the sky. Barnaby looked up too.

"Hmm," Leo mumbled, still a bit cross. "What are those vultures doing up there?"

Barnaby squinted. "They look like they're waiting for something."

Suddenly, a thought popped into Leo's head. "Wait a minute," he said, his eyes wide. "They're waiting for one of us to... to get really hurt in this fight."

Barnaby’s ears twitched. "You mean... if we keep fighting, and one of us can't get up..."

"...they get an easy dinner!" finished Leo. "And if we *both* get badly hurt, they get *two* dinners!"

Leo and Barnaby looked at the vultures, then at each other, then back at the tiny puddle of water. Fighting suddenly seemed like a very silly idea.

"You know," Leo said, his voice much quieter now, "this is a bit daft, isn't it?"

Barnaby nodded. "Completely daft. All this fuss, and those sneaky birds get the last laugh."

Leo looked at the puddle. "How about... you take a sip, then I take a sip? There's probably enough if we share."

Barnaby grunted, which for him meant, "That sounds like a good plan."

So, Barnaby carefully took a few sips of the cool water. Then he stepped back, and Leo took his turn. The water tasted extra good because they weren't fighting over it anymore.

They weren't exactly best friends after that, but they both agreed it was much smarter to share and be sensible than to fight and let someone else get all the good stuff. And Vicky the Vulture and her friends had to go look for their dinner somewhere else that day.

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