Buku, however, has not yet learned the behaviors of a mature male of his kind. Today a small number of females gathered, two members of the south herd and two from Design. I have grown particularly fond of the female I call "Sasha." It was Sasha who brought danishes and tacos to the break room yesterday, and the dilligance and care with which she provides for so much of the herd is admirable in a less dominant creature. Despite her lower status in the herd, so clearly marked by her display of simple, bright floral prints, she has gained much status and recognition as a food-provider.
Sasha and another female brought a large cache of foodstuffs to the table--several bags of chips, guacamole, and finely ground meat. The smell of this imprompteau feast was surely calling to the rest of the herd, but they had learned hard lessons in the past, and would wait until the females had finished their savage discussion--wait for the laughter to die down. Buku entered the break room, walking first to the coffee pot, but then, drawn by the smell of meat and salsa, he moved hesitantly toward the table.
The females stopped their low, rumbling conversation immediately, and Buku, perhaps asking if this food was the claim of the females, reached for a small bowl of queso.
In a strange gesture of dominance and generosity, Sasha carefully prepared for him two rolls of meat and flat bread, a small salad, beans, rice, and three large cookies. The cockiness Buku displayed when challenging Brighteye was gone now, and he seemed smaller, as if hiding within himself from this aggressive display of mexican food. He chirped some sort of thanks, but he was pale and demonstrated many of the placating gestures he uses to appease upper management.
Buku's coffee mug is still here. He has yet to return to claim it, and has not investigated the leftovers of the feast. I know he will come back, but for now, this powerful clan of females has driven him from the break room.