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Silene's shizzle

displaying a shadowy figure across the savannah floor, the corpse of an old withered tree stood defiantly against the morning sun. In the near distance your dry eyes observe what seems to be a flourishing pride; and with gentle ease, a slender figure slips behind you, curling whiskers to your ears. "Hello." A soft whisper echoed from the being- a tall lioness, with broken glass for eyes, stood proud, slender legs in a straight posture. Her skin was stained in white splodges, a dove grey painting her skin. Underneath the tree, she sat and glanced up, the variety of items hanging from cleverly intertwined vines, how nifty... "Take what you must." Smiled the queen, "-For right price, of course."