#514479871199
Belongs to 's Pride
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Genesis

"[higher shaman]

This lion is immortal! It will not age or get hungry.

Appearance		Markings
Base	Sandy (Dark Brown Skin)	Slot 1: Dark Brown Cover (42%) Tier 1 Slot 2: Cream Mist (100%) Tier 1 Slot 3: Dark Brown Smudge (100%) Tier 1 Slot 4: Cocoa Undercover (5%) Tier 3 Slot 8: White Facial 1 (100%) Tier 1 Slot 9: Vitiligo 4 (100%) Tier 2 Slot 10: Under White 4 (100%) Tier 0
Genetics	Red Light Solid Common
Eyes	Hazel
Mane Type	Regal
Mane Color	Hallowed
Mutation	Polycaudal
Marking Slots	10

Equipped Decorations Hide/Show
Herb Grove Above Lich Essence Shell Beads Claw and Teeth Necklace Messy Mane 1 Elephant Tusks Headwrap Hare Bone Piercings

Biography
Genesis - a Greek name meaning "the beginning." Genesis's posture stiffens, their methodical movements pausing upon hearing your faint pawsteps approaching. They abandon their previous task of wrapping various bundles of dried herbs in vines, fixing you with an icy, blank stare. You hesitate in your tracks as your gazes meet, and you watch as they seem to look down to one of your paws. Somehow, they can tell you are limping, though you could hazard a guess that they cannot see anything. After a moment passes, they offer a slight bow of their head, vacant eyes fluttering briefly before they beckon you closer with the sweep of a forked tail. This lion's presence is strangely captivating, their appearance even more so; blue light wafts from their face in gentle waves, shrouding their eyes and clinging to their whiskers like frost. The strands of shells that wrap around their body shuffle softly in the breeze emanating from the cave opening, and the mismatched, yellowed canine teeth comprising their necklace clink together delicately. You get the impression that they are much older than they seem; something about that is comforting...

Biography

Genesis - a Greek name meaning "the beginning."

Genesis's posture stiffens, their methodical movements pausing upon hearing your faint pawsteps approaching. They abandon their previous task of wrapping various bundles of dried herbs in vines, fixing you with an icy, blank stare. You hesitate in your tracks as your gazes meet, and you watch as they seem to look down to one of your paws. Somehow, they can tell you are limping, though you could hazard a guess that they cannot see anything.

After a moment passes, they offer a slight bow of their head, vacant eyes fluttering briefly before they beckon you closer with the sweep of a forked tail. This lion's presence is strangely captivating, their appearance even more so; blue light wafts from their face in gentle waves, shrouding their eyes and clinging to their whiskers like frost. The strands of shells that wrap around their body shuffle softly in the breeze emanating from the cave opening, and the mismatched, yellowed canine teeth comprising their necklace clink together delicately. You get the impression that they are much older than they seem; something about that is comforting...

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