🌑 September 🌑's Den

Lightning crackles overhead as you approach a hill, your only perception of its silhouette being the ghost of silver-blue light dancing across the rain-slick edges of boulders. You try your best to find shelter among the rocks, but your paws are slipping, your claws strained and weary, and your body is weighed down by the torrential rain. You have come too far to turn back now, but you begin to wonder if the stones beneath your feet will grow tired of you and cast you back down, mangling your hide with jagged slate as you tumble. You continue on. Your soul is too daring, too brave, to let anything besides heroic, altruistic acts lead you to that fate.

Suddenly, in a particularly bright flash of lighting, a mysterious lion manifests from seemingly out of nowhere. He isn't the largest, strongest, or most sinister-looking lion you've seen, but his eyes, despite their pale coldness, are completely emotionless. Yet they seem to stare right through you, burning into your subconscious as if his own mind is penetrating into yours, picking apart every thought, every flaw, every motivation. The blinding flicker of the lightning shows a pelt colored like the clashing of two universes, the swirling of two very different skies. You see the cold black, churning storm that currently rages above you, brindling into the bright, eerie stillness of a morning of sharp frost and choking fog. The marbled, chaotic scene painting this lion's body has faint, white speckles like stars, yet you are reminded of the sharp sting of hail, the bullet-like chill of rain, and the disorienting swirl of snow. The calm silence of stars may cloak this lion's being, but your subconscious urges you against testing it, as if he had planted that thought there himself.

After a moment of keeping your eyes fixed on the silhouette stained against the faint flickering of the sky behind him, you see his head tilt ever so slightly. It is a small, slow gesture, but it appears to indicate that this lion has effectively judged your character. Another bright flash of light ignites the incandescent glow of the rocks, and the eye shine of a dozen lionesses flares among the hillside. Their eyes, though stern and glowing with lion-like emotions in contrast, seem to mirror the curiosity, confidence, and grave judgement of their King.

The King steps aside, and stares at you from a few paces away, as you begin to search for a dry spot to sleep. The suspicion of every lion in this scree echo off the mountains louder than thunder, yet louder is the dreadful shaking of your soul that branches from their strength. They do not need to mistrust you, for they know that if you were to cross them, they would be the reaper of a death by a hundred claws, elongated by tall shadows.

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