Kenai's Bauble Booth
It's an unusually breezy day in the marshlands, with the weak sunlight filtering through silver clouds to try and warm your pelt. You shiver as your paws sink into damp peat, the cool water adding to your chill. Are there even lions out this far? This question is not left unanswered for long, as no sooner do you think it than you step into a mud puddle and nearly fall flat on your muzzle. You manage to catch yourself, barely, and a laugh echoes from behind you. Whipping around, you catch sight of a lion, smiling with their overly long fangs from where they're lounging amongs mossy tree roots. They stretch, rising to their paws and showing off a deep red coat, patterned with black marks that make them nearly invisible in the shade. "You have to watch your step around here." They comment, giving a friendly flick of their ear. "But I guess you don't come out to the wetlands much. I'm King Kenai, though any pronouns work for me. While you're here, would you like to take a look at my shop and see if there's something to make the trip worthwhile?"
