Hermaeus's Den

:D

On your travels, the reeking stench of rotting flesh suddenly invades your nostrils causing you to stutter in your steps.

As you press onward to investigate the source of the smell, the air around you seems to still, the normal chatter of wildlife that you grew so accustomed to completely stopped.

The further you walk, more the world seemed to become duller as things seemed to lose color- you look down to check your paws for such changes, letting out a sigh of relief as you seem unaffected.

The smell becomes stronger as you push your way through some discolored bramble, shaking out your fur to attempt to rid yourself of the annoying spikes.

You pause when you see an oversized ferus with his back turned to you, taking half a step further his neck suddenly completely snaps around in a complete 180 degree turn to stare at you with blank, haunted eyes- you could audibly hear the bones in his neck snap in the process.

His jaw hung open uselessly as his body stood to turn to face you, all while maintaining eye contact with you.

Your fur pricks up as the king takes a step forward, pausing for a few moments before taking another. You try to will yourself to move, to run from this clearly rotting lion but your paws remain rooted to the spot.

Your gaze flicks over his appearance, his bones lay exposed to the world on several places on his body, nearly his entire ribcage exposed to you with an unbeating heart sitting uselessly inside.

Every step he stood looked weak, he limps forward with jagged steps, every movement accompanied with the cracking of bones.

Soon he stood in front of you, he panted and wheezed, the short walk seeming to take a lot out of him.

As he attempts to stand proudly like a king should, he suddenly begins coughing violently, turning his head away from you as black vile spatters out onto the dull brown grass. With a shake of his head, he turns back to you, trying his best to smile with massive tusks sticking awkwardly out of his mouth.

Then his voice comes forth, it was scratchy, wheezy as if he hadn't spoken in many, many years,

"Welcome, I am Hermaeus- king of these lands. Please, make yourself at home."

Odd, you decide to ask about the odd nature of his territory.

He gives you a saddened look and apologizes, but he doesn't explain why everything lacks vibrancy.

With an annoyed huff, you ask for a tour of the place he calls home.

A look of fear flashes across his face and he quickly insists that you stay here with him instead.