Arizuma's Den

There is always water somewhere in the savannah, if only one knows where to look. Alas, the grasslands are wide, the deserts unforgiving, and the jungles large and mysterious. A traveler can easily succumb to misfortune or become lost, never to be heard from again.

Fortunately for you, you are not one of those travelers.

You come to an oasis, a lush patch of land surrounded by grassland on all sides. The territory is small, the pride that claims it even smaller. They're wary. The cubs stop playing to stare, and the lionesses close ranks to protect them if you turn out to be a threat.

An aging male lion approaches. He's scarred and graying around the muzzle, and his black eyes regard you with an unreadable expression. Two subordinate males flank him. The older of them curls his lip at you and leans over to whisper in the reigning King's ear.

Just when you're sure they're going to chase you away, he smiles. There's an edge of tiredness to his face.

"Welcome, stranger. You look like you need a drink."

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