Winter Tooth's Den

As you cross over the small stream and into the lion's territory, the smell of fresh blood and warm milk wafts past your nose. Nearby is a large kill pile, a few young cubs tussling at the paws of a aging king. In the distance, several teenage lions talk among themselves....You're pretty sure those lions aren't originally from here by how fancy their markings are.

The king himself is coated in a shimmer of shimmering chitin dust, sparkling in a rainbow of colors over his snow and ice colored pelt. Here and there are glints of gold and other tones beneath the white. All around him are snowy white cubs of all sorts not just lions and there is a whisper of a spirit playing around his paws. He sets down the perfectly white cub in his mouth to speak with you.

"Welcome," He purrs gently to you. "I am Winter Tooth. Golden Fang has recently passed and Sunset Star shall soon follow, the pride is clean and we hold fast together. Come and join us in the shade of our trees, tell us stories of your lands and listen well to our own cautionary tales as to what happens when a king does not uphold his promises to his pride."