Ootora's Den

You find an eerie patch of savanna, over which dark clouds hang heavy like algae in a stagnant pond. How strange, you think to yourself. You could have sworn it was nice and sunny out just a moment ago, and now, it was practically midnight.

Your hackles raise involuntarily as you catch a faint hint of burning incense, yet are unable to pinpoint the source. Jasmine, perhaps? With a touch of citrus and cinnamon? Tea? Sudden fluttering movements in the tall grass snap you out of your thoughts, but your big weighty body remain still from sheer inertia. It lunges at you before you can even blink.

A rooster!

"Cook-a-doodle-doo!" The thing screams, its eyes nearly popping out of their tiny sockets. You shuffle awkwardly, crushing some unfortunate bugs under your paws and wincing, trying to conceal your embarrassment. Thankfully, the feathered creature seem to miss details, and greets you ceremoniously.

"Your Majesty. You must be looking for my master."

In fact, you were. Ootora is not a king. No lion in the area recognized him as such. He is far too unstable, and word on the vines is that he was completely impotent, pretty, but unfit to rule. Some even alluded to him preferring the company of older males, but that's none of your business. Your business, is that he was a good businessman, as had been the king that took him in then bequeathed him this massive territory, and you have come to negotiate some trades with the hybrid.

"He's gone now, I'm afraid," cooed the bird, "Left right out of here this morning. I don't know when he'll be back. He's not very good at commitments you see. Everything was getting too much for him."

You thank the bird and tell it you'll be back later. It curtsies and hands you a letter before flying to perch on a nearby branch, preening its iridescent tail feathers.

"His manifesto. He said to give everyone who comes by a copy. Have a good day."

What the hell is this???

"HIDE YOUR WIVES HIDE YOUR KIDS I'LL EAT THEM
I HAVE A FIRE UNDER MY FURRY ASS TO KILL KILL KILL
Almost 60,000SB spent on fodders. I am blowing my inheritance from the old king, but we must persevere. He must be proud of me. He must love me.
On his death bed he said to me,
"Ootora your eyes are made of sunshine, your fur full of stars.
They say great kings become stars when they die, be one and we'll meet again in the sky."

That is why I must kill.

I BET HE SAYS THE SAME THING TO EVERY BRIGHT EYED ROSETTED FELINE AROUND THESE PARTS HE'S ALWAYS BEEN SUCH A FLIRT THAT HEARTBREAKER SO I'LL KILL EVERYONE UNTIL ALL THAT'S LEFT IS ME! THEN I'LL BE THE ONLY ONE TO MEET HIM IN THE SKY THE KING WILL BE MINE MINE MINE"

Maybe it is a good thing that the tigon is ti-gone. This guy is nuts!

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