Dusk

The Wandering Witch of the West was quite the title that Dusk had acquired on her many travels. It was true that she was a witch, it was true that she originated from the mysterious western lands, however, she did not care for such titles that struck fear in all who gazed upon her. In reality, she was a gentle soul, and rarely used her knowledge of magic to hex her enemies, except when they really deserved it. Despite this truth, most lions avoided her, often terrified not only of her, but of the clan of hyenas that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

The scent of death clung to witches, and she was no exception. Death and fire were the specialty of witches, and this was true for her as well. Her spells could reveal many things, and the way that one would die was one of them. Those who had the courage to approach her often asked to know of how they perished, and she would always warn them.

"Knowledge of your fate comes at a grave price, one you must be willing to pay," she would say as a bright, magic flame began to burn at the tip of her tail, "are you willing to be burned by the Flames of Fate to obtain such knowledge?"

No sensible lion stuck around to pay the price, most turned tail and ran screeching back to their prides, the hyenas snickering as they went. Dusk would cackle with them, knowing she had turned a lion away from a terrible fate because there was truth in her warning and her soulless eye was a cruel reminder of what happened to those who came too close to the flame.