ৎ = check
ৎ1/12ৎ
ৎTotal=ৎ
Pose= Neutral
Background= Death Shade
Lion Skull Decor (350) ৎ
Mummification (8gb) ৎ
Cinereous Vulture
Dried Scrub
Maneater Mane [Brown]
Bloody Claws
Rabies
Expression: Cheerful [Brown] (1gb)ৎ
Rope Halter [Black]
Embedded Chain
As you walk up to her, S w @ y ! n g R 0 p 3 s stares at you intently. She awaits a greeting, and does not return one until you have given exactly 6 nuzzles and a lick to ply her with..
Mentions of gore, mass homocide. and hanging
The village square was bustling with activity as the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the thatched roofs and dusty cobblestones. A group of cubs played tag around a statue of a long-forgotten saint, their laughter filling the air like the sweetest of melodies. Elder lionesses huddled together, gossiping about the latest news and scandals, their worn out jaws knitting intricate lace doilies for the church altar. But there was one figure that stood out amongst the crowd, drawing the eyes of everyone within view.
A young lioness, no more than three summers old, was tied to a wooden post at the center of the square. Her once-vibrant fur hung limply across her pelt, tangled and matted with dirt and leaves. Her once-beautiful shawl was now torn and dirty, hanging off her frame like a second skin. Her body trembled with each ragged breath, her eyes wild and vacant, fixed on some unseen horror only she could see.
The crowd had gathered not to offer comfort or solace, but to witness her final hours. They murmured amongst themselves, some whispering words of fear and pity, while others laughed and pointed, calling her a witch or a demon-possessed creature. The local priest stood before her, his face etched with sadness and anger, reciting prayers and casting aspersions upon her soul, hoping to save her from the eternal fires of hell.
But it was too late. She had been found guilty of lying, of trying to deceive her people with tales of impending doom and destruction. They had accused her of consorting with the devil himself, of using her visions as a means to control and manipulate them. And so, here she was, about to meet her fate, her body already weakened from the torment and abuse she had suffered at the hands of her accusers.
As the executioner placed the noose around her neck, her eyes flickered open, darting desperately around the crowd, searching for someone, anyone who might believe her, might understand the truth of what she had seen. But all she found was hatred and disbelief, and so she closed her eyes once more, steeling herself for the inevitable.
With a rough jerk, the executioner pulled the rope tight around her throat, and for a moment, everything went black. Then, as her body jerked and thrashed in a final agony, a gasp of air escaped her lips, and the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. They had done it; they had silenced the witch, the liar, the blasphemer. They threw rotten fruit and stones at her limp body, laughing as her blood and gore splattered across the cobblestones.
But as the sun rose the next morning, the village awoke to a scene of utter devastation. The very things she had tried to warn them about had come true; a mighty army, led by the demonic creatures she had described in her visions, had swept through the village, burning it to the ground and leaving nothing but ash and charred ruins in their wake. The cubs who had played tag around the saint's statue were now orphans, their parents slaughtered in their sleep. The old lionesses who had gossiped and knitted doilies were now refugees, forced to flee for their lives.
The crowd, once so certain of their righteousness, now lay scattered about the square, their bodies broken and bloody. The statue of the saint, which they had so reverently touched and praised, now lay toppled over, its marble face cracked and stained with the blood of the fallen. The church, the symbol of their faith and their community, had been reduced to rubble, its altar desecrated and its holy relics scattered like trash across the ground.
The demonic army, having completed its task of destruction, had disappeared into the night, leaving behind only the survivors to pick through the ashes and try to find some semblance of meaning in the carnage. They wandered about in dazed confusion, their eyes filled with horror and disbelief. Many of them looked over at the rotting corpse of the lioness who had been executed only hours before, now left to rot amidst the ruins of their village.
