A song of Fire and Blood's Den

About Me

Well, now you've certainly done it this time, haven't you? Wandered a little too far on one of your endeavors and found yourself lost in the twisting and gnarled canyons and creaks of the Savannah river basin. The sun is setting and as the insects sing their harmonious ballad, you wonder if it's worth the risk of trying to find your way back to your pride again tonight. As if to confirm the futility of your hopeless endeavor, you feel a fat drop of rain land on your muzzle and roll off the curve of your whisker.

Looking up, you catch the swell of an angry thunderhead, cloud and sigh under breath. As you find yourself pondering over what deity you could have upset to find yourself in this current predicament. As the downpour begins, you run the nearest allotment in the stone, a small pocket hidden behind some lush vines and hanging shrubbery. You shake the moisture from your Fur and breathe a small sigh of relief, only to hear a distant crackling and an odd throaty humming coming from farther inside the retreat. Ever the curious being, you step further inside the expanse of the cave and the sound grows louder. A dimly lit figure is shuffling and organizing herbs and items about some rocky shelves in the far back of the cave. It is only as they turn in your direction that you notice the cloth that drapes over their eyes and the ivory antlers that arch and wind in the space above his head. " Well now.. It seems the spirits have blessed me with another lost soul... welcome my child. There are so many of you these days." He pulls over a large leaf to lay before you and returns to the fire to tend it. "Storms don't last forever, my sweet Savannah child. And sometimes we need rain, even if we may chide it for being inopportune. Take a load off your paws while I prepare us a meal for the night, perhaps you can tell an old ghost the stories that have given your bones the shape of the lion you are today."

Against your better judgment, you found yourself curling up on the makeshift bed the striped lion before you's voice, soft and rollin like the boil of a thick stew. " I can hear your questions, sun-kissed wander; and all will be answered in time. Your ancestors put you here because this is where you need to be, an' you need only reflect a moment on the path ahead of you before making your decision. Your destiny will arrive no quicker to you if you aimlessly wander and expect it to fall into your lap. The stars and the spirits they talk all the time, an' most folk aint got the sense to listen real good, but you mind me when I say that they've taken real shine to you. It may not seem like it now, but never has a flower bloomed the day the seed is sown. You are gonna face all matter of tests. Storms, drought, being trampled and chewed upon till you are all but twig and dirt.. but should you persevere, you will sprawl to the heavens like the great trees and provide shade and protection for all the cubs that are and all the cubs that will be. Time is a vex that neither speeds up or slows down for any lion. For now, just be as you are."

As your eyes drift clothes from the warmth and the tender lilt of the striped lion's voice. You murmur your question before you can help it. "Who are you?"

" I was a lion much like you, many sunrises and moonsets ago. Some call me 'The witch doctor', 'The crazy old inbred', 'The voice of those now gone'. Others call me 'The journey', 'The reunion' , or 'The one who sees without eyes'. You may call me what you see fit; for it matters not in the span of a life what you are as much as it matters as who you will choose to be."