Brittle Bones Nicky's Den

ranch

You've been walking for what feels like forever in the heat of the summer, so long that you've already forgotten why you began walking in the first place. But whatever your reasoning, it's far too late to turn back now - not until you have found what you are looking for, whatever that may be. So you continue on, paws slick with sweat and tongue lolling out with each heavy pant. It's late morning now, still nowhere near the peak temperature of the day, and you dread how hot you will be once the afternoon rolls around.

There is a small pond up ahead - a large puddle, really - and the sight is calling to you like prey to the starving. You have yet to discover what you came here for, but if you continue without rest in this climate, you will drop dead in just a few more hours as the temperature continues to rise. So you decide to stop for a short break.

The instant your tongue hits the warm water, your mouth is overwhelmed with a bitter taste unlike any other. It's immediately nauseating, sending you gagging and coughing as you start to back away from the foul water. But two steps back, and you feel your legs buckle beneath you, your body crashing into the sand. You attempt to stand - once, twice, thrice - but each time, your legs are far too shaky to bear your weight, your body growing number with each attempt to rise.

You don't have a chance to process what's happening before your world grows dark, that bitter taste never leaving your mouth.

When you wake up, the sky is dark and the humidity is suffocating. It's just as hot as before despite the lack of sunlight, enveloping you and threatening to send you into heat exhaustion before you even get a chance to stand up.

With great effort, you manage to shakily rise to your paws. But, when you glance around, you realize you are not where you passed out. The puddle is gone - not a body of water in sight - and there are palm trees you've never seen before surrounding you. The ground beneath your paws is soft and sandy, and your paws sink noticeably into the damp earth with your weight. Unfamiliar creatures cry out into the night, and as you peer up at the sky between the palm fronds you realize the sky is steadily lightening with the first signs of dawn. How long were you asleep...?

The scent of lion is unmistakable. As is the scent of human. Continue forward, in the direction you are facing, and you will be met with both - neither of which welcome your presence nor will they spare your life. This is their home, their livelihood, and they do not show mercy to unwelcomed guests. Especially not guests who discover some... peculiar secrets about the pride that lurks here.

Or perhaps you will choose to turn around, to attempt to find your way home. After days, weeks - months, perhaps - of traveling, you will inevitably realize that no amount of walking will ever bring you home again. No, this is an entirely new continent, one which was never designed for lions to settle down in.

You may spend the rest of your life walking, running, or even hiding, but in the end, nothing will save you from fate. This is not your home, and you do not belong here. If you chose not to die to the lions you first caught scent of when you woke up in this wretched place, something else will ensure you do not make it far.

No choice you make will save your life. There is nothing you can do to see your pride again. You will die, just as everyone before you has.