WinterSirens's Den

The grass under your paws is soft, and the sky above is dark. The moon and the stars guide you forward to the bank of the river, where algae clings to every rock and in between every crevice of stone. Small fish are the only thing that disrupts the flow of the water, and you watch for a moment before turning you're head. You jump at the sight of a lion, whose fur is silvery-gray and whose mane is a soft pink. He smiles and laughs a little, extending a paw forward in a small greeting.
“I am Iris, king of this land. It is pleasure to have you visit us.”
And then, beyond him, you can see shapes slinking. Several lions, who have made their home in a small valley beside the river, watch from afar. Iris smiles once more before turning around and heading back to his pride, tail sweeping forward as an invitation.