You crouch down low, keeping your eyes locked onto the gazelle as it warily drinks from a pond. Creeping closer, you wiggle your butt for balance a final time before springing out of the grass and pouncing, easily knocking down the animal and killing it with a swift blow. You swish your tail, pleased to have caught such an easy meal. Flopping down with a huff, you dig into the warm carcass.

As you eat your meal, you spared a moment to gaze at the scenery surrounding you. It was much greener than at home, and, albeit a little muddy, a perfect place to hunt. It was teeming with wildlife, and you make a mental note to direct your lionesses to hunt there more often. Finishing the last bite of the gazelle, you stand up with a stretch, eyeing a moving patch of grass. One more hunt, perhaps? Once again, you get low to the ground and begin stalking your next prey, still hiding in the bushes.

You bunch your muscles, ready to give chase when all of a sudden two figures come barrelling toward you. Alarmed, you jump to the side, making eye contact with… another lion? The lion in question stops, letting his prey run off, and walks closer to you. Standing face-to-face, you realize he is much bigger than you, but you stand your ground anyways. “Who are you?” You ask, an edge of hostility in your voice. The lion merely raises an eyebrow, looking almost amused at your bold tone. After a long moment, he finally speaks.

“I am Asmundsen, king of the Lowland pride. You are imposing on my territory, lion.”

This time, its your turn to raise your brow. “Territory? You live in this swamp?” You ask incredulously, hardly believing the implications. How could a whole pride live in such wet conditions?

Stepping back, Asmundsen lets a small smile creep onto his face. “We do, its not as bad as it looks,” he chuckles. “Would you like to look around?”

Sensing no hostility from this foreign king, you reluctantly accept his invitation and follow him inwards.

Rabi paced back and forth, flexing her claws anxiously in the mud. She swore she could almost feel her nerves as they spiked farther than they’d ever been before, and the once-comforting roots of her sleeping den seemed to close in on her. Today was the day. The rise of the morning sun marked the day she would ascend from cubhood. Her heart was pounding, and her head swam in circles. Around and around and around, she thought, trying to keep track of her thoughts. You’ve hunted before, why would today be any different?

Her turmoil continued to spin around in her head, pushing her worries in merciless circles. She was so caught up in her imagination that the sound of approaching footsteps completely escaped her notice. A gentle tap on her shoulder jarred her back into reality, like a cold splash of water. All at once, the thoughts stopped, leaving an empty buzz where they used to be. She sucked in a breath.

“It’s time,” a lioness murmured. “They’re waiting.”

Rabi swished her tail, giving herself one last moment before following the lioness. She recognized Iva, a sleek, spotted lioness renowned for her skills. She was one of the best hunters in the pride, and it humbled Rabi to have an opportunity to hunt with her.

Silently, the two lionesses skillfully maneuvered through the thick brambles and muddy grounds, following a well-used path. Another pair of lionesses were waiting for them at their destination -- a small clearing with a sludgy creek flowing through it. This is where the hunters always met before a hunt.

Iva greeted her friends with a purr, who then greeted her back. Those three were old friends, having been together since they were just kits. After exchanging friendly hello’s, the group turned to Rabi. Caria, an almost red lioness with a light underbelly, spoke up.


“This is where we’ll split up, Rabi. You’ll go over there-” she pointed her chin toward the river, which flowed into a thick wall of trees. “And we’ll stay out of your way while we hunt.”

Rabi gulped, her heart picking up pace. This was it. She’ll be alone, hunting by herself with nobody to help. Hesitantly, she nodded her understanding. “And meet back here when the sun is high,” she finished meekly, repeating the instructions she’d been told previously. Caria smiled softly, nuzzling Rabi on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine, just remember what we’ve taught you.”

With those final words of comfort, the trio turned and disappeared behind the treeline, leaving Rabi alone.

Turning away, the young lioness began her trek by the river, following the flow that leads to the Innerlands. Her ears perked up while she made a mental list of possible prey, observing her surroundings. Frogs, fish, and turtles by the water. Go further out to find birds and lizards.

Balancing precariously on a fallen log, Rabi studied the path ahead. If she continued following the river, she recalled, the water would open up into deeper ponds and lakes. Fish and frogs would be an easy find, but she would need to be mindful of crocodiles. If she veered the other way, the trees would thin out and house birds and rabbits, although it was quite far. “Quick and dangerous, or slow and safe?” she mused aloud, debating her options.

She glanced up at the sky, making a note of the sun's position. It was no longer sitting on the horizon, but instead halfway to its peak. She could make it to the Edge and back, but she would have to hurry.

Coming to a decision, Rabi elegantly hopped off the log and crossed the river. She’d always been told that rushed hunting would yield no results, and chasing after rabbits would waste too much time. Parting her mouth open to catch more scents, she began weaving through various flora until she reached her destination -- a small sequence of ponds. The results were immediate, a group of ducks were feasting on various bugs and fish just beside her spot in the trees.

Licking her lips, Rabi crouched down low and crept closer, staying as quiet as possible. Fortunately, the grass was tall enough to hide behind, and the lioness took advantage of her position to watch her prey. The ducks remained unaware and casually began to meander toward the shore. After a moment, which felt entirely too long, they were near enough to strike. Bunching her muscles, Rabi sprang out of the bushes and pounced.

The ducks went into chaos, squabbling and flapping their wings in panic. Little black and white feathers flew as they ran into each other, distracting Rabi for a moment. Regaining her senses, she was able to quickly catch one before they waddled back to the safety of the pond and snapped its neck. A clean, efficient kill.

Proudly, Rabi held the duck carcass in her jaw as she began her trek back home. It was a simple hunt, and she couldn’t believe she worked herself into such a tizzy over it. And now, as soon as she returned, she would rise from cubhood and finally move in with the older lions, leaving her denmates behind. At least, until they completed their own ascension, she reminded herself.
With a newfound bounce in her step, she began planning what epic story she would tell her siblings.

....

She glanced up at the sky, making a note of the sun's position. It was no longer sitting on the horizon, but instead halfway to its peak. She could make it to the Edge and back, but she would have to hurry.

Coming to a decision, Rabi elegantly hopped off the log and crossed the river. She’d always been told that rushed hunting would yield no results, and chasing after rabbits would waste too much time. Parting her mouth open to catch more scents, she began weaving through various flora until she reached her destination -- a small sequence of ponds. She was about to exit the cover of the trees when she spotted something.

There, only a small distance from her, was a baby hippo. It was alone, eating from a cluster of leafy branches. Where was its mother? Does she go for it? If Rabi brought back a whole baby hippo, everyone would praise and compliment her -- the cubs would be so impressed! Determined, Rabi scanned the area for any signs of its mother, and, seeing none, she crouched down low. Bunching her muscles, she crept closer to the hippo, still oblivious to its own demise, and sprang. Her claws made contact with the hippo’s shoulders, knocking it down. It thrashed, kicking against Rabi with surprising strength as it let out a scream. It was loud, and Rabi was sure the lions back home could hear it. Pinning it down between her claws, the young lioness aimed her teeth at its throat and struck…

…but nothing happened. The hippo’s skin was too thick, and no matter how hard she bit down her teeth couldn’t pierce deep enough to kill it. With all the struggling, the baby was able to break free and run away, knocking Rabi down in the process. She sprang back up, ready to give chase, when she saw a giant blubbery mass barrelling toward her. A giant mouth opened up, emitting a fierce whine as it came closer. It was the mother hippo!


Panicking, Rabi darted back into the trees, running as fast as her legs could take her. She should have known better than to disturb a baby hippo, they are never far from their herd. Despairingly, she looked to the sky and saw the sun. Her time was up, and she had caught nothing. Hanging her head down low, the young lioness began her shameful walk home.

Your fur stands up on end as you slowly walk down the aging cobble path to a massive, twisting tree. While you chose to go here voluntarily, you can’t help but be a bit unnerved by the isolated, creepy feel of the area. The sky overhead is a muted gray and completely cloudless, and besides the dead tree towering over you up ahead, there’s very little plant life to be found. Tufts of varying weeds brush at your paws as you finally arrive at the entrance. Ornate patterns have been carved into the wood by a steady claw; squinting at them, they certainly strike you as very… expressive. They depict everything from bones to insects to swamplands, and overall give you a profound feeling of emptiness. You shake off the chill that came over you and enter the tree. Inside, you are amazed by what you find.

It almost seems to you like the roots of this tree have been growing in on themselves instead of down and out. Roots of varying shapes and sizes twist about below you, and all along the edges of the hollowed out trunk, they jut out like rudimentary shelves. Wares of all sorts are advertised on them. You find everything from various prey items to things that look downright magical. Crystals, healing herbs, knickknacks… there certainly is no lack of inventory here. You drift along the edges of the tree, gazing at everything in rapt fascination.

You hear a noise behind you before long, however, and turn around with ears perked forward. You find a mighty, aging lion standing there, with a scarred pelt and an impassive expression. He dips his head to you, and you do the same. This is not a place of war, and you have no intention of fighting. Neither does he.

“I see you’re interested in what I have to offer. There’s plenty here, my friend. Feel free to ask about anything.” He gives you a warm small smile. “I will be attending to matters outside, but whenever you’re ready to buy, just ask for Asmund. I’ll be there right away for your beetles.” You watch him leave, a purposeful stride to his mighty steps, before turning back to your previous task.

You stand alone. Your fur prickles as the slightest breeze sends a shiver down your spine, unnerving you to the core. Tall trees surround you, their canopy so thick it almost completely blocks out the sun. An eerie silence fills you with dread, and you almost regret following Asmundsen deeper into his territory.

Reminding yourself of his directions, you force yourself onwards. Just ahead is a giant tree; bigger than you’ve ever seen. Its massive roots sprawled out and inwards on itself to form a rather large hollow, loosely resembling a gnarled mouth. A curtain of leaves covers the entrance, and, with a paranoid glance behind you, you timidly push them back and step in. Immediately, the sense of dread lifts. You’re still uneasy, but inside the tree was much more welcoming than outside it. Small shelves formed by the endless roots were stocked to the brim with all sorts of treasures. Neat rows of crystals, fresh piles of carcasses, every kind of plant you can think of, and even… are those balls? You go a little closer, wondering if your eyes were deceiving you. They weren’t, and you quickly back away, trying to comprehend which lion they came from.

“See anything interesting?” a voice suddenly says, startling you out of your… vivid imagination. You turn to the source, glad to see a familiar face. Asmundsen stands near the entrance, watching you inspect his goods. “Everything here is top-quality, they don’t come cheap.”

You nod, understanding the hidden meaning behind his words; this place is not for lowballers. Satisfied with your reaction, Asmundsen shuffles over to the opposite corner where he begins to tidy up. “If something catches your eye, I’ll be over here. Don’t take too long.”

With that being said, you continue browsing.

When you left your den this morning, you never would have guessed your paws would be squelching in sticky, neverending mud as you tried to hunt. Each time you spotted an animal, you couldn’t get within a reasonable distance before they saw you fighting against the terrain and running away. You were frustrated, and In a final fit of anger, you decided to turn around and leave this horrible place.

You didn’t get far before seeing a lion in the distance. If it wasn’t for the fact he was covered in small, white patches, you would have never seen him against that tree. Warily, you let him approach, eyeing the large, bulky muscles under his pelt. “Who are you?” he asks using a deep, powerful voice. You immediately recognize this is a lion who commands respect, and you quickly explain your situation before he decides to use force. You were only exploring, and you didn’t know this territory belonged to someone. The lion merely raised an eyebrow, observing you. After a long moment, he chuckles.

“Very well” he rumbles, accepting your answer. “My name is Asmundsen, and I am the king of this swamp. Are you having trouble?”

You relax slightly, somewhat confident of his good intentions. Although you can't quite read his expressions, it doesn’t seem like he means you any harm. Hesitantly, you nod your head.

Asmundsen nods and points his chin in the direction he came from. “Over there is a path more friendly to newcomers. Follow me.”

He turns around, leaving you no time to reply.

That dull ache had returned once more, the third time today if he remembers right. Asmundsen sighed as he lifted himself, finally waking up from a much needed nap that soon evolved into a long slumber. Slowly making his way out of the shade from where he rested, with a long but elegant drag following each step, a chore is what he would call it nowadays. Each step taking up much of his limited energy.

'Have you considered retiring?'
Various shades of gray now mixing into his reddish brown coat and even bigger patches of gray now staining his once dark mane.

'Know that you are not getting any younger...'
With a light groan he sat down in hopes of catching much needed sunlight, his joints bothering him more than ever as days and months pass by.

"Old this, old that, old my a-"
He went quiet as a group of cubs ran by him, a broodmother following behind the small group with nervous haste in her step and a speedy bow of her head towards Asmundsen, of which he softly lowered his head as a nod in return.

"And you're finally up!" his son spoke with a young playfulness to his voice.
As Asmundsen slowly lifted his head back up, Achim sat beside him.

"Thought you were out. The Lowlands? Maybe the Innerlands?"
"That was this morning." Achim pointed with his head at the sky, the sun right above them,
"Looks like midday right now if I do say so myself!"
He added, "The sun is at its highest point!"

Asmundsen gave a soft nod, "I can see that." he eyed Achim for a moment, his heir if he may add. His soft expression soon turned to a frown as he took a closer look at the young heir's wet mane.

"Out swimming again?" The question came out a bit louder than he would've liked. "No meat eating fishes or crocodiles." Achim sang as if it was second nature to say such a sentence. Asmundsen opened his mouth to ask, but Achim quickly interrupted him, "And no carnivorous hippos or plants." The young heir shrugged, "No idea why water scares you that badly. The cubs seem to enjoy playing with it."

Asmundsen's eyes widened slightly at his new discovery, "You're leading cubs into the water."
"-swimming!" Achim quickly corrected him before his father jumped to conclusions.

"Teaching them to swim. They were swimming." He finally added as Asmundsen's shoulders relaxed somewhat but his expression said otherwise as he spoke up, "I helped them avoid." His frown returned,, "Your grandfather killed so many, by accident I am aware, but the risk wasn't worth it."

Achim half listened until Asmundsen stood back up and spoke once more.
"You are ruining what I built." a hoarse growl escaped him.

With one final huff the old king turned around and made his way back to his sleeping quarters.

The young heir quietly stared at his father's leaving form, unsure how to respond and a hurt but shocked expression marinating his features.

He looked out at his pride, a light smile on his face. The sun caught in his fur, making it seem lighter than what the usually dark colors were. Asmundsen knew he was going to die soon. He had less energy than before, and his eyesight was getting worse with the days. The bright madagascar coloring littered with white in his mane had new spots of gray, easily visible. The laughter he could once hear from the lands around him had grown quiet with each week passing, and he had to start going closer to the lions he talked to. Asmundsen shook his head, banishing the thoughts of death from his mind, and looked out to his side. His powerful son, Achim was sitting close to a lioness, talking to her about the hunt of that day. Achim caught his eye, and smiled brightly.

“Looks like the pride has been fed well,” The heir said, getting up from the lioness, and walking towards his father. “It will be another good day.” He laughed lightly.
“That it should,” Asmundsen nodded along, the light smile growing into a bright one. He looked out at the lionesses resting in the Innerland. “Would you like to hear a story?” He turned back to his son. “We’d have to get your Mother as well,” He thought to himself for a moment. “You know what? Get the whole pride,” His smile was brighter than before.

Achim smiled, and started to run around the area the pride spent their days in. “Pride meeting!” He nudged the cubs up gently, getting them excited, and playing with each other. “Come on young ones,” He laughed as they complained that he wasn't that much older then them.
As the lions started to circle King Asmundsen, he greeted them one by one. “Welcome-” he laughed when one of the cubs gently backed into his paws. “Careful, little one,” He nudged it back towards its mother. “Go back with your mother,” He laughed gently. The King sat, his Queen soon joining him.
“What's this all about?” Namani asked her mate, nudging his shoulder gently with her nose. “New ideas?” She tilted her head in question.
“No.” Asmundsen laughed. “It’s time for shared memories. Time for laughter, and hope,” He looked out to his pride. “A time to remember the past, and a time to hope for the future.” He turned to his Queen.

Asmundsen turned to his pride. “Tell your stories today and now. Laugh and see joy, cru and know loss.” He smiled at them brightly. “Tell your story, your knowledge of your life, and use it to tell others what you have learned,” He stood up. “Share the lessons of your life.” He nudged his wife. His Queen. He watched as his pride slowly started to converse with each other, telling the stories of what they had gone through. He turned to his son, smiling.

“This is what you must do,” Asmundsen put his head against Achim’s shoulder. “Let the pride live with each other. See how each other lives,” He nodded at a pair that included a broodmother and a hunter. “They don't know how the other lives,” the King nodded towards an adolescent and a cub, “And the eldest is teaching the younger what not to do,” He laughed slightly.
Achim leaned into his father. “I see..” He murmured to himself. “If they know how each other lives, then they will get along better.” He turned to his father, leaning back gently so he could see the entire King. “there will be less conflict, and more of getting along with one another..”

Achim smiled brightly at his father, as Asmundsen responded to him. “It’s a wonderful thing to have a pride that gets along..” He nodded slowly, moving his head from Achim’s shoulder. “There's peace, and less problems,” He looked at his pride again. “It feels like you can just live sometimes. Not have to be king, but still have to put on a good show of being the king. Learn how your pride works, and who works well with who. Have fun, and get to know people who you will love,” He set his head down on his Queen, Namani’s, shoulder.

“I remember that day when you came walking in with such-” Namani laughed before she could finish her sentence. “It was almost like swagger,” She told Achim. “He came in sometime when he was an adolescent- and he looked so proud that he had grown a noticeable mane,” She snickered to herself. “It was really only baby hairs-”
Achim laughed loudly. “Really? Only baby hairs?” He put his head down, his shoulders shaking with joy. “How could you be so proud of only baby hairs?” He looked at his father.
“To be fair, I thought they were wonderful.” Asmundsen narrowed his eyes at them both.

“Well..” Namani looked at Asmundsen then her son. “They weren’t the best.. But they were something?” She smiled weakly.
“You are horrible-” Asmundsen told his queen. “Absolutely horrid,” He laughed with her and Achim. “I thought you were supposed to be nice to me!”
“Technically she's not being mean,” Achim pipped in smiling at his father. “She’s telling the truth, which you’ve always said is the best thing to do,” He smiled brightly.
“Stop using my logic against me, kid,” Asmundsen pushed against his shoulder lightly. “You’re supposed to be on my side remember? You’re my son,”

“Yes, but I am also hers,” Achim put his head against his mother’s shoulder. “So I am sideless in picking between you two, simple,” He smiled. “I am simply existing as the inbetween,”
“He is your son, after all,” Namani laughed with her son. “That's one hundred percent you in him,” She patted Achim’s head with her, smiling. “The next great king is going to be a total idiot.”
“I will not!” Achim sputtered. “I will be great- I will help the pride become more secure and safe within the lands– like Dad did-” He stuttered along with ideas for the future of when the pride became his.

“Come here son,” Asmundsen smiled, getting up. “Namani, stay here for me, dear?” he asked her lightly.
“Of course.” Namani smiled, standing with them, and putting her head against each of their shoulders. “Come back soon, okay?” She walked into the pride and started to disappear.
Asmundsen nodded at Achim. “This way,” He stalked off in the opposing direction of Namani. They came upon a semi-dry hill surrounded by the water. “You know the pride will be yours sooner than later, Achim.” He looked at his son before sitting down.
“I know..” Achim said sadly. “Teach me a little before you go?”
“Always.”

...

The pride will always know Asmundsen as a great teacher. A great mentor, and everything good in this world. There's not a single thing that he could have done any better, and they will continue to tell stories of this great King for generations to come. This King helped his pride reach safety in the deepest parts of the Lowlands, keeping them hidden from any outsiders with malicious intent. Always helping out whenever, and wherever he can. There will never be another king as brave, kind, majestic, or as helpful as Asmundsen.

"And this here is Benka." Asmundsen nods at the adolescent lioness to come closer; a quiet yet young Achim staring at her in distaste as any youngster would.

With a raise of his brow, Asmundsen nudged Achim's side, bringing him back from his thoughts.
"Benka here is the daughter of an old family friend, your grandfather's, to be exact."
The King's expression softens as he continues, "Her pride is going through some difficult times that are well out of our control. She will remain with us until then." His head turns to look at her slightly worried expression.
He bowed lightly to her in return, "Make yourself comfortable."

With a final nudge to keep Achim's attention up, Asmundsen spoke up as he started to make his way out, "Be sure to show her around."

"And Benka", He adds jokingly with a stop in his step, "if he bothers you too much just let me know."

You left your den feeling a little more adventurous than usual. Maybe it was the sunny day, or a smell carried by the wind, but while you were exploring you decided to turn onto a different path. It was dark and humid, and the further you went, the more wet your paws became. The trees became thicker, blocking out the sky with tightly interwoven canopies. Their roots became more twisted and thin, resembling a giant spider with too many legs. You were beginning to get unnerved by the silence.

About to turn back, you hear an odd sound nearby. It sounded like something was splashed into water and slapped on a rock. Curious, and relieved to take your mind off the eerie shadows of the swamp, you approach the noises with the best stealth you could muster. The trees thinned abruptly and a narrow river churned slowly just beyond. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until a sudden head emerging out of the water startled you. It was a lion! You watched as he carried a fat, wriggling fish onto the shore, spitting it onto a small pile. You forgot you were trying to hide and got spotted immediately.


He tensed, eyes narrowed as if he didn’t know what to do. “Who are you?” he asked, squaring his shoulders. The intimidation would have worked if his soaked mane wasn’t stuck to his face.

You explain how you were only exploring and didn’t mean to intrude, inching backwards in case you needed to run. He relaxed slightly, but kept his posture.

“Ehm, alright,” he quickly glanced back at his pile of fish, looking eager to get back to his task. “I’m working on something at the moment…” he muttered, seeming to search for an explanation.

After a moment he just shook his head, sending some water droplets flying out of his mane. “Go look for my mate, Benka. She’ll help you find your way around.”

You waited a moment for him to continue, but he had turned his attention back to the water. You quietly slip back onto the path and continue inwards, hoping to find the lioness.