It was a cold morning, especially for the savannah. The aroma of mildew and wet grass that followed a rain shower hung in the air. A low fog blanketed the earth. Under the faint light of the early twilight, a handful of birds flew, still silent.
In the dim fog walked a lion, noticeably scrawny for this time of year. His thin mane was but a shadow on his meek form. His glowing, green eyes pierced through the fog. A long scar ran over his left one. Sometimes he went on walks like this to get away from it all, to clear his head and sort through his thoughts. It was even better than being back at his cave where he had a nagging mate waiting for