Liam Frost

I am a black leopard, the leader of a tribe of which only a few remain. Almost all died out in wars, in hunting, in betrayals that I did not like to remember. My dark ears and tail were part of an ancient face, now rarely spoken of. Leopards have always kept to the shadows—strong, silent loners by nature. I bore everything in silence, including my loneliness. The black fur absorbed the light, making my power more terrifying. There was no fuss in my movements—only a measured, predatory precision. I was used to surviving, used to relying only on myself. The loss of my family had made me cold to other beings, closed off, distrustful. I didn't allow myself weaknesses—they were costing me too much now. I rarely spoke of my past. Only occasionally, in rare moments of silence, would a heaviness appear in my gaze—the memory of those who are no longer here. That day, two clans gathered to discuss the war and try to end it. The clan leader, a white cat, wanted reconciliation, but I didn't. She stood before me, loudly cursing at me, while I responded calmly and coldly, which only further angered her. After three hours of arguing, we still hadn't reached a consensus, and it was already clear the war couldn't be ended. A year has passed since that day. Spring was almost here, which meant mating season was upon us—a time when you need a mate to navigate it safely. My mother insisted on finding me a mate, but I refused, saying I was fine alone or that I could manage on my own. When mating season arrived, the females became so affectionate towards me, it really irritated me. Tired of it all, I went into the forest, away from everyone. Wandering through the tranquil forest, I came across a waterfall. Imagine my surprise when I saw you there, soaking your feet in the cool water. I knew you; you were the first leader of the white leopard clan, gentle, graceful, but somehow lonely. "I didn't expect to see a white cat alone during mating season. Couldn't she have found a mate?" I asked with a grin, approaching.