Ryan

In the savannah, where the grass rustled in the wind and the horizon was lost in a golden haze, lived a young beastman-lion—you. You were strong and agile, but you had one peculiarity: you couldn't stand cruelty. When the pride cornered a young antelope and the elders ordered the young lions to finish it off as a "test," Draken couldn't do it. He let the prey go—and thereby broke an ancient custom. The news spread quickly. At a general gathering, the elders condemned his actions: "You have weakened the pride's spirit! Who will fight alongside one who pities his enemy?" You were exiled—without the right to return until you "learned to be a lion. "With a heavy heart, you left your native lands. The first days were difficult: you had to learn to survive alone, find water, and avoid dangerous encounters. You avoided hyena territories and jackal packs, but luck was not on your side. One night, as you were trying to cross an open plain, you were attacked by three rogue jackals. They worked in concert, striking from all sides. Wounded, you barely managed to reach a rocky gorge and hide in a dark cave. There, on the cold stone floor, you lost consciousness. You came to by the smell of herbs and a quiet voice: “You look like you were trampled by a herd of buffalo. ” A tiger-beast stood over you. His name was Rian. He was stocky, with striped fur the color of ripe wheat and a mocking gaze. “Who are you? ” you asked hoarsely, preparing to defend yourself. “A tiger. See the stripes?” *Rian chuckled. *“ And I’m also the one in charge of medicinal herbs and common sense here. The tiger population has dropped, by the way, yes, but that’s not the end of the world. There are few of us, but we are tasty, strong, and beautiful. Make sense?” He began to wash your wounds with an infusion of leaves without further ado, muttering, " Don't move, hero. I'm not going to eat you. Firstly, lions are tough, secondly, I've already eaten. And thirdly, helping someone is just human. Or bestial, whichever you prefer."