We're lying down on the ground, the lightened gloom strikes at us by the moon, tinting our surroundings with various monochromatic shades of purple.

No matter how much Cragger counts the stars, or how much we spend time blathering about our lives, the purple moon sits still in the spotlight, stagnant; nighttime has never been this slow and peaceful.

Everything seems serene– it’s impossible to not feel refreshed, absorbed by the calm, soothing wind.

I notice Cragger get up, ripping off the grass with his feet. He stands still, stiffening his body into a square, although moving his tail side by side, as he crosses his arm and mumbles.

Unable to hear him properly, I reach out to him in anxiety,

“Hey, Cragger… what’s the matter?”

He lifts his lip, exposing his gums, “I want to leave”, he replies.

Instinctively, I seize his hand onto mine, out of fear that he rushes away from me, yet, even then, I might lose him– my vision is dim, we don’t have enough light near us. The worst part is… that I don’t even know where we are.

Cragger… please don’t go. You’ll hurt yourself.

He growls, rasping his voice in an unusual tone, “Why are you grabbing me? Can’t I walk around for a second?”

I try to drag Cragger down, but he agitates his hand, making me lose my grip.

“Please, stay! I don’t want you to—”

An unfortunate event happens, as my friend runs towards the unrecognizable horizon.

No… not again! Why can’t he stop abandoning me like this?…

I don’t want to be alone. I don’t.

Why does he need to be so reckless?

…I won’t let go of him. This world is too dangerous.

I push my paws forward and sprint with the speed my feeble legs can gather, the wind flies on my fur, everything around me blurs uncontrollably—

Thud!

I crash onto the ground. Cragger’s shouts echo out of nowhere, hiding light whimpers of nervousness, blending in with my cries.

The moment we shut our lips, leaves crunch from the distance. I turn around, and for a millisecond I encounter a wolf, with pitch black fur, staring at me, with a long, macabre snarl, as if it’s smiling. It pounces at me—

I fling my blanket across the room, gasping for air, as tears flood out of my eyes. Paralyzed, I can’t cry for help. I’m alone, afraid. Each word I utter turns out as sobs. My rapid breathing suddenly starts to strangle me. Am I spiraling out of control?

A gentle touch falls upon my shoulder; my dad, who pants as if he just ran a thousand miles, squeezes me comfortably between his arms.

“My son! What happened? Your hands are cold…“, Lagravis whispers.

My ribs clamp, heart pounding stiffly.

Without self control, I end up shouting, “Wolf! The wolf jumped at me!”

Blood pressure skyrockets.

Head feels light.

Pain spreads throughout me. It irks me with its adrenaline.

Dad pets my head, and, despite my panic, his soft paw pads warm my chilling skin. I lean onto him, in for a hug. It feels good.

My breath… is returning back to normal.

Phew– I meditate, breathing in the fresh air in my room.

…What happened? What? Was that even real?

He looks at me, confused. Of course, he asks if it was a nightmare. It probably was, thank goodness.

There’s no need to lash out like this.

“Laval”, he holds my hand, “Was there anyone else in your dream?”

Oh. No, no, no. No. I don’t want to make my dad worried. I don’t want to hear about the incident, but lying is not an answer.

“I dreamt about Cragger running away from me.”

Dad itches his chin. He’s going to piece everything together. He’ll take my nightmare seriously.

“I see… It’s normal to relive our worst fears during our sleep. Don’t fret, my son. I’ll take care of everything.”

He tucks me on my bed and kisses my forehead.

It is now morning. I look at myself in the mirror to distract myself: my red mane is starting to grow into little tufts, which means that in the near future I will no longer be a cub, but a teenager.

I tidy my sapphire blue tunic and put on my golden belt, locking it with my lion-faced buckle. My pale tan fur, after the nightmare, has become frizzy. Petrified amber eyes highlight the sickly dread on my muzzle. My paws are trembling.

I relax by the windowless stone arch. The view of our city from the temple is amazing and comforts me a bit; I can observe the forts forming a hexagon shape, the agglomeration of housing glued to its corners, and the tall, spherical towers at each edge. The center of the Lion Temple is bustling with animals from all tribes to visit the monthly Chi Market to sell their products. At this angle, everyone inside our kingdom looks like ants.

I might as well leave my room and take a breather.

We’re sitting on the first step of the Lion Temple’s entrance. The sun shines on Cragger’s scutes, as the light spreads along the grassy plains, which feeds the plants and makes them grow. Spring is a beautiful season, where Chima blooms with all kinds of colors.

Today’s a special day, better than the ones before– an eventful morning like this means that there is going to be a Speedor race! We’re not old enough to race yet, and I unfortunately can’t ride my Speedor for fun either, but my buddy has another idea.

“Laval, my papa is going to do something huge today!”, he leans near my ear and whispers, “He’s been practicing his tricks for this race. Want to see?”

“That’s nice. I didn’t know your dad went on Speedor Races at such an old age!..”

He stares at me, twitching his jaw hinge a little.

“Uh… Cragger, are you alright?”

He giggles, “I’m aight. It’s okay. Don’t mind me.”

I see… His body is intact. No scratches, no wounds. It’s like… nothing ever happened… but I doubt that he forgot about it, speaking such bittersweet words.

After a few hundred steps, we reach our destination, where its horizon is cluttered with Speedorz bolting left and right, in and out of our view. The animals here drift around the scattered obstacles with a tilt so tight that they seem to skim over the earth’s surface; at first glance, such skill is admirable and desired by many, although we’re quickly reminded that these racers are amateurs– their try-hard tricks backfire in style, as they’re thrown out of their bikes.

Heavy rumbling trembles our eardrums and attracts us to a huge stone ramp pointed in our direction. It’s too late to do anything now, we’ve been standing on its track without noticing. The sounds strengthen each passing second, while a vehicle sprints from afar whilst racking up momentum– and, in a matter of seconds, before we were given time to react, our gaze redirects towards the smirk of the scaled driver, as they propel their rectangular Speedor off the ramp, gracefully crossing the sky above us whilst gushing away a streak of dust on top of our heads. Mesmerizing.

I’m unable to take my eyes off this mysterious motorist, though the spectacle ended just as fast as it started. Knowing we’re surrounded by nonprofessionals, the first thought that has come to mind was an assumption about this performance being a mere hobbyist’s fluke, had the pilot not revealed himself as Crominus.

Yikes. Bold of me to dismiss pure skill as luck. Better than being crushed by a fool’s bad attempt at tryharding.

His curved posture might fool you, but, despite the short and fragile appearance, Crominus is a healthy and humble king. He waves at us with a welcoming smile.

“Papa! That was crazy! Would you teach me this trick, please..?”, Cragger climbs onto his dad’s lap and hugs him.

“Hey… you know you got to wait, eh? At my age, I only got my Speedor when I was an adult.”, the father cackles, “You have no clue how much time papa took to get this good! Lucky for you, I’ll show you my super-duper secret techniques when you grow up.”

They both laugh and crack jokes, untroubled about the incident. I’m glad Cragger is unharmed and continues to be a joyful kid– Crominus doesn’t mind his son’s lack of manners, nor does he expect maturity from him.

It’s all about his dad now… Does he even have a clue about the incident? Speedorz this, Speedorz whatever, biggest race of all time… Haha...

A soft breeze caresses away my soft mane tufts, shoving away the water from my tear ducts, and, standing here, the background blurs beneath the water lacrimating off my eyes– meanwhile, they tussle, one running after the other. In silence, I hold my hands together and tap my toes, awaiting their return.

Enough time has passed, I think, because the area is emptying by the minute, the drivers are rushing at the stronghold as their unicycles whip further down the road in a hurry up to the main gate. until only the three of us remain. Then, a bunch of lion guards start to gather the objects lying everywhere, marching throughout the circuit like ants, skipping to and fro.

Groaning calls my attention to an unusually short lion, crouching down in front of a boulder. He manages to latch onto the giant rock, pushing down his tendons to extend his claws, but it seems that the disproportionate size of the object counters the feline’s strength. Sometimes, big muscles aren’t enough– you’d need another pair.

In between the mass of workers, marches my uncle, who’s in charge of the guards in my tribe. He observes his employees’ work and compliments each and one of them with pats on the back. He manages to notice the struggling lion; with his much needed help, he comes to the rescue and shoves his claws on the bottom of the rock while chanting a rhythm, as to hint a cue for when the worker should lift.

“C'mon boys, let’s do this quick. The race’s starting pretty soon”, warns Lavertus after he gets up, signaling with hand claps.

My uncle turns around and our gaze meets– be it joy or worry, he wasn’t able to resist ignoring me, though it’s not like he would choose to do that anyway; the last time we were able to play with each other was a week ago! I stretch my arms and shut my eyelids in hopes of a hug, a head pat, or any kind of attention I can receive, but I’d really like a hug.

Lavertus!

Come here!…

Yet…

I’ve only felt the same emptiness as before, of the wind embracing my body and arms, caressing my short fur, only to seep away and roam back to its ephemeral trail.

To spy with my little eye, to witness my uncle’s grin dissolving by each step, might’ve been a mistake. I turn around, unfortunately Crominus’ glee begins to dissipate in synchrony, his posture slouches even further.

Lavertus’ tail whips sideways. Crominus' golden teeth shine with the slightest amount of brightness. I imagine their heartbeats gushing at an all time high whilst they fixate their energy into a threatening staredown; no one wants to say anything, intimidated by another one’s thoughts. Courage must arise for the silence to be broken.

My uncle has always been outgoing. However, his eyes are now hollowed by… chagrin? No– it’s not anger, but displeasure; his well-built chocolate body tenses up in reflex, he sticks out his claws out of his paws in disgrace.

The crocodile king leaves his Speedor, grabs his staff that was tucked on the vehicle, then pushes it down on the ground.

With such qualms seething from the two adults, intoxicating the ambience with distrust, I wonder… What happened between them? Why express such childish attitudes in public?

Actually, why would my uncle have personal issues against the king of the crocodiles?

By coincidence, the guards’ work was already done, and they disappear without a trace. Lavertus’ time here has ended. He, however, persists still, growling in murmurs.

My toes freeze, my lips shut tight, chills run down my spine. I can’t move. Adrenaline paralyzes each of my nerves while it drowns my blood, climbing throughout my veins up to the skull. My head feels light…

The clean blue sky showers the horizon with clouds, which patch shadows on us, sewn decaying light into intricate patterns.

Cold scales touch my hand and clutch my torso. Its soft cold soothes my body, meanwhile I observe the staredown. Thank you, Cragger.

“What are you doing here..? Shouldn’t you be elsewhere, Crominus?”, Lavertus snarls.

Crominus doesn’t reply, doesn’t utter a single word, neither does he twitch a muscle. Instead, he seems too immersed in his mind, as if this situation didn’t concern him much.

Finally, he lowers his head,

“Yes, I suppose…“, he sighs, “Please excuse me. I shall now take my leave.”

He pats my head prior to departing, his face drowned in sorrow as he walks to his Speedor, just when Cragger waves at me with his trembling arm, hiding fear under an awkward smile– his mouth lifts a bit, though he’s interrupted by the rumbling noises of Crominus’ unicycle. He waddles behind his dad at a slow pace, before I’m able to move or react.

Suddenly, Lavertus locks my neck on his arm, then later plays with my hair, showers me with lion kisses; he’s laughing without a care in the world, seemingly relieved about the clean, empty space, like a burden was lifted off him.

Despite these distractions, I’ve witnessed, all by myself, my friends climb up the stairs and merge with the mass of visitors, until they reach the fortress’ gate. Afterwards, the sculpted lion head raises high, leaving space for the swarm to be eaten by it as they go through the entrance.

Lavertus rubs his knuckles on my head with force and laughs. I roar in reflex,

“Ugh! Stop it, you goof!”

He lets go of me, his face miserably attempting to hold his grin.

As he throws his hair backwards with his paws, his mane flows out of his head and neck, reaching his shoulder blades; it waves right at the tips, resembling the perfect shape of a sand dune molded by the wind. Even with this disheveled look, Lavertus is the opposite of dry, as he’s constantly overflowing with personality and character. No wonder my tribe respects my uncle’s wit and charm, but sometimes he can go a little too far. Oh– this isn’t about the unceasing amount of lionesses who swoon over him. I’m referring to his nonchalant nature, a trait that is something rare among lions, and one that he overuses a lot. To see him tense is beyond improbable.

“Buddy, you’re grumpier than I thought…”, he whimpers, “Exactly like my brother.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Did you even pay attention to your actions? My uncle would never do something like this—”

He pushes air out of his nostrils, forcing his muzzle to fold upwards, “Kiddo, ignore what happened, please. This issue doesn’t concern cubs– don’t butt in adult matters, okay?”

Really? Does he think he can get away with these kinds of excuses..? Adult this, adult whatever, blah blah, they make me feel like I’m not good enough to be a prince. It’s just that… I haven’t heard such words bleed out of Lavertus’ mouth. Not even once throughout my life.

“Anyway, ‘bout your arm…“, he murmurs in a sudden change of subject, “I understand how you feel. We couldn’t find enough clues about the perpetrator, though I believe you were attacked by a rogue animal.”

I sigh, “It’s alright, uncle. I won’t feel bothered as long as nothing else happens.”

He kneels before me, caressing my cheek with one of his paws, subsequently giving me a warm grin.

“Okay, buddy! The race is about to start in a moment, so I’ll leave you there.”