I don’t know what I expected when I came here; maybe it’s the dry air that’s making me sick, or the weight of witnessing a funeral… Probably both.

Cragger and I are standing behind a spike, as we witness wolves stand in a circular formation around a huge hole on the ground they dug up; an entire graveyard made out of one single grave. None of those who died will have the peace of rest, but instead, seems like they’re going to be piled on top of each other. Everyone keeps waiting for the corpses to arrive— and they do, carried, inside a container, by Wakz’s Pack Tracker. Then, the vehicle brakes in front of the hole, ready to dispose of the bodies.

The wolves bow, they open their muzzles, howling harmoniously underneath the hidden moon; next, elders stand within a hand’s reach near that pit, ready to throw there little bits and pieces of fruits and herbs clasped between their claws.

I look west at the sun, who aligns itself atop Mount Cavora, spreading light everywhere. Sun rays hit the land spikes, as they project shadows that point at my right. The wolves, inspired by darkness surrounding them, grasp the ground and pay attention to their elders’ words. Prayers of perseverance, pleas to the moon— all tears from those who suffered, but still continue to ask for help during their pain; they cry a shower of flowers in loyalty to it, even if it was the one to doom their brethren. Soon, those tears blend, after the elders open hands, and it turns into a colorful curtain, a flowerbed for the dead.

Winzar makes his way towards the container. Vibrations smear out of his footsteps; they are strong– I can feel it with my whiskers–, intimidatingly imposing silence. When he opens that container, it drops forth the piles of bodies as they tumble and crash into the void. Everything ends when those corpses, muffled by their fur, scream ‘thud’ at the pit’s bottom, the sound pounding on our eardrums.

Cragger looks at me, terrified– jaw open, and eyes smaller than a speck of dust. The crocodile clings onto me; I’m held hard enough by my friend’s arms to feel the intense heartbeat punching from his chest.

He sobs in a whisper, leaning at my ear, “Is… Is this what happens to us after we die?”

A tear crosses down his face, slowly touching my fur. I pat him on the head, but the crying only gets louder, as loud it can get. While under my breath, tears begin to flow down from me too.

Water brims out of Cragger’s daffodil eyes. For the Fangs’ crust, it is a precious gift, one that brings life to this lifeless land– a second chance for those who rest. If only we— all tribes of Chima— could’ve helped prevent this massacre… All we can do is go forth and protect those in danger, starting with the wolves who might soon succumb to their next night. Alas, those losses happened inexplicably, and might’ve also been unavoidable… Is this such work of a king?

In the meantime, we begin to hear a melancholic melody flowing out of the pack’s voices, and it blends against Wakz’ humming; must be their final goodbye to the dead, memorialized into a ritual. Then, Winzar, along other pride mates, push the dirt back where it was dug up from, and thus finishing the ceremony.

We can’t, and shall not, be caught here; it would be quite rude of us to appear uninvited at an event like this one. Neither of us had thought on an ‘escape plan’, because it never came to our mind up at this point. Since we came here behind the wolves’ car, it wouldn’t be wise to repeat that again– it’s unlikely that the vehicle goes away from The Fangs, as the Wolf Lair is camped near the burial. Though, not a lot of choices are available to us. I’m afraid we might have to find someone, and hope they don’t suspect a thing.

After we turn our backs, the fogs of sadness blurring my mind dissolve away; with it, the real silence of steps and murmurs returned. Passive noises of a beetle’s buzzing elytra tick me off, and I whip my hand to swat the bug— fingers fetch on the recoiling paw at my back.

Worriz stands behind my arm while clutching it, then lets me go as he positions himself in front of our path. He puffs up and growls. A tough look like his is never a good sign—

Cragger rushes behind me. He’s scared of what the little wolf might do. Size might be lacking, but a sharp tongue is nonetheless an efficient weapon, capable of lethality if used properly… And, coming from Worriz himself, there is no doubt that he won’t leave it without causing ruckus…

I look at my surroundings, but can’t find any Speedor in sight. Even that pack tracker behind the ground’s hole has begun to leave, too! Bad luck for us, because this time I didn’t even bring anything.

Worriz points fingers at me, “Never mind how you came here. What did you say last time back at the Forever Rock, Laval?” he snarls while licking his snout.

My heart bursts into flames, and the combusting adrenaline riles up through my veins. This face… it means no good. What if he uses whatever happened earlier, against me? It wasn’t much, but he’s taking it so aggressively that…

The rhythmic lung movements, breathing in and out, bump onto each of the rib inside my caged chest. It needs to get free; I need to escape. Do not succumb to Worriz’ ruthlessness.

“You idiot! Can’t even remember your ‘thoughtful words’. Disgraceful”, he pulls on my tunic, “Fine, I’ll ask it instead; tell me how you’ll help us, and how long it’ll take for you to do it.”

I instinctively place myself distant from him, but he persists to close the gap between us. As I move backwards, my torso hits a land spike— and Worriz pins me his hind paw. I push the wolf’s toes aside, still holding it with a though grip.

Nothing is possible at this point. Cragger’s whimpers only get worse and it riles up the pup even more… until he waves his hand at me, like a sign for me to wait; though his awkward smile expresses uncertainty, or maybe even fear.

Within the blink of my eyes, I managed to capture a drastic change of scenery, during when these two kids had begun fighting each other.

…It didn’t stop at that blink; they’re still tumbling on one another with cascades of boundless punches really close to me. The crocodile immobilizes Worriz on his back; I roll away from them in the short time frame before the wolf breaks free, hiding behind the fang of dirt.

A few seconds later, I hear a pathetic growl from behind.

“D— don’t pick me by the scruff! Argh! Laval, just answer my question already, you coward!”

My heart skips a beat, I try to remain calm, but the sight of my friends tearing each other apart— it hurts badly.

I wanted to help his people. It felt wrong to stay silent during all of this terror; even as a cub, there’s always a way for me to help… for I am the prince of the Lion Tribe. Something can be done. I just… don’t know how to help. I fear of turning everything worse, or being in the way of help. Instead of placing myself as a possible obstacle…

“I’ll use my position of power as prince to extract information and opinions from animals.”

He recoils, confused, staring at me in mockery.

“Then, I’ll analyze whatever was collected, and use that for guidance. It might not lead me to the solution… but it’ll help our leaders with their strategies, and avoid as much confrontation possible.”

Worriz seems suspicious… though, he looks at me with a serious face. “You’re kidding me, right? A child like you can’t possibly do all of that”.

I push myself forward, just before Cragger lets go of the wolf. My lips rise with strengths I never knew of having, revealing my growling voice.

“Why are you doubting me?” I reach closer to him, exposing my teeth bare.

His immediately shrink. Somehow, I managed to intimidate him— it was out of my control… but it went to my favor.

Worriz whimpers, “Go back home and do as you said.”

Time is of the essence. …Did I say that right? Ah, forget about it, it’s my dad that says these kinds of stuff… I need to concentrate on my work, a survey I thought out. What was the deadline Worriz set for this? I don’t think he said anything about that yesterday.

The sun hits the open window of my room, sizzling my fur. It’s too hot in here and I can’t think of anything! Do I need to drink some water? Again?

Pen in hand, paper on the table, I sit in front of what might be able to help us in this dire situation. It’s blank, but it’s the key we need—

It’s blank.

The pencil sitting between my paws waits for the moment I push it onto my project and begin to write. Its tip, made out of charcoal, shines in faint tones of light— it was sharpened not long ago, too.

I look outside; I sigh in relief at the sight of a bright, early morning. But the clock continues to tick, click and swing. Clouds swim throughout the horizon, almost in synchrony with the noises snapping each second.

Again, the paper continues empty. Nothing will be done at this pace!

Think, Laval… think! What is of utmost importance, something that needs to be highlighted and questioned, right now? My hand begins to tremble, but I know it’s no use to be still!

…Yes! I need to ask about Chi first. It’s powerful and important to all of us… but is it harming the wolves? Uncle Lagravis said that they were after it, and that it was the reason for them becoming strong like that. What if I try finding out what lions think about this— or, what to do about this?

The noises of friction on the paper start to itch my brain. I can feel the ideas rushing from my thoughts straight to the paper.

About the wolves… It’s important to know how my people feel about them. We can’t run into trouble against those who are suffering through something we don’t understand yet. I don’t want to risk my tribe of growing resentful, especially when our biggest event of the year was interrupted by wolves… It all started with me, the prince, getting attacked, so this will also influence the answers… but it’ll be all revealed later.

I sigh, fatigued, but relieved as well, because I finally managed to strip all of my questions and place them into the survey.

Now… it’s time to leave.

I step down the lion temple’s stairs; a once bustling place, the Chi Market is now empty. Of course, today isn’t Chi Market day, but the absence of lions who would rest here, laying their torsos onto the , sitting on top of abandoned barrels and relaxing, gives off a disheartening melancholy. Though, it’s not just simply melancholy– I can sense their dread, one that stems from today’s annihilation, a wound so fresh that no one knows how to cope with it, but I think I can tend their injuries…. starting at this door!

I give the door a slight knock. For a few seconds, my gaze points at the text I had written, at the wobbly handwriting whose ink is engraved into the fibrous plant remnants we call paper.

The wolves, the Chi, the lions, my family, my father, me. We are all in danger.

If I’m not able to pull this through, I might not—

“Oh, a lost cub…“, a sweet and tender voice whispers beneath the noises of the opening door, “Do you have something for me?”

I hand over the questionnaire and the pen to this lioness, who reads it with attention, seemingly surprised by what’s written.

“So I just sign what I think?”

“Yes… exactly that.”

She moves the pen, pressing it onto the paper, hesitating on what she’ll answer. What is she confused about?…

I touch my forehead– that’s why she’s looking at me like that; I forgot my crown at home.

After a long minute of wait, she returns my materials while smiling, though she can’t hide the awkwardness leaking from her muzzle. In the end, I got to see someone’s opinion on the matter. Now, I need a few more participants to get a result.

At another house, I knock on the door, waiting patiently for a reply. My hind paws balance forth, as my tail wags in eagerness. It seems the papers are a bit out of order, so I organize them back in place. However, time still passes by. Waiting isn’t the problem here— it’s the difference in responses that piqued my curiosity, and as far as this knock goes, no one has come.

I tap again, now with my knuckles hardened, and the noise of the hits echo through the door. Then, it opens faster than I could’ve expect, revealing to me a short brunet lion. His tan body is quite muscular, with a Chi holder strapped around his shoulder and torso.

“Laval… is that you?”, his voice rises in happiness.

I proceed to hand over my papers.

“Yeah, I mean… Wait— how did you know that?”

He picks up my item and flips over the pages. “Of course I do. I work for your father!”, he giggles.

Yikes…. what a dumb question. The harness on his chest is worn only by lion warriors! I should’ve seen that coming. Furthermore… having a lion warrior give his opinion on my survey might help me out a lot. His tall smirk would soon dissolve at the last page.

“Oh… you mean that, right?…”

The smug expression on his face had completely dissipated into a state of terror. He signs on the papers then hands me my materials, before whispering mournful words and closing the door.

The study, with over a hundred participants, has been completed. Whatever opinions my people wrote down here will change the trajectory of this mess. This might be the only way I can know if the Wolf Tribe is in danger.

‘What was your perception of the Wolf Tribe before the occurring incidents?’

Out of 150 total answers, the majority of them were neutral; 25 were ‘positive’; 28 were ‘negative’; 8 were ‘overly positive’; and 6 were ‘overly negative’.

‘What is your perception of the Wolf Tribe now; is the tribe innocent?’

26 votes were ‘wary; neutral’; 14 were ‘wary; innocent’; 17 were ‘positive; innocent’; 30 were ‘wary; guilty’; 53 were ‘negative; guilty’; 10 were ‘overly negative; guilty’. There were no overly positive votes.

This is not looking good so far.

‘Is Chi in danger; should it be protected? Should the Lion Tribe still host events such as Speedorz Racing or the Chi Market?’

‘Chi is in danger; withhold it at all costs’, 45 votes; ‘Chi is in danger; make smaller and safer events’, 54 votes; ‘Chi is for everyone; continue everything as is’, 18 votes; 33 votes were null.

From the corner of a discreet alleyway, an orange chunk of fur wiggles in every way possible, and it shakes to the sides while vibrating. Whenever I get closer, even if it’s just a tiny bit, the fluff stops for a second– before returning to its funny dance.

Fluffy, moving… thing! I– I can’t take my eyes off it!

My legs project forwards and I pounce onto the worm-looking object; my teeth pierce it, but it screams and turns around in a violent curve, throwing me onto the ground. The paperwork slips off my hands, making a high pitched noise. My survey is all over the ground.

“Argh! Hey…!”, it shouts.

As I begin to observe what’s in front of me, while dealing with mild pain from the thud, the ‘thing’ walks up to me, tapping their toes on the ground!

Everything is a bit blurry…