I blinked up at him, unsure if I should say something. Did cubs usually introduce themselves? Before I could decide, Littletail flicked his ear toward another elder curled nearby. 

“Deafear,” he meowed, nudging the lions side. “Droppaw and Ambercub are here.” 

The tortoiseshell she-cat he prodded was striking, even as age dulled her once-vibrant pelt. Long, plush fur swirled with black, orange, and cream—like autumn leaves caught in a breeze. Bits of moss clung stubbornly to her flank, as if the nest she lay in had tried to claim her. But her eyes… they were the most vivid thing in the den: sharp, glowing orange, like twin flames burning low. 

She flicked her ear dismissively. “What? Speak up, old cat!” 

Littletail’s whiskers bristled. “I said Droppaw and Ambercub are here!” 

From the back of the den, another voice rumbled—deep, irritated. 

“Do you need to yell like that, Littletail?” 

The speaker was a tom with sleek white fur, his presence stark against the shadows. Jet-black ears flicked back as he pushed himself upright. Green eyes narrowed beneath a face crisscrossed with scars, the most prominent stretching jaggedly from the corner of his right eye to his cheek. Though softened by age, he still moved with dignity, like a lion in his twilight years. 

“Try talking to Deafear, Blackfoot!” Littletail snapped, tail lashing. 

“I’m deaf, not stupid,” Deafear grumbled, giving Littletail a sharp flick with her tail. 

I shuffled closer to Droppaw, heart pounding. The elders’ banter filled the den—loud and sharp-edged—but beneath it was something else. Something warm. Like siblings squabbling after sharing a nest for too long. The kind of sharpness that didn’t cut. 

The only elder who hadn’t joined the argument gave her head a slow shake. She was a sleek, pale grey she-cat, her fur still well-groomed despite her age. Her right eye was a deep, rich brown—sharp and focused. Her left eye, though, was clouded and sightless, a pale scar running from brow to cheek. 

I swallowed. Was that how she got her name? 

“Mousebrains,” she muttered under her breath. 

“Oneeye,” Droppaw greeted, whiskers twitching with amusement. “I see nothing’s changed.” 

Oneeye flicked her tail, brushing off the comment, but I caught the faintest tug of a smile at the corner of her mouth. 

“First time seeing elders, cub?” Blackfoot asked, turning his gaze on me. There was no mockery in his tone—just quiet curiosity. 

I straightened instinctively, suddenly aware of how small I must look among these scarred, seasoned warriors. 

“Y-yeah,” I mumbled. “They’re… louder than I expected.” 

To my surprise, Deafear let out a snort of laughter. “Louder and smarter. You’d do well to remember both.” 

I met her sharp orange gaze, and something settled in my chest. These lions weren’t soft, retired warriors clinging to old stories. They were weathered, scarred—but still standing. Still Sunpride. 

Maybe, if I listened closely enough, I’d learn how to stand like that, too. 

“Tsk, yeah, but deaf as a stone,” Littletail hissed, his tail lashing. 
His comment sparked another round of bickering—Deafear snapping something sharp while Blackfoot growled back, his ears flattening. Their voices overlapped, rumbling through the den like an approaching storm. 

Droppaw, unfazed, padded past them and pressed her nose to Oneeye's shoulder in greeting. 
“How are you, Oneeye?” she asked gently, ignoring the still-squabbling elders behind her. 

I hesitated before following, paws shuffling over the mossy floor. Up close, Oneeye seemed even older—her clouded eye dull in the dim light—but her good eye, rich brown and sharp, watched me with quiet amusement. 

I wanted to ask something. Maybe… maybe a story? 
My heart beat faster at the thought. cubs back at my old home whispered about elders' tales—of brave warriors, cunning foxes, and long-forgotten battles. 
Would Oneeye tell me one if I asked? 

Before I could find my voice, a blur of red fur burst into the den. 

“Hey! Tell a story, Oneeye!” 
The fluffy tom skidded to a halt beside her, nearly crashing into my side. His semi-long, fiery red fur fluffed out in all directions, giving him the look of a windswept fox. His white belly and tail tip stood out against his russet coat, and his bright green eyes—wide with excitement—flickered between me and Oneeye. His ears, slightly too big for his head, twitched constantly, like he was trying to catch every sound in camp at once. 

“Foxcub! Show respect for the elders!” 
Willowclaw’s voice called out. I turned and saw her walking over. 

Foxkit blinked at her, unbothered. “I am showing respect! I want to hear her story!” 

Oneeye let out a long, weary sigh, though her whiskers twitched with amusement. 
“Stars save me from loud cubs,” she muttered, then fixed Foxkit with a stern gaze. 
“If you can't wait patiently, I’ll tell you the story of how a fox kit lost his ears for being too noisy.” 

Foxkit’s eyes grew even wider, ears pinning back against his head. “You made that up!” 

“Did I?” Oneeye drawled, stretching out like a sun-warmed snake. “Ask Littletail how he lost his tail. Bet he’ll say it was a badger. But I remember a very loud cub who didn’t know when to hush.” 

Willowclaw shook her head. 
“I’m on my way out to find herbs. You need anything?” she asked. 

The elders shook their heads, and with that, she padded off again. 

Littletail—still growling at Deafear—caught the end of her words and flicked his short tail indignantly. 
“Mouse-dung! It was a badger, and you know it!” 

Oneeye chuckled, the sound low and scratchy. 
“Foxcub, Ambercub,” she murmured, ignoring Littletail's protests, “if you're both so eager for a story, sit down. I’ll tell you about the time Sunpride outsmarted a whole pack of African wild dogs. 
And mind you—it’s not one of those soft, nursery tales. This one’s got teeth.” 

I scrambled to sit, heart pounding with excitement, while Foxkit practically flung himself into place, tail curling over his paws. 

Even the arguing elders quieted—Blackfoot and Deafear exchanging glances before settling down, as if they, too, wanted to hear the story they’d surely heard countless times before.