Kefir.
He had once been a simpering mummy's boy, chubby and small - even as an adult - with a fear of the world that always kept him close to home. Close to his family. It had all changed one fateful day upon meeting a lioness, all dark red and strange markings with eyes as bright as blue stars. She had taught him that he needed to learn to take care of himself. That if he did he would be able to protect those he held dear. She'd even taught him a thing or two about fighting - though she had beaten him with ease. And he had been young and impressionable and he'd never met anyone like her before.
And, eventually, he had decided to put his visions to use at last. They had always been strong and vivid and he had always feared them. Until the day he realised he could use them to help him track down the female who had stolen his heart. A childish crush, of course, but she was the first female he'd ever noticed and she had been in danger.
He had crossed the lands in search of her, unknowing of the dangers that lurked close by. And, before he knew what was happening, he was being ambushed, pinned to the ground, threatened. He'd been resistant at first. They had stripped him of his name and called him dhlurr. A slave. He could still recall the exhaustion and fear and he had never recovered, not even weeks later when he had been blackmailed into helping the lions he had grown to hate so desperately. He couldn't trust anyone and yet he had his visions and passed on what he saw. He hated to think of who else he might be hurting by giving the lions and their pack of dogs the information that he did.
Now, instead of round and healthy, Kefir was thin, scarred and tired. His face looked hollow, his mane ragged, and some of the scars still looked as if they were having trouble healing. He walked stiffly as he moved down to the water's edge and lowered his head to drink.
His name meant 'baby lion'. But now he was being forced to grow up and in a place which went against everything he believed in.
