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He walked and he watched. Most days he saw nothing at all. Sometimes he was able to observe other creatures at work, at play and everything in between. He never ceased to watch them while he could, always seeking to understand why they did the strange things they did.

Even so, it never made sense to the black lion with the green mane. So he continued watching in hopes that it would.

There was a noise. It had the rhythm of footsteps, but very heavy ones. Meramo looked around, searching for the origin of the sound. It was, oddly enough, not a very difficult search. Most creatures the lion encountered seemed to be trying to hide, though most of the time he could not understand their reasons why.

This one was different. And in more ways than the fact that it was not trying to conceal itself. Intensely red, well, that was nothing new, he'd seen creatures of all types come in all colors. But the big black feathery things on the other's back, those were different. Without them, he would have said the other was a lion, male, like himself. Beyond that...he could not say. The feathers were something he'd only seen on avians until now.

The red lion had stopped and was looking at him. Perhaps this other would answer some of his questions. Namely, why did he have feathers when he was not a bird? This was the most pressing and perplexing of the questions churning through Meramo's mind.

Then the other spoke. A single word. Mortal. It was not something that he had encountered in most conversations overheard. It meant, from what the black lion could tell, one who died. Died, in the future tense, not the past. Why such a word should be necessary, he could not say.

But, as one who would one day die, the word did apply to Meramo himself. At least, that was his understanding.

So..."Yes," he replied.

There was a change in the other's expression. Meramo couldn't fathom what it was. This lion was not as expressive as others he had encountered in the past...not that it would have truly helped the black lion to understand what was going through the other's head.

Then the red lion spoke again. About a mortal realm forgetting its duty. And this lapse being a pity. Realm was...a place. So, a place of mortals. The world, as far as Meramo knew. But what duty a world could have, the lion was clueless when it came to imagining such a thing.

"I was unaware the world had such a thing as a duty," he said at last.

He considered the words carefully. That the world did not teach those who lived in it very well. It seemed an apt statement, from what he had observed. Certainly he had not been taught that much by the world, and no one he had encountered was that interested in answering his questions in such a way that he understood.

"No, it does not," Meramo agreed. Green eyes widened in surprise as roughly half the feathers resolved themselves into a very large black wing. Lions did not normally have wings - that the black lion knew for a fact. Otherwise he himself would have them as well. That meant the red lion was not an ordinary lion. But what he was...that Meramo could not accurately know.

"Wings," he said, stating the obvious. "Lions do not normally possess such additional limbs."

A god? Meramo had heard of such beings before, but they were mentioned in a manner that was...reverent. And seemed to imply that such powerful creatures did not walk the same earth as the rest. The "mortals," as the god had termed him. Why then did this red god walk here? The little Meramo had heard implied that they lived somewhere beyond the world.

Well, at least the revelation of the other's godhood did answer some of the black lion's earlier questions. In their place though, had risen twice as many more. Still, he could not argue with the other's statement about jewelry. It was a very useful term, seeming to relate to any and all adornment beyond fur on a lion.

"I have not," he replied.

Meramo blinked. He wasn't certain what he knew now that he hadn't before, save that gods existed in flesh and fur and feathers and walked the land. Which was something pertinent, though perhaps not relevant to daily life.

The red lion advised him to be respectful to any other gods he should meet. That was an odd term, respect. He had heard it used many times, in many different forms. It was one of those words whose meanings the black lion simply could not pin down, as the meaning seemed to vary from creature to creature and day to day. Such a strange thing to ask.

He did not know how to respond to this pair of statements. So, the lion simply said nothing, watching the god's movements.

Meramo watched the god take off into the bright blue sky. The wings were larger than he'd suspected, and quite powerful to lift a lion's body. This was certainly one of the strangest creatures he'd met in his life, and he wasn't entirely certain what to make of the entire encounter.

He would have to think it over in detail. For a long period of time.