A thin, tired, and obviously emotionally worn lioness stumbled her way into the Swamplands. Her brown coat instantly blended in with the lands around her, unless she got near a large patch of mossy trees and shrubs. Her worn body made it's way towards a large stump, a hard spot up above the soft ground that she was standing upon.
Next to her was a very obviously seen silver cub. The cub was a bit more lithe then the average lion cub, but it was hard to tell if he was not a lion cub, as one would assume with a lion adult next to it. It wormed it's way between it's mother's legs, little bits of whimpering and complaining heard from it's mouth.
Once the brown lioness had reached the stump, she quickly swirled around, snatched up her cub, and set him onto the stump, where the whining had begun to slow. She slumped against the stump, her form obviously exhaused from their trek they had taken.
