Lion Head Mesa all caps

*bowls him ur way* 

he'd been found just as sweet unconscious had begun to tempt him, curled into furs, in the privacy of his domicile that, he knew, could at any point be invaded by royal whims - as it had been now, a servant howling a call out the courtyard.

he fixed his tousled fur, scented his paws with spring sprouts, but couldn't shoo away the bone-deep tired what made his strut less jaunty, the tinkling of his dogtag mirthless.

neb gucci entered the throne room.

mah holy lord. he bent his head, long ears folding on the floor. to the fur he went with a sense of we've been here before.

but not me and you.

he sat, long tail naturally curling about paws, slight hunch to his shoulders.

let the girl-king speak her wants.