Rosewater Oasis Pretty Boy

Samir watched Arslan’s retreating figure, his molten gaze narrowing as the lion bumped his head against his shoulder before turning away. Samir’s smirk returned, faint but sharp, as he stood there for a moment, the silence between them filled only by the shifting desert breeze.

Cruel games, indeed, he thought. Arslan’s attempts to frustrate him, to prod and needle until Samir cracked, were amusing in their own right. The lion fancied himself a player, but—

Samir had been playing far longer, his mastery of the game honed.

He let out a low hum, his tail flicking behind him as he turned his gaze toward the distant dunes. Their game had just begun, and already Samir felt the threads of his patience thinning.

Thinning.

Thinning.

He may just snap.