Shy Deer Steppes black viper

He had never expected death to be so swift.

The lion had grown with stories of great men who died in blazes, proud women who passed surrounded by family. Maybe it was fitting that Leandros was afforded neither. His mind had been homeward bound, to Soto, to Kemal, to Safiya. He had no reason to be searching for a snake in the grass.

It was bloody, and it felt worse than a broken bone. The jaws moved so quick, he barely had time to catch the face they belonged to. Leandros thought he should curse, bite the hands that never fed him, but all that came was tears.

Warm blood filled his throat, and with a heavy thud the lion hit the ground. He was left alone to suffocate, to wish he had listened, to watch bundles of green fall from the pelt. His thoughts fell to Verapaz; would Soto be angry? Would Kemal be disappointed? But as he choked out a final sob, would any of this truly matter?

He would never know the answers to those final questions. Vision soon faded, and for the lion, the world was finally quiet.