So long had the lion-boy hung in the shadows, nary peeking from his hiding spots to glimpse the world outside.
He had heard things, many things.
How could he not?
War in the desert, dragons torching mountains, gods descending from the skies.
Even to his ears, the news reached, overheard in conversations as the swamp child lurked in the shadows, not wanting to give his presence away, not wanting to be seen or even known to be there.
He hid, sequestered himself away, because that was what he knew best.
Life left him distressed, so he did his very best to avoid it at all costs; munching on fruits and swamp leaves, hiding in the murky waters he knew so well now, and taking no action to do more than he must. Even in flood waters, he could find a way, he knew the safe zones from the rains that had come before, and he knew the trees that he could count on to hold him steady when all else failed.
But even still, he came when he heard the call. He came when he was summoned.
He owed those who governed this land that much at least.
He still hung to the back, never daring to step forward if he could avoid it. Copper eyes glanced over faces, some familiar, others not, but in the end, what difference did it make?
He still spoke not a word to any of them.
But that didn't mean that words didn't lurk under the surface, wanting to come forth, but never daring.
His heart ached as he saw the flower-girl's confusion and signs of pain. Something in him could not help but watch as another stepped forward, reminiscent of the wolf queen and speaking her name, proclaiming her lineage and the strength in her bones to the defense of the Court.
Something in him wanted to step forward with her, to toss his head back and stand as a lion on the battlefield, not a meek child.
But he didn't.
The only reaction the thin boy had at all (for even after all this time, he still wasn't a man) was to lift one foreleg when the King took his place, slipping the other forward so as to dip his forebody to the ground, and to bow his head with closed eyes.
He didn't speak, he couldn't find the strength, but the words hummed in the back of his mind nonetheless. Sang a distant song in the far-reaching corners of his mind as he turned to slink away back to the shadows, to be unseen, and hopefully, forgotten.
Long live the King.
