His still form lay quietly amongst the tall grasses of the pridal lands, the golden color of the blades contrasting sharply with the blue of his full mane and dark body. He breathed slowly and heavily, but he wasn't asleep, no, just laying there. Waiting for something to happen. Something to change.
It had become almost routine now; in the early dawn he would wake and venture down to a small pool and have his morning drink and reflection. After that he would take to his duties as a hunter if they were required, where the most action was for his uneventful life, though now it was a ho-hum task and he took his time when he did this. If he was successful he would visit his mother, bracing himself for her forgetful nature - sometimes she knew him, sometimes she didn't - , and tell her the tale of his hunt, staying with her until the first startlight. Then he would go back to his own dwelling and lay until sleep took him.
If he was not successful, he ended up here, in the same spot. A patch of grass was missing from the ground in the shape of his body, the dirt hallowed out into a shallow pit, the bottom matted thinly with his own fur. Here he would daydream about anything that came to mind, sometimes so far as to have whole adventures in his head, even though he had never left the pride in all his life. Other times the clouds took him as their slave, made him think of shapes like he and his mother used to when he was a cub. Then he would grow tired and sad, and abandon the game for a quiet walk through the grasses.
Teko was thinking now, of his parents and brothers, of the other pride members he vaguely knew, of the changes he knew would come, and he sorely wished he could be a part of some of it. Any of it. Even if it was only for a moment. A heavy sigh pushed from his lungs, blowing back the grass as he clawed at the dirt beneath his paws.
