There was a lot that Yezekael had yet to learn, but he thought he understood, for the most part, the workings of his home. He knew nothing outside of the death that lingered always in the air, nothing outside of the pain he tended to see in lions' eyes so he imagined that he had to understand at least that. He had nothing to compare it to, no past experiences that could tell him that this wasn't how life was everywhere, so he would make do with simply accepting the fact.
He was under no illusions that he might one day fall ill, just like all the others around him had, or would. It had become an expectation in life, one that drove him to be more determined to make the most out of whatever health he had for however long it would last. He wanted to run and jump and fall, because he knew that it was altogether too possible that he might not be able to tomorrow.
But that, of course, was what made it beautiful. The fact that it could be gone in an instance made his freedom now seem all the more important. That he could wake up with the dawn and play all day without feeling completely drained was like a small wonder in and of itself, so he made as much as he could out of it.
As with most days, the cub was out of his den before the sky had completely brightened, and found himself humming lightly as he made his way along a path, eyes bright and on the lookout for something to do.
