Climbing the rocky outcropping, the silvery white lion regained his footing on

the peak of his small mountain. Catching his breath, he surveyed the area; his body
aching to relax and soak away the day in a watering hole. Breeze blowing through
his mane, he closed his eyes, enjoying the momentary respite. Some distance away
among the blowing grass, he spotted a figure moving straight to the east, barely
making out a dark tail and green fur adorning it in the dying light of the sun.
Tracking the movement, he noted thicker trees and trampled terrain. Water!
He pounced happily down the rocks and stumbled on the last jump into the dirt.
Nobody near to see his mistake, he shook off the dust and made for the clearing.
Eager to relax, but curious about the mystery companion, he broke into a trot.
Equal parts unsure and headstrong, he arrived at the small pond slinking low,
peeking from the tall grass.
Before him, alone in the waxing red of dusk, rested a lioness unlike any hed
known from his home. He continued to watch her as she lay beside the water on
her side, muzzle smiling and calm, seeming to hear something he could not in the
wind, right eye closed and turned towards him. Closer now, he marveled at her
markings, large tufts of green and black against her smoky sides. The fur on her
back wispy and wild, shapely as a fire.
Enthralled, he made to step into the open, stopping suddenly as the water
became odd. Not well hidden, he stared in amazement as part of the pond split
off, flowing into the air through invisible piping. It formed a gentle creek upwards,
pouring down onto the lioness as she stood. Water flowing over her back and head,
she seemed at peace with the impossible sight, her eye catching the lion as he
watched, smile fading.
Moonlight bathing the land, the lion remembered this feeling. Surreal, he felt
hed been in this same position once as a kid, watching the lioness as young friends.
He remembered her fur covering her face in such a cute way. He remembered they
would sneak off to this same spot and watch the stars, talking about wants and
fears. He remembered being consumed by her thoughts and words, so badly
wanting her to think him her equal. He remembered asking her. He remembered
her dismissal. He didnt remember what became of his closest friend.
Angry, he left the watering hole. There was no place for him here, only an
ache in his head and embarrassment that he had forgotten. Nearly an hour later,
he still couldnt forget her smile in the dusk, frustrated that he couldnt piece it all
together. Why? Why would I have left? Thats not like me. He stopped, looking
into the sky for peace. If I felt this way Why dont I know her name? How could I
leave a friend like that? Head aching for answers, he laid on his stomach with head
in paws. I dont understand. But I need to.
With a jolt, he leapt towards his original destination, sprinting full stop and
praying he hadnt missed his chance. He skidded to a halt, dust kicking up around
him as he took in the sight of her still relaxing. Under the moon, she seemed to be
glowing before the lion before he realized she really was. She gave off a very
faint pink light, dominant in the nights darkness. Unwilling to leave it be he walked

up to her, muzzle to muzzle, and asked everything. He asked if she knew him, and
if she could forgive him for his abandonment. He begged her to catch up with him
again, to tell him everything that had changed with her. He noted her eye wasnt
merely closed, but shut completely.
After what seemed like minutes of questions, he stopped, aware she was now
smiling at him. She laughed at him gently, saying none of it was real: Merely a
story she gave him to leave her be. Confused, he asked how, or why it felt so real
to him, and she answered kindly about her power, apologizing for tricking him so.
He sat on his hindlegs, mulling over the incredulous story. She broke the
concentration, asking if hed like to forget the meeting that never happened,
promising complete erasure and that shed bother him no more. Unsure what to
believe, he was torn. It was never real. It would mean nothing to be rid of her,
theyd only just met. But he felt so close to the lioness. Closer than he knew he
could be to another. Was it better to keep the memory and live a lie that he was
happy before? Or could he simply erase the thought and continue as he was,
oblivious to the wonder before him?
Confident in his decision, he spoke: He would keep the sufferable dream.
Knowing she existed and was elsewhere far preferable to a world where he didnt
know beauty.
She giggled as she lay back, gazing at the stars without a response.
Confused, and unsure of what she thought, he lay at her side: Content gazing up as
he imagined they would have, so long ago.