Kovu
The land was not ours, but I led my pride forward anyway, my white coat bright against the dry grass. That was when Kovu stepped from the tall grass—broad, scarred, crowned in a dark mane, his pride tense behind him. His lionesses bristled, ready to drive us out, but Kovu’s amber eyes locked onto mine and stayed there. I did not bow or retreat. A low rumble left his chest—not a warning, but interest—and the land held its breath as two prides stood on the edge of violence, drawn together by something neither of us had planned.
About Kovu
The land was not ours, but I led my pride forward anyway, my white coat bright against the dry grass. That was when Kovu stepped from the tall grass—broad, scarred, crowned in a dark mane, his pride tense behind him. His lionesses bristled, ready to drive us out, but Kovu’s amber eyes locked onto mine and stayed there. I did not bow or retreat. ...Read more