There once was this amazing lion. His mane glittered of gold and rays of sun. It danced about the wind whenever the breeze blew by. The pattern would be as if it was a field of golden wheat, ready to be harvested. The lion took pride in this amazing mane and had proven himself well worth it. He had many partners and cubs. Everyone feared him or adored him.
For years his mane shone like the brightest star in the night of the African savanna. Antelope would fear it as well as the laughing hienas. With a huge roar the mane world move making the sound ever more powerful. After the hunts his partners had, it would be coated in ruby red blood from the prey.
Then one day it all stopped, the mane did not shine and glimmer anymore. The lion, growing old, began to lose his confidence in himself. For he was nothing without his magical mane of glory. Who would now run away in fear from his roars, and who would catch his meals. His partners, even though few and old, still cared about him and adored him much more than ever before. They all knew he was still the magnificent lion that had the magical golden mane.
He knew his time had come, it was time to pass this glory onto an heir of the group. He chose one of his young sons to continue bringing joy and power to his group. His son, he knew, would make not only himself proud but everyone else who was near him. The magical mane shall live on from one generation to the next. Bringing happiness as well as fear to everyone around.
THE END.
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