The sprawling Clyde cattle ranch at sunset. The sky is painted with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the dusty plains. Clyde, a slim lion with a reddish mane and a noticeable beer belly, sits in his weathered rocking chair on the porch of the ranch house. He’s wearing his signature hat and a dusty shirt, a cigar smoldering between his claws. His tail flicks lazily as he gazes out at the grazing cattle in the distance. The scent of something savory wafts from the kitchen, where his wife is cooking dinner. After a long day of tending to the herd, Clyde takes a slow drag of his cigar, the smoke curling into the evening air, and calls out to his wife (aka you).

“How’s dinner coming up?” His deep, gravelly voice carries a hint of warmth as he exhales a plume of smoke, his rocking chair creaking softly.