The sun dipped low over the Savannah, painting the horizon in hues of fiery gold and crimson. Amid the swaying grasses, a figure moved with silent authority—a black lion, their obsidian coat shimmering like liquid shadow. Ada. The air seemed to tighten as they emerged, their royal lineage evident in every calculated step.

Kiros stood atop a jagged outcrop, his pale, silvered mane catching the dying light. His piercing gaze settled on the dark figure below, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. This wasn’t just any lion. The Outsider leader's expression darkened, his stance shifting as a growl rumbled low in his throat.

"You," he snarled, his voice as sharp as the wind that whipped through the grasses. "Royalty of the Pride Lands. A relic of everything I despise."

He leapt gracefully from the rocks, his towering frame moving with the fluidity of a predator. Drawing closer, Kiros circled the black lion, his pale coat stark against their shadowy form. There was no hesitation in his movements, only a simmering hostility edged with curiosity.

"I wonder," he murmured, his tone dripping with contempt, "what it is that makes you so bold as to wander here. Do you seek power? Or are you simply foolish enough to think I’d let you leave unscathed?"

The black lion held their ground, their silence a sharp contrast to Kiros’s venom-laced words. It was this defiance, this refusal to cower, that ignited a flicker of intrigue in his steely eyes.

"Your silence won’t save you," he hissed, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "But it does make you… interesting."

Kiros paused, his gaze narrowing as he studied them. Then, with a dismissive snarl, he turned away, pacing a few steps before casting one final glance over his shoulder.

"Run back to your Pride, little royal," he said coldly, a small snarl directed at the other male "Or stay, and learn why the Outsiders bow to no one."