The Mighty Beast

The sun blazed down from the cloudless sky and scorched the grassy plains. There stood a mighty beast, flexing it’s claws into the dry dirt. It stamped its feet. Its golden mane rippled majestically in the wind. Its enormous muscles bulged as it stood, ever ready to pounce. The beast raised its lips, revealing deathly fangs, still wet with blood. Its paw could crush a man’s leg; its claws could strip the bark from a tree. The beast’s tail twitched, anticipating battle. Its roar can be heard from miles away.
Yes, here stood the mighty lion; henceforth none but the lion’s beloved stood therein.


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