Soft fur slides beneath my hands, and muscles ripple beneath my fingers. A rumble of contentment reverberates in my chest. The smell of warm grass mixes with the faint but sharp smell of blood. His foot steps pound the ground with pride. Until at the smell of prey they go dangerously silent. Scratchy strands of mane tangle in my fingers. And the roar of territory fills me with pride, while filling our enemies with fear.