The lion’s eyes would flutter open a number of hours later, the door still locked up tight and with more than a few scratches on it to indicate that he’d woken up before this and wanted out. “ugh, damn nights-agh!”
his throat clenched tight and immediatly he reached a clawed paw into to remove the obstruction, pulling a long strand of half digested and matted wool out, letting it fall to the ground with a disgusting “slorp”. Bellweather, one of the greatest criminals Zootopia had ever known, this was all that remained of her except a thick layer of health fat and some still undigested remains occupying the mayor’s plumped up belly.
And that taste....that flavour of meat, of fear still lingered in his mouth. He was empty now for the most part, ready to feed again.
Lionheart sighed, and then removed himself from the bed, maybe he should of listened when they told him this was a bad idea.
