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Tajan blinked sleep out of his eyes and yawned, wide and gaping. He had decided to sleep in late, but as soon as he awoke he felt a familiar excited feeling in the pit of his stomach. The full moon was always a cause for celebration in the Mwezi, and nights where the moon was at its roundest always had a fortuitous nature to them. Tonight, in particular, felt different.
The large, striped lion with the deep blue mane had had a vision, and he was sure of it. The strange pit in his stomach was different, this night, after the dream he just exited. You see, Tajan was a seer, one whose visions tended to come when he was unconscious. This was complicated, as weeding out what was a true sight and what was just a dream was quite sticky, but he felt fairly sure that whatever he'd just born witness to was significant.
The vision? It was simply a weird, beige sky, foregrounded by a crescent-shaped moon and deep gray, fluffy clouds. He had absolutely no idea what it meant, but he usually found out eventually.
Stepping outside of his den he sank into a deep and satisfying stretch before setting off for some water. Tajan didn't intend to look fate in the eyes tonight, but little did he know it was inevitable.
Once at the watering hole, he dipped his head low and started lapping up water, taking his time as his body shook the sleep from its crevices. The large lion was oblivious to what was going on around him, and thus didn't know that anyone else was approaching.