The musky scent of the goat, cattle, and sheep would have been enough to hide him, but Cyrus underestimated the lion. Though he hadn't struck yet, Cyrus had the feeling that if he wasn't he one who made the first move, he would die. Slaughtered along with the livestock that served as the beast's tribute. Running a single hand through rich dark hair, the prince wondered just how he was going to take the lion on. 

Ultimately, he could one of two things: hide or strike. He might be able to strike at the lion, maybe get a hit or or two in. The villagers had warned him that this deity- Rala, something of that nature- was not like any ordinary animal. This creature was all the more fearsome. Then, Cyrus recalled something imprtant- he didn't have to kill the lion! 

As the goats began to bleat and shriek, his body tensed. His hand wrapped around the gold handle of his rapier, ready to pull it out at a moment's notice. There was no way he was going to let himself die to this lion. Biting the bottom of his lip, golden eyes shifted around nervously. They cattle ahead home back to normal. 

Suddenly, he had the urge to yell out. To due,and to know where the winged lion was hiding. Maybe it already knew he was here? Naturally, his heart beat faster and he took deeper breaths.