The prince's eyes flashed with confusion. The lion wished to be free? The almighty deity of Hamza? He had wings tough as dragon hide and the strength of a demon! What more freedom could he possibly receive? If Cyrus was a winged lion, he would be more free than he could even think about being while a human. Hastily, he nodded. 

While his hand was placed on the lion's head, he couldn't help but notice how soft it was, even after being worn by the desert. As their minds became one, Cyrus thought of a story he was taught as a child. 

He was sitting in an adobe room full of light. He was listening to his grandmother speak, her golden eyes glowing with wisdom. Once, she told him, there was an owl and a fox. Fox spent all his time foraging and hunting while he could, because he was on the ground. Owl, on the other hand, has wings. His life was easy. He spent his time dancing with the moon, napping on clouds, and sipping starlight. 'What a waste!' Fox said. 'If I had wings, I would be doing things to help the desert!" 

So one day, Owl stopped at an oasis and took a drink of water. Fox came and swallowed him whole. Owl had clusmy feet, and couldnt run away. He took owl's wings, and he could fly. But once he saw how fun and easy it was to fly, he forgot about helping the desert. He spend his time sleeping in clouds and drinking from rainbows, until he forgot how to walk. There was a thunderstorm one day, and fox, who had forgotten the ground, died in the sky...

It was a sad story, but had a good moral. A sad one. And right now, he could feel a forlorn sadness coming from the lion, Ralarulash. Mindlessly, the stunning prince repeated words he did not know, in a language he didn't understand.