In the rocky hills surrounding Wandering Battle City, a dense mist was rolling into the sparse forest, covering the leaves in a fine dew. The surrounding woods were quiet, devoid of even the usual sounds of birds or small woodland creatures.
Sleeping peacefully in the middle of a large clearing with great, growling snores lay the reason for the dead silence of this particular area: an enormous tiger covered in thick, white fur, with black feathered wings growing out from its back.
It rolled around lazily as it dozed, sleeping off a recent meal. The wildlife inhabiting the rolling hills were plentiful and full of spiritual energy, and it was never in want of food nor entertainment, relishing in the hunt even against the relatively weaker demonic beasts that populated its territory.
Indeed, one could say life for this beast was good.
