Early spring, February.
Although the cold winter had passed and the earth still retained a little chill, the tender green grass had already begun to sprout.
The season of revival had arrived, and the creatures of the mountains, which had been hibernating in their dens, were gradually awakening.
It was already sunset.
Da Huang, ravished by hunger, was leaping in the jungle, where countless shadows of trees passed by, but his originally strong limbs were weak and feeble now.
He was the king of the mountain forest on the West Ridge, and within this region, all the beasts would tremble and bow their heads in his presence.
But even the king of the mountains, without a filled belly, could not avoid feeling lightheaded.
Da Huang, who had been starving all winter, had just woken up a few days ago.
However, he might have woken up a bit too early, it seemed that his usual prey was still hibernating in their lairs. After wandering around, he didn't even see a single rabbit.
