The aged Violent Thunder Lion, deposed from its throne, must have watched the clan members who were fawning over the new Lion King with a similar sense of resentment.
That was what the Elder Chieftain thought, saying nothing. An aging chieftain criticizing their new leader, who was worshipped by the clan members as much as the Mother Goddess herself, wouldn't make him live any longer. His only options were to remain silent in a corner or live out his days in seclusion.
[Anyway, resistance is futile. Acceptance isn't so bad either.]
Maintaining a self-deprecating mindset, a smile forced its way onto his face, tinged with bitterness.
His mood was a bleak pit of despair. The noise gradually lowered, disappearing. The laughing men and women around him quieted and moved aside to create a passageway. Young footsteps echoed off the marble floor, the center of power was shifting towards the old lion.
