The rat king lounged on the throne like a despot. Shirtless, the king revealed light-colored and short fur that did nothing to hide the chiseled abdominal and torso muscles. Its bare feet pointed out at the other end of a pair of dark leather pants.
Out of all the rats and ratlings they had seen so far, the rat king was at the peak. It was the apex of rat evolution. It was evident just from standing in the room with it. Zach and the others could feel its hungry eyes roving over their bodies as it slowly stood up.
The only thing rat-like about the king was its rat head and its pink tail. Other than those two aspects, it was like standing in front of a seasoned hunter.
The rat king carried himself with a confidence and determination that none of the other ratlings had. It was like a wolf in a pack of sheep. And it was a wolf that used a spear.
