For Rocky. he was just a cub who was deserted...a very long time ago and found by old lady right at her doorstep. Hard to believe, but yet, it happened. Rocky is a male lion having brown skin and a black mane starting to develop, he wore a green collar with dark gray spikes poking out, he got along perfectly with dogs. For reasons unknown. People were worried about a lion living in a old ladies house and feared for their lives, when in actualalitiy they didn't have to worry about a domesticated lion who was friendly...until they put him in danger.

  
"Rooocckky." The old lady groaned. "Kitties...come here."

   Rocky and the cats shared a look. A look hat they both knew her time was coming. Death was in the air...matter of speaking. They all gathered around the old lady. Her grandson John Bershall is coming to visit her today, and he may  not be there for her last breath. The old lady patted her cats. Rocky's body is shaking.She has had him for quite awhile.

"...Rocky..." She croaked. "Run."

  He didn't understand why she said it. But she said it. And his lion-gearing natural senses kicked in. He ran througgh the door busting a hole through, generally it could have been impossible but the strangth and sheer power his paws had developed aided in breaking a gaping hole in it. The Cats followed suit as The Old Lady passed away.  Anyone can wonder how long it has been for surviving on cat food or dog food, Rocky is the only one who knew. He knew he had to get home...Where-ever home is at.

  His light green eyes shined through as the scene became black.