Lord Lion-o looked out through his window and out over the hush of New Thundera. The rows of homes were laid down before him, spread out in front of the lair obediently. The curtains of his window billowed across the side of the panel much like a calming ocean. The velvety fabric licked the wall of the room, then was half drawn back out the window, only to be swept inwards again.

Another breeze ventured into the room, and Lion-o sucked the cold night air in through his nostrils, feeling guilty about this small pleasure, one which he knew a certain friend of his would never again partake of.

It was due to the tensions of this and the previous events of the week that Lion-o had remained awake. Not even the young woman who lay in his bed had been able to relieve the pressures he had been under. Looking at her now, he felt guilty about that, too, but only for a moment. He had to stop blaming himself for Pumyra's death. He knew there were others in the lair that were feeling the same way he was.

He gazed upon the young woman sleeping in his bed, her nude form sparsely covered by a soft white sheet. The mostly red mane swirled over her shoulder, covering her exposed breasts. He smiled in spite of the events that had occurred, wanting to slip under the sheet next to her. The role he played now seemed to prevent any such event from happening.

Distraction came soon after in a sparkling of blue light in front of him. As much as he wanted to keep his concentration on that which was materializing before him, he turned his attention once again to the breezy evening. Neither he nor the apparition spoke for nearly an hour. Lion-o simply took in the view from the window, waiting for the spirit to leave or for day to break. Finally, as a result of the attacks from time and want of sleep, he asked it. "Why did you forsake me?"

"You needed time to rule on your own. I couldn't interfere."

"So then you're the one keeping the sword from helping us." accused Lion-o.

The pause was lengthy. "The sword was...a crutch. For you to use until you could stand on your own."

His fist banged the sill of the window. "A crutch! Then you lied to me! The sword's power isn't limitless."

"No, it isn't. My power fed the sword. But even I can not keep it's power from fading. It will always draw from the members of the Thundercats, but without a strong host, it can not be at it's full potential."

Lion-o shook his head. "You couldn't spare enough power to warn me about Pumyra? Or Cheetara and Sumik?"

"Don't you understand? There must be a host. I have served the sword many lifetimes already. The Eye of Thundera chose a new host -- but Cheetara's condition prevented her from being suitable. Pumyra was an excellent choice. Her strength will help to guide the sword."

"It's barbaric." spat Lion-o.

"It's our culture. It's what we are. If you don't agree, cast away the Eye into the deepest part of outer space." There was silence before Jaga continued. "This will be the last time you see me before your own journey to the astral world. That will not be for quite a long time. She will be your voyeur now. Before I take my leave, I must warn you of one last thing."

"Go ahead. I'm listening." replied the lord, still refusing to turn around. He had been a young man when last he spoke with Jaga, and now didn't want the jaguar to see the worry lines, the golden streaks in his fiery beard, the furrowed brow that replaced his youthful looks so long ago. Deep down, Lion-o feared that Jaga would and could see past the features that masked the small, scared boy who had left Thundera so many years before.

"Cheetara is looking for her parents. She will ask for your help, to use the sword and book of omens. You must not let her. If she finds out, it may have devastating repercussions."

"You're asking me to refuse her of her true identity? To keep the *truth* from a Thundercat?"

"Yes. To protect her. You must not let anyone know of her heritage, not even yourself."

"When can I allow her to know who she is?"

"Never."

As the spirit faded away, Lion-o thought of the grim task before him. He had a feeling it would be quite a disappointment for her, but somehow, Jaga's advice was always the right advice, and Lion-o planned to follow these final instructions, no matter how bitter he had been towards the man moments ago.

A hand slid around his waist in a fluid fashion, snaking it's way around his flesh, until the woman who had been in his bed was pressed against his back. He let the sensation of having her so near to him sink in, then slowly turned to face her. The moons' reflections caressed her skin, offering a most pleasing view to the worn lord. His lips parted to speak, but were quickly silenced by hers. Lips locked, she drew him to the bed, stripping what little clothing he still had on from him.

The young woman pushed him down into the bed, then settled in next to him, pulling the sheets around them. As she adjusted the coverings, he fluffed a pillow by smashing his balled up fist into it repeatedly. Once he had finally positioned himself in the center of the mattress, he pulled her close to him. She cuddled against his body, finally resting her head atop his chest. His heartbeat proved a natural lullaby, and soon she entered a state of slumber.

Lion-o ran his fingers through her mane as she entered into a world of dreams, her hands loosening the grip on him. It was only a few moments before his eyelids drooped and his world became darkened.

They slept soundly, as sleep had been a luxury as of late, and he would find himself in just this position when he awoke the next morning: Laying comfortably on his back with Wilykit nestled closely to him.