ᴀɴɢᴇʟᴏ!'s Den

𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲 𝗩𝗶𝘃𝗶
𝗜 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘁𝗿𝘆.
════════════════════════════



𝙃𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙙, 𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙚. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬— 𝙃𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙛𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬. 𝙉𝙤 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙣𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚, 𝙣𝙤 𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠. 𝙔𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩, 𝘼 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙩’𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣, 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚, 𝙃𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩— 𝘼 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙯𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙖𝙠𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙡, 𝙏𝙤𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠, 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚: 𝙞𝙩 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙, 𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙜𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚. 𝘼 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙗𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧, 𝙈𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙗𝙮 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙪𝙗𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚, 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙖 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙬. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥, 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙫𝙖𝙨𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙥. 𝙉𝙤 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢—𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙙. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙙. 𝙄𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥, 𝙞𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙘𝙧𝙮, 𝙒𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙚. 𝙃𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙬𝙚— 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙬 𝙊𝙛 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢 𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙣— 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙘𝙞𝙧𝙘𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙪𝙣. 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨, 𝘼 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨. 𝙉𝙤 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨, 𝙣𝙤 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙—𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚, 𝘼 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙪𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙚. 𝙃𝙚 𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣, 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙙, 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙙, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙬—𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙙. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙃𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬.

════════════════════════════
( Check my lions description to see their lore, everyone has one — except the ones that are in breeding or giveaway den. )