A lion lay asleep in the forest, his great head resting on his paws.

A tiny mouse marched up to him and squeaked out, "Great lion - I too am a lion, allow me to grow a mane!"

The lion slept on, unaware.

Undeterred, the mouse shrieked indignantly, "Hypocrisy! Who are you to decide who can grow a mane?"

The lion slept on, unaware.

Spitting and seething in impotent rage, the mouse squealed, "I am a lion and you are not! How dare you grow a mane? You have no leg to stand on! I and my fellow mousefolk demand to have your mane!"

The lion slept on, unaware.

Losing her temper, the tiny mouse let out a demented screech and began to pull futilely at the lion's mane with her tiny paws.

Attracted by the noise, the other animals of the forest watched this strange scene from a distance, shaking their heads sadly before moving on. An owl with a cruelly curved beak took particular interest, staying longer than the others.

Much later, the lion awoke from his rest, yawning widely. There was no sign that the mouse was ever there.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Scarlatan, in the year 949 AF.