Am I a Merciful Being

A slosh of the ocean's spit spilled over into the lion's cave.

He roared at the Earth-baby's spit up And stretched his neck, his head all circle-motion.

The roar shook the water till it crawled backwards into its limitless self.

_I'll never leave here. I'll never let anything in._ The lion shook his orange mane and rolled onto his back to sprawl against his stony floor.

Suddenly, he heard a wheezing hiss from a corner of his cave.

_What could it be?!_ he wondered. His criss-cross, matted fur dragged as he rolled over back onto his feet.

A fish, shaking and thrashing and convulsing, lay helpless. He had been dragged in by the wave of the ocean.

The lion heard his tummy grumble. _Food has come to me!_ But the hissing became less and the fish felt dry.

*What if I die here?*

*I will die here.*

Lion looked upon him and considered him. _I should hunt. I am a noble and great creature. And this pitiful fish is stuck._ But what he really needed to ask himself was _Am I a merciful being?_