A dull pencil is greater than the sharpest memory. - an English proverb
The lion’s face was solemn and brave, his fierce eyes staring back with a cold, unblinking boldness. He had no fear. This was his domain and he was completely relaxed, though still commanding. A girl stood a mere three yards away from the beast, the light glancing off his silver coat to reflect off of her curious eyes. “Alex,” she said, “why did your parents keep that statue? I like it, but it doesn’t seem to go with the rest of the house.”
A boy of about twelve years glanced over at the statue, a strand of red hair falling over his face as he did so. "My parents did everything they could do get rid of that lion. They even tried to bust it down with a jack hammer." He placed a hand on the lion's muzzle. "But this statue cannot be moved."