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Description
While I was drawing this, I certainly didn't have a background story. This was an old draw of an angry Kion. But I realize its similar to a part of short fanfic I made years ago. Hope you like it.
(I want to thank my friend Lilly, she is always giving me great advices to improve my art.
PD: perdon por no hacer el fuego como te sale a ti, estoy manco pa eso :,v)
ENGLISH:
“He saw himself in a place surrounded by fire, fighting with a group of lions with dark manes and torn bodies. In the dream, it did not seem abnormal to him that his enemies had no face, as if the abundant ash of the place turned into a darkness that trembled as if it wanted to leave, but that ash still remained close to their faces, covering their identities. Blood, reddish in color and shiny in appearance, burned his nostrils like brimstone, ran down his face and dripped across his cheeks. He kept battling with them and little by little he defeated each one, but this time Kion felt something different. He was enjoying that, but not because it was a victory, but because of the simple desire to want to kill them. He was enjoying a pleasure so pure and so typical of Scar, making them suffer before ending their lives. His face sometimes was his own, sometimes it was that of the evil tyrant, but that murderous smile was remnant on both faces.

One last lion remained.

Kion felt fury take over him and he no longer had possession of his body. His right paw braced and his mouth whispered a few words. From his paw to his arm, the darkness rose in rooted lines and consumed his arm. His left eye took on a single absolute color. The enemy attacked with everything, however, Kion was able to avoid it easily. He waited for that darkness, that power, to end its journey, to fulfill his entire body. Once it happened, he waited for the right opportunity. And when the feline showed tiredness, Kion clawed at its face.

At first, the lion seemed to have taken the blow with some resistance, for it backed away a little but still stood. The lion finally raised what until that moment had been covered by a blanket of darkness and that the wind was now in charge of showing, his face. Kion stood still for a moment that seemed eternal. That lion was very similar to him, with the same capuchin mane as his eyes, but he shared the features of his father and grandfather. Only an instant later Kion could see the wound he had done to him. Her gaze pierced him, and he felt as if the one he had just murdered was someone with whom he shared a family bond.

Something in him tore the smile from him and transfered pain with his eyes. Then the opponent's body fell to the ground, inert, lifeless. The lion wanted to get closer, he wanted to see her face one more moment to...”

SPANISH:
"Kion se vio a sí mismo en un lugar rodeado por el fuego, peleando con grupo de leones de melenas oscuras y cuerpos rasgados. En sueño no le pareció anormal que sus enemigos no tuvieran rostro, como si la ceniza abundante del lugar se volvía un oscuridad que temblaba como si se quisiera ir, pero que aún se mantenía cerca de sus rostros, cubriendo sus identidades. La sangre, de un color rojizo y de un aspecto brillante, quemaba sus fosas nasales como el azufre, bajaba de su rostro y goteaba a través de sus mejillas. Siguió batallando con ellos y poco a poco derroto a cada uno, pero en esta ocasión el sentía algo distinto. Kion gozaba de aquello, pero no porque fuera una victoria, sino por el simple deseo de querer asesinarlos. Estaba disfrutando con un placer tan puro y tan propio de Scar, haciéndolos sufrir antes de acabar con sus vidas, que al despertar dudo de conocerse a sí mismo. Su rostro a veces era de él, a veces era la del malvado tirano, pero aquella sonrisa asesina era remanente en ambas caras.
Quedaba un último león.
Kion sintió que el furor se apoderaba de él y ya no tenía posesión de su cuerpo. Su zarpa derecha se preparó y su boca susurro algunas palabras. Desde su zarpa hasta su brazo, la oscuridad ascendía en líneas enraizadas y consumía su brazo. Su ojo izquierdo tomo un solo color absoluto. El enemigo atacó con todo, no obstante, Kion pudo evitarlo fácilmente. Espero a que aquella oscuridad, aquel poder, finalizara su viaje. Una vez que ocurrió, esperó la oportunidad correcta. Y cuando el felino mostró cansancio, Kion le soltó un zarpazo un rostro.
Al principio, el león parecía había haber tomado el golpe con cierta resistencia, pues retrocedió un poco pero aún se mantenía en pie. El león por fin levantó lo que hasta ese momento había estado cubierto por una manta de oscuridad y que el viento ahora se encargaba de mostrar, su rostro. Kion quedo quieto por un momento que pareció eterno. Aquél león era muy parecido a él, con la melena del mismo capuchino que sus ojos, pero que compartía las facciones de su padre y de su abuelo. Sólo un instante después Kion pudo ver la herida que le había hecho. Su mirada lo atravesó, y el sintió como si al que acababa de asesinar era alguien con quien compartia un lazo familiar.

Algo en él le arranco la sonrisa y le tradujo dolor con la mirada. Entonces el cuerpo del oponente cayó al suelo, inerte, sin vida. El león tuvo el deseo de acercarse, quería ver su rostro un momento más para..."

Description
While I was drawing this, I certainly didn't have a background story. This was an old draw of an angry Kion. But I realize its similar to a part of short fanfic I made years ago. Hope you like it.
(I want to thank my friend Lilly, she is always giving me great advices to improve my art.
PD: perdon por no hacer el fuego como te sale a ti, estoy manco pa eso :,v)
ENGLISH:
“He saw himself in a place surrounded by fire, fighting with a group of lions with dark manes and torn bodies. In the dream, it did not seem abnormal to him that his enemies had no face, as if the abundant ash of the place turned into a darkness that trembled as if it wanted to leave, but that ash still remained close to their faces, covering their identities. Blood, reddish in color and shiny in appearance, burned his nostrils like brimstone, ran down his face and dripped across his cheeks. He kept battling with them and little by little he defeated each one, but this time Kion felt something different. He was enjoying that, but not because it was a victory, but because of the simple desire to want to kill them. He was enjoying a pleasure so pure and so typical of Scar, making them suffer before ending their lives. His face sometimes was his own, sometimes it was that of the evil tyrant, but that murderous smile was remnant on both faces.

One last lion remained.

Kion felt fury take over him and he no longer had possession of his body. His right paw braced and his mouth whispered a few words. From his paw to his arm, the darkness rose in rooted lines and consumed his arm. His left eye took on a single absolute color. The enemy attacked with everything, however, Kion was able to avoid it easily. He waited for that darkness, that power, to end its journey, to fulfill his entire body. Once it happened, he waited for the right opportunity. And when the feline showed tiredness, Kion clawed at its face.

At first, the lion seemed to have taken the blow with some resistance, for it backed away a little but still stood. The lion finally raised what until that moment had been covered by a blanket of darkness and that the wind was now in charge of showing, his face. Kion stood still for a moment that seemed eternal. That lion was very similar to him, with the same capuchin mane as his eyes, but he shared the features of his father and grandfather. Only an instant later Kion could see the wound he had done to him. Her gaze pierced him, and he felt as if the one he had just murdered was someone with whom he shared a family bond.

Something in him tore the smile from him and transfered pain with his eyes. Then the opponent's body fell to the ground, inert, lifeless. The lion wanted to get closer, he wanted to see her face one more moment to...”

SPANISH:
"Kion se vio a sí mismo en un lugar rodeado por el fuego, peleando con grupo de leones de melenas oscuras y cuerpos rasgados. En sueño no le pareció anormal que sus enemigos no tuvieran rostro, como si la ceniza abundante del lugar se volvía un oscuridad que temblaba como si se quisiera ir, pero que aún se mantenía cerca de sus rostros, cubriendo sus identidades. La sangre, de un color rojizo y de un aspecto brillante, quemaba sus fosas nasales como el azufre, bajaba de su rostro y goteaba a través de sus mejillas. Siguió batallando con ellos y poco a poco derroto a cada uno, pero en esta ocasión el sentía algo distinto. Kion gozaba de aquello, pero no porque fuera una victoria, sino por el simple deseo de querer asesinarlos. Estaba disfrutando con un placer tan puro y tan propio de Scar, haciéndolos sufrir antes de acabar con sus vidas, que al despertar dudo de conocerse a sí mismo. Su rostro a veces era de él, a veces era la del malvado tirano, pero aquella sonrisa asesina era remanente en ambas caras.
Quedaba un último león.
Kion sintió que el furor se apoderaba de él y ya no tenía posesión de su cuerpo. Su zarpa derecha se preparó y su boca susurro algunas palabras. Desde su zarpa hasta su brazo, la oscuridad ascendía en líneas enraizadas y consumía su brazo. Su ojo izquierdo tomo un solo color absoluto. El enemigo atacó con todo, no obstante, Kion pudo evitarlo fácilmente. Espero a que aquella oscuridad, aquel poder, finalizara su viaje. Una vez que ocurrió, esperó la oportunidad correcta. Y cuando el felino mostró cansancio, Kion le soltó un zarpazo un rostro.
Al principio, el león parecía había haber tomado el golpe con cierta resistencia, pues retrocedió un poco pero aún se mantenía en pie. El león por fin levantó lo que hasta ese momento había estado cubierto por una manta de oscuridad y que el viento ahora se encargaba de mostrar, su rostro. Kion quedo quieto por un momento que pareció eterno. Aquél león era muy parecido a él, con la melena del mismo capuchino que sus ojos, pero que compartía las facciones de su padre y de su abuelo. Sólo un instante después Kion pudo ver la herida que le había hecho. Su mirada lo atravesó, y el sintió como si al que acababa de asesinar era alguien con quien compartia un lazo familiar.

Algo en él le arranco la sonrisa y le tradujo dolor con la mirada. Entonces el cuerpo del oponente cayó al suelo, inerte, sin vida. El león tuvo el deseo de acercarse, quería ver su rostro un momento más para..."