A world divided into mortality and seemingly immortality. Everyone knew mythical beast existed, even if they tried to push it from their minds. It was mostly read in fairy tales to help their children sleep at night, but Iris knew there was something far greater out there. Aslan knew the humans were bad, atleast, that's all he remembered. The centuries of being hunted, of all the bloodshed. He hadn't met a human in two hundred years, and he had no plans to. It's almost funny in the way fate works.