Inside it was dark, hot, and damp.  The air smelled of blood and meat.

“I need your help,” the man said.

From deep inside, two eyes shone with a green light.  “The offering is made,” the eyes whispered.  “Plead with us.”

“The boy in the front row… he looks sick.”

“Slow and weak.  Ours soon,” then, Purr.

“Please, spare him.”

The eyes closed slowly.

“Very well.  We shall not hunt him.  But the hour draws nearer when our jaws close around your neck.”

“Thank you,” the man said.  He pulled his head out of the lion’s mouth.  The audience cheered.