Far north, where the wind howled like a lonely wolf and the sun barely touched the horizon, there lived a polar bear named Nanuk . Unlike the others of his kind, Nanuk did not hunt seals on the ice or

Deep in the golden grasses of the Savannah, there lived a young lion named Kofi—who couldn’t roar. His siblings teased him. The hyenas mocked him. Even the mice didn’t flinch when he tried to sound fierce.

There is a city where the dead do not rot. Vorthas stands on the edge of a black ocean, its streets slick with perpetual rain, its buildings stained with salt and something darker. The dead here are taken

In the metropolis of Origami Peak, nothing was ever quite what it seemed. The buildings were made of folded paper—not metaphorically, but literally. Towering pagodas of rice-paper, bridges woven from