[quote]Story 1:
Mufasa talks to Kiara: show
Mufasa talks to Kiara
“Father…Please, reconsider.” Kiara begged her dad, and King, Simba. He had just exiled her true love, Kovu. It did not matter if Kovu was an outsider, Kiara, the princess, loved him for who he was inside.
“You will not go anywhere without an escort from now on.” King Simba harshly told his young daughter. Kiara was shocked. She had just earned her freedom, and now in a blink of an eye, it was gone.
“No! That’s not-!” Kiara began her plea, but was shortly interrupted by her father.
“He used you to get to me!” Simba yelled at his daughter, his patience and temper growing thin. Kovu was exiled for ambushing Simba, the King.
“No! He loves me…for me!” Kiara yelled back. She knew the true side of Kovu…That he loved her.
“Because you are my daughter! You will not leave Pride Rock! You will stay where I can keep an eye on you…Away from him.” Simba snarled at his daughter, his temper broke. He never wanted to even see Kovu, let alone Kovu with his daughter.
“You don’t know him!” Kiara roared back. This surprised Simba. Kiara didn’t usually stand up for herself, but nonetheless, Simba thought he knew him, better than she did.
“I know that he’s following in Scar’s footprints….And I must follow my father’s.” Simba looked out towards the horizon, making sure that Kovu was gone.
“You will never be Mufasa!” Kiara yelled at her Dad. Simba stood there, stung. Ever since he was a young cub, he grew up, wanting to be like his father. Now, here he was, being told by his own daughter, that he was nothing like him. Kiara shook her head sadly, saddened and mad at everything. She ran to the Royal Den and cried. She was mentally distraught. Then, a beam of light and hope shone between the rocks. Kiara looked up. That was her escape. Escape from her father and find her Kovu. Kiara dug between the rocks and escaped. Kiara got a couple of paces away and looked back. She didn’t care how long it would take to find Kovu, she just knew that she needed to escape, otherwise she would start to go insane.
Kiara ran, without looking back. Night fell, and Kiara’s legs grew tired. Finally, she collapsed, tears pouring down her face. She was lost, confused, and upset. Now words could describe what she was going through. She looked up at the black sky. There, in the stars, laid the Great Kings of the Past. Kiara’s sadness turned into rage. Where was her Grandfather, Mufasa, when she needed him the most?
“Dad said you’d always be there for me!!!” Kiara stood up and yelled at the sky, letting her anger get the best of her. “But you’re not…Why” Kiara quietly questioned her Grandfather. She shook her head sadly, giving up. She laid down, rested her head in her paws, and sniffled.
“Kiara…” A dreamy, soft voice filled the air. Kiara looked up, confused. Her confusion than got turned into awe as she saw her Grandfather, Mufasa.
“Grandpa?” Kiara was not sure if she was hallucinating or if this was real.
“Kiara, you must find Kovu and take your place, in the great circle of life.” Mufasa told Kiara her destiny. Kiara shook her head, thinking that was impossible.
“I can’t go back. Dad exiled Kovu and the Outsiders are going to attack while Dad’s still weak…I know it.” Kiara complained to Mufasa. “I’m not brave…or strong…or smart.” She told him, heartbroken and close to tears.
“Kiara you are braver, stronger and smarter than you think you are. You must try to create peace between the Pride Landers and the Outsiders. Only you and Kovu can. Look inside yourself Kiara. You can do this. You are the Pride Landers only hope. Remember, you must try. You must try. Remember…” Mufasa encouraged his granddaughter as his cloud faded.
“Grandpa! Don’t leave!” Kiara ran after the cloud, hoping for more advice.
“Remember…” Mufasa faded away, as did his words. But, on Kiara’s heart, they would never fade.
“Don’t leave me…” Kiara begged, yet knew it was no use.
Kiara pondered the words of her Grandfather, but out of nowhere, Rafiki appeared.
“Ahhh…Kiara…You know what you must do…What is hindering you, child?” Rafiki asked.
“You’re right. I know what I have to do, but I don’t know how to create peace.” Kiara shed a single tear.
“Child. Mufasa knows you can do it. Only you can do it. You and you only. You and Kovu.” Rafiki offered guidance as he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“But, what if I fail?” Kiara asked, feeling hopeless.
“You will feel better about the failure if you try. Wouldn’t you feel terrible if you didn’t try and failed?” Rafiki asked, making a point.
“Yeah, I see your point…” Kiara admitted. “Hey! Look over there!” Kiara gestured to the other side of Rafiki using her paw. Rafiki quickly turned to see…nothing. Then, he noticed Kiara was running away.
“Hey! Where are you going?!” Rafiki yelled to Kiara.
“I’m going to find Kovu and save our home!” Kiara yelled back and continued her journey.
“Good! Go on, get outta here!!” Rafiki whooped excitedly.
-----------------------------
Mufasa smiled. “Do you think I did a good job?” Mufasa asked the Great Kings, Queens, and any royalty up there with him.
“Of course you did, son. I’m very proud of you.” Ahadi laid a paw of Mufasa’s shoulder. Mufasa smiled at his father.
“She has to create peace…It’s the Pride Lands only hope.” Late Queen Uru almost shed a tear at the thought of losing her home, grandson, and much more. Before, Ahadi could comfort his mate, a light-weight bird landed on her shoulder.
“Uru, Kiara is very smart, she will succeed.” The former majordomo, Zuzu, offered comfort and showed complete trust in Kiara.
“She will succeed…” The wind softly sang in Kiara’s ear. She smiled, knowing she was doing the right thing…Know she would succeed.
Story 2:
an inescapable fate: show
An Inescapable Fate
The two felines bounded around playfully, enjoying the pleasant air of the jungle, the greenery, and the presence of one another. Stealing through the night’s uncertainties, love was where they were. It was the perfect night, in the most beautiful place, but something was bothering the tawny lioness, something that she was putting off for as long as possible, wanting to enjoy what time they could. Nala walked alongside Simba, a broad smile playing across her face, a matching one on his, as the two occasionally shoved one another playfully. The darkness had settled in for the night, bringing a new kind of tranquility. The kind of tranquility Nala had only dreamt of since Scar had ascended the throne.
“Isn’t it great here, Nala? I tell you, this is the life. No rules, no responsibilities…” Simba said with a smile, trailing off.
“Yes, no rules or responsibilities…” Nala repeated softly. Simba must have been able to catch the implications of her tone, as his eyes widened and his smile faded.
“What?” he inquired.
“It is beautiful, Simba, but I just don’t understand. You’ve been alive for all this time. Why didn’t you come back? We’ve really needed you at home,” she explained.
“You don’t need me. No one does,” Simba returned harshly, stepping away from her and pouncing into a makeshift hammock of vines. Nala felt her temper rising as she watched him, but she kept her cool. He’d left when his father had died after all; she could certainly understand that it could be hard to imagine coming back.
“Of course we do. You’re the king,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“No, I’m not. Scar is. Maybe I was gonna be, but things change. He’s a better king than I could be anyway,” Simba argued, averting his gaze.
“Simba, he’s destroying the Pride Lands.”
“What?”
“The hyenas have taken over everything. There’s no food, and water becomes scarcer with each passing day. If you don’t do something now, the whole pride will starve and die from dehydration,” the lioness said firmly.
“If I don’t do something?”
“You’re the only one who can help us. You’re the rightful king,” she insisted.
“No, Nala. No I’m not. I can’t go back. It’s not my problem,” the golden male retorted, dropping down from his vine-hammock and striding away from her.
“You can’t be serious. What about your mother? She’ll die too,” Nala persisted, following after him, unable to believe what she was hearing. Was this lion really the Simba she’d known as a cub? She’d often dreamt of how things would have been different if he had been there during the years, but now, she was reassessing all of her perceptions of him. At the mention of his mother, Simba’s face contorted in pain.
“There’s nothing I can do, Nala, I’m not a miracle worker, and I can’t go back,” he replied with emphasis. The beige-coated lioness was getting all the more angry, and stopped moving, narrowing her eyes at him.
“What’s happened to you? You’re not the Simba I remember.”
“You’re right. I’m not. Now are you satisfied?”
“No. Just disappointed.”
“You’re starting to sound like my father.”
“Good. At least one of us does.”
Simba’s face registered total shock and anger at her comment, as he swiveled around to stare daggers at her.
“Listen, you think you can just show up and tell me how to live my life? You don’t even know what I’ve been through!” he raged.
“I would if you’d just tell me!” Nala attempted to persuade him.
“Forget it,” he barked, turning his back and stalking away. Anger boiled within the lioness, and she couldn’t just let this go. A growl escaped her throat, and Nala sprinted ahead of the lion, blocking his path.
“Don’t turn your back on me, Simba! This isn’t over! You’re one to talk about ‘what you’ve been through,’ if you won’t even tell me. You’re the one who doesn’t know what I’ve been through! What the pride has been through. What your mother has been through!”
“Yeah? Well, you’ve survived. And you can keep surviving without me,” he snarled.
“Simba…” Nala’s voice softened, “Would you be so cold if you had had to see what has become of your mother for all these years?”
“What are you talking about?” the true king asked with an exacerbated sigh, slamming a paw against the earth and causing some bugs to flee for their lives.
“Think about it Simba. Your father died, and for all these years, we thought you had died as well. Do you have any idea how it’s been for her, without the two of you?”
“I have thought about it. And trust me, it would be even harder on her if she knew the truth.”
“What?! How? What’s gotten into you?!” the lioness demanded.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Nala. You’d never understand. Just… Hakuna Matata,” he responded, consequently making Nala even more confused. She shook her head as Simba once again pushed past her and into the taller grasses.
“Hakuna Ma-what?”
“Look, sometimes, bad things happen, and there’s nothing you can do about it. So why worry?” he snarled. Nala’s jaw dropped at the boundless ridiculousness of his assessment of the situation. She couldn’t take much more of this and roared in frustration.
“How can you say that? You can do something about this,” she snapped, following his retreat yet again.
“If there was anything someone could do, you’d be doing it instead of bothering me. Now could you stop following me?” he scowled.
“No, I will not stop following you until you see sense! There is something I can do. I can get the rightful king to come back and fix the mess we’ve been left with,” she explained.
“Look, if I went back, it would change nothing.”
“Simba, Scar wants me to be his queen.”
For a brief moment, the male looked shocked and hurt, but the emotion was quickly replaced with his growing anger. “So accept his offer. As queen, you’d have the power to do whatever it is you want me to do.”
Nala’s heart stopped, her jaw dropped, and her paws suddenly felt like lead. Yes, they’d been arguing and things hadn’t been going well, but she’d always loved Simba, and she’d thought he’d felt the same way. They’d had a lovely evening together—before this—and she’d thought that she could get through to him and make the happiness they’d shared more permanent. And now, here he was, suggesting that she accept Scar’s proposal.
“How could you say that?” she wondered, aghast.
“Well, would you rather stay out here with me?” he asked, suddenly seeming hopeful. That just angered Nala even more.
“Maybe Scar’s the better king, after all. At least he didn’t ditch the pride—and I’ll never abandon them either. Maybe you don’t care about us, but I do. I won’t run away. If you won’t be king, then I’ll just have to be the lion Mufasa wanted you to be. You’re nothing like your father,” she retorted, much more calmly than seemed possible, and twisted around through the scratchy grass to make her way home.
“Take that back!” Simba bellowed, parting the sea of grass to be the one blocking her now. She narrowed her eyes at him and swished her tail.
“Move. I’m done talking to you.”
“No. You take it back.”
“I’ll take it back when you take your rightful place in the Circle of Life,” she answered flatly.
“I already have. This is my place, and nothing can change that,” he snarled.
“Well then tell me why and I’ll leave you alone,” the lioness pressed.
“Even if I were to go back to Pride Rock, nothing would change. Scar would still be the king, and it wouldn’t improve anything. You can’t change the past,” he mumbled sadly.
“You keep saying that. It sounds to me like you just don’t want to take responsibility.”
“Well of course I don’t! Who would want to take responsibility for killing his father?” Simba blurted out angrily. Nala gasped, her eyes going wide.
“For what?” she breathed, aghast.
“There, I said it. Are you happy? I killed my father, and that’s why I can’t go back. I’d just have to be killed and you’d still be in the same situation as you were before you found me out here.”
“You’re a murderer… and a deserter… Simba how could you do this to us? We’ve been lost without Mufasa!” she snarled, her anger reaching a new height, her claws coming unsheathed. Before he could answer she was roaring again, “I loved you! I trusted you! You always said you wanted to be king, but to kill your father from the greed? And then bail on us from the guilt? Or did Scar find you and chase you away for your crimes? How was it even physically possible for a cub to kill Mufasa?!”
“Scar did chase me away for my crimes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilt. It was a stampede, I caused it to kill him, but it was an accident,” Simba countered.
Normally, Nala would be more rational. She’d think things through and come to the most logical explanation and not do anything rash. However, this was an extreme circumstance. She’d been fighting with her “best friend”—and she’d thought he was her love, too—for quite a long time now. He’d admitted to killing his father, he’d been harsh with her, he’d told her to marry his uncle, and he’d basically said that he didn’t care if she, or his mother for that matter, died in the hell they’d found themselves in since Mufasa’s death. All of her pain and suffering for all these years had been wrought at his paws.
“It’s all your fault! You did this to us, you are the one who doomed us. And to think we all blamed Scar! All along he was trying his best to do the right thing! You monster!” she roared, swiping him with her claws.
“Nala, calm down. It’s not how it looks, I swear it was an accident!” Simba tried to convince her, but Nala was having none of it.
“Why should I believe you? You’re just trying to save your own skin, just like you were doing when you came to this forsaken jungle!” she countered, striking him with her other paw. Simba took a few steps back.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Nala,” he tried again. This time, however, she didn’t respond, she just continued slashing at him. At first, he didn’t fight back, but as more and more of his blood began to spill, he lashed out, biting her foreleg as it connected with his fur and flesh. She yowled in pain and struck him across the top of the head, nicking his left eye with a claw and causing it to become bloodshot.
With a roar of agony, Simba lunged at the lioness, causing the duo to tumble and roll about, snapping and slashing at one another, no longer thinking rationally, just trying to get the upper hand. Simba had done little in the way of improving his battling skills out here in the jungle, whereas Nala had been trained to hunt during a drought. The struggle was therefore laughably one-sided. The male was above Nala, and went for her throat. A swift kick from her hindpaws to his stomach and lower body turned the tides, allowing her to flip him over and hold him down.
She held his forelegs down to the ground and thrust her fangs towards his throat. Panic-stricken and desperate, the male responded by biting her right ankle, forcing her to loosen her grip and free his left paw. He slashed at her face, catching her cheek, and getting a harsher slash across his own face from her. He pushed against her, and the rolling ball of feline fury resumed motion. The duo rolled uncomfortably over twigs and brush, along with the occasional rock, scattering the wildlife around them as they went.
Soon they were positioned adjacent to the river; Simba’s head moving over the bank and hovering a few inches above the roaring waters. That’s when his face lit up with the realization that this fight was going to be to the death if something didn’t change soon. He placed his paws against Nala’s chest, claws sheathed, in an attempt to peacefully push her off of himself.
“Nala, I’m sorry. Don’t you think this has gone on long enough? If there’s any way I can make up for what I’ve done, I will, just give me a chance,” he pleaded.
She just growled and snapped at him. He kept trying to push the lioness—and himself, by extension—away from the water, which resulted in her pushing him closer towards it. The wet bank was hindering his efforts, sliding the male closer to the water. Nala couldn’t think, but she could taste victory and justice, and she could feel him struggling still, and so she couldn’t give up. She positioned her hindlegs against Simba’s rump and pushed roughly with them, letting go with her front paws at the same time in order to push him into the water and flip backwards to safety herself.
The creamy lioness landed, panting, on her paws, and watched the golden and red shape trail down the river, colliding with a few rocks and painting the water a red as it carried him away. For a moment, she felt triumphant. She’d beaten him, and had dealt justice for Mufasa’s death. But no matter what he had done, that shape going down the river—that was her Simba, and she had done this to him. Her hasty actions were starting to catch up to her rational mind now that the heat of the moment was dissipating thanks to the confrontation being over.
“Oh no… Simba…” she muttered, running along the river, trying to catch up to him. “I should have talked to him more, listened, let him explain his side… what have I done…?” Her body was still powerful and expedient, but Simba had done some damage that was now slowing her pursuit of him. She knew she could never be as fast as the current, but she ran along all the same, desperate to make things right.
“Simba! I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking clearly! Please hang on! Just hang on, Simba!” she shouted, but she couldn’t tell if he was still breathing. Her hatred for his actions had now switched onto herself for her own actions, and left her with an emptier feeling than she could ever have imagined. At last, she noticed that Simba had been caught on a fallen tree and wasn’t being pulled along anymore.
“Simba, please be okay, I didn’t mean to do this…” she breathed, pouncing up onto the tree and carefully moving to where he lay. She pawed him, looked at his face… but it was clear that he was gone. She’d hurt him pretty badly, but it was obvious that the male had died from drowning. Nala’s eyes filled with tears as she looked down at that face, one she’d known so well, and one she’d loved dearly.
“Oh Simba… why couldn’t you have just come home… you didn’t need to die…”
Unable to bear staying here, the lioness composed herself and carefully made her way back across the log and to the riverbank. There was only one choice left. She had to go back to the Pride Lands and give them what she’d just deprived them of. She had to take her place in the Circle of Life. And though she knew the truth, knew Scar was not to blame, she’d keep it to herself upon her return. Simba had been right—everything was that much harder knowing he’d been alive and why he hadn’t come back. It was better just to let the lionesses assume that Scar was the reason the lands were in decay, and to just do her part to make life easier on them in any way possible. Her duty was to her pride, as it always had been. Even so, she didn’t go looking for the warthog, deciding to spare Simba’s friends, for the sake of his memory. He may not have been as good of a lion as she’d thought in her youth, but that didn’t necessarily mean he had been evil or cruel. She just wished she’d been able to speak with him calmly, or that maybe he’d told her about Mufasa’s death before they’d begun fighting.
But it was too late now, and there was no going back. From the moment the stampede had begun, Simba’s fate had become inescapable.
Story 3:
Brothers: show
Brothers
It’s strange how in certain moments, you become so focused on what’s in front of you that the rest of the world fades away. I didn’t register the sound of the stampede below, although by all accounts it must have been deafening. Didn’t process the smell or even the look of it; dark and undefined in the distance, flowing more like a liquid than a mass exodus of burly, ungainly creatures.
No, all that I knew was the feeling of paws in mine, and the weight of a shared past bearing down on me.
******
We are teenagers, and I wonder which of us our father loves more. I know that Mufasa is many things that I am not. Strong, confident. Wise, they call him, beyond his years. But I have my own assets. Cunning, ambition. Things that I don’t think our father sees. But I will prove to him that I am worthy. I told Mufasa this once. He chuckled, then grew serious, perhaps because of that all-important wisdom. He lectured me about how our father loves us both.
He always does tend to lecture.
******
We are adults, and Ahadi proclaims Mufasa as the new king. I don’t attend my own brother’s coronation. I confronted Ahadi about it the night before. It wasn’t about Mufasa receiving the throne. That was Mufasa’s birthright. I wanted my birthright, something much more poignant: the approval of a father. But my own father couldn’t look me in the eye. He was probably afraid that if he did, he would see what was burgeoning behind them.
It was never lost on me that Mufasa shared his fathers’ eyes. I was alien, even within my own family.
**********
We are young, and it is night. Myself a mere cub and Mufasa not much older, neither of us yet jaded by the world around us.
I hesitate at the edge of the river. A fallen tree trunk, perhaps twenty feet long and a foot wide, connects one side to the other. “C’mon, Taka!” Mufasa urges, already nearly to the other side. I peek down at the river below, but in the dark all I can see is an inky void. I’ve crossed the trunk two times before to go to our grove, but this is the first night crossing. A stone’s throw away, a copse of Acacia trees leans to in the gentle breeze.
I edge out onto the trunk, inch by inch, paw by paw. The trunk is round and hard to see by starlight, so I dig my claws into it to keep a grip. “Taka, I’ll be king by the time you make it over here!” calls Mufasa from the opposite riverbank. I cringe: I hate disappointing my big brother. I try to hurry up, and my paw reaches out and finds nothing but air, and before I know it I’m slipping, desperately swiping at the log . I manage to sink my forepaws’ claws into the side of the log, legs dangling inches above the water. I can feel them losing purchase, and I feel the vibrations as my brother dashes across the log to help me. I stare at his form, a silhouette in the dark, but I can’t hold on any longer. I lose my grip just before he can grab me, I can just make out the pure terror in his eyes.
The water rushes up to greet me, and crushes the air out of my lungs. It is frigid, and it’s all I can do to thrust my head above water before the current drags me back down. I feel helpless, the eddies buffeting against the sandy banks, trying to find my way out until I feel something clamp firmly onto my nape and drag me into the warm air.
The next thing I remember is Mufasa’s voice, though I don’t recall what he was saying. The words aren’t important. I know how he feels then, and how I feel. The look on his face when I slipped from the log told the whole story. Told the way Mufasa would help me to grow, the way he would stay by me when the animus inside me grew. Told the way he would treat Nala, and treat his entire kingdom.
What did it tell about me?
***********
The same wild, desperate fear was in Mufasa’s eyes then. I was sure of it; they were only inches from my own. His fear was not only for himself but for me, and for the parts of me that would die along with him. The embers, beaten and forlorn but still smoldering, that were Taka. “Long Live the King,” I breathed, closing my paws around his and pulling him up from the ledge.
Story 4:
Old Buddy: show
Old Buddy
Simba ran towards Rafiki's tree as fast as he could. This time around, he really couldn't care less about just what the hippos were telling the crocodiles just because one got perhaps a little bit too close to the other. All the king cared about was that he needed to be somewhere else, and because of the two river dwelling.... idiots, he could easily be too late. He had promised to be there in the morning, and it was already past the sunset. That is too say, he didn't know yet if he should be worried or not, but he still couldn't help but do so. He would much rather be worried over nothing than the other way around.
For as far as he knew, something was seriously wrong with Timon.
The large Baobab finally penetrated the darkness Simba spotted it on the horizon and bolted the last of the distance as quickly as his legs could carry him. Reaching the base of the behemoth of a tree, the lion hardly hesitated before jumping and scampering up the trunk, something he would never have done under normal circumstances.
“Timon? Timon? Where are you?”
A quiet cough was soon followed by a weak voice that could only belong to the meerkat that he knew so well. “I'm over here buddy.”
His head instantly turning towards the direction of Timon's voice, Simba rushed past the assorted gourds and powders in order to lie down next to his life friend. “Timon! How are you feeling?”
The meerkat was lying on a small raised platform of bark where Rafiki would mix his various concoctions, visibly very weak and incredibly ill.
Another cough. “Uncle Timon isn't doing too well, kiddo. That crazy monkey is out of ideas already.”
Simba shook his head. “No! Rafiki will know what to do! Whatever he will need, we can get it. I don't care how rare it is or how far it is-”
“Listen, buddy...”
“-I will send the lionesses. Even the ex-Outlanders, they can help too-”
“buddy...”
“-heck, I will go myself! I can let Kiara and Kovu run the place while I'll be gone. You don't need to worry Timon-”
“Simba...”
The king was turning hysterical. “Don't you worry, Timon! Everything will be okay! I'm here for you!”
The meerkat only shook his head sadly. “You won't need to do that, kiddo.”
Simba hesitated, his hopes rising. “Wh-what do you mean..?”
Timon lifted himself up in order to look at Simba in the eye, even though it took most of his energy to do so. “Simba, buddy, I don't know how to tell you this, so here it goes...” He placed his hands on Simba's nose. “I'm dying, Simba.”
The lion's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't believe what he just heard. It couldn't be true! It simply couldn't! He can't go through this again! “It's not true, Timon!” he argued, as though somehow he could convince the meerkat to the contrary. “You said you'll always be there for me! Remember? That night in the jungle shortly after you and Pumbaa found me? What happened to 'best of friends 'till the end, huh?”
Timon just look back at him with sad eyes. “This is the end, Simba. You need to start letting me go. I... I won't be around for much longer.”
Simba shook his head furiously. “No, Timon! I can't do that! I can't!” His shoulders started to shake as he began to finally truly realize what was going on. “I lost my dad once before,” he whimpered quietly, feeling very vulnerable again, remembering what it was like to lose Mufasa, compounded by what was happening to Timon. “I can't go through that again. Please don't go, Timon! Please don't go!”
In reply, the meerkat wrapped his arms around the lion's nose. “Come on now, buddy! Didn't you forget about Hakuna Matata? 'It means no worries for the rest of your days!' Don't feel bad for me kiddo! I lived my life to the fullest! I mean, look at it this way: How many meerkats found a warthog and together move to a new home, only to find a lion cub, raise him all alone, and see him rise up to become the best king in the world? Life was good to me, and seriously, what more can a guy want?”
After some more coughing, Timon resumed trying to calm Simba down. “I know I might not exactly be in the best of positions to say this, but Simba... try not to feel bad for me. Do I want to die? Well, no. But I am not going towards it afraid either. I don't want you to fall apart just because I'll be gone. Do you think I'll let you do that? The same lion who managed to overcome the murder of his own father despite believing for his entire childhood that he was responsible?”
However, as much as Timon was trying to help, it wasn't working. The meerkat suddenly found himself being quietly growled at by the lion.
“Timon, stop that!” Simba hissed. “You know that I can't go through this again! I just can't, don't you get it? You can't go! I won't let you!”
Normally, having an emotional lion growl at him would have sent Timon running for his life. Now, he instead waited patiently for Simba to quiet down. “Simba, buddy, let me show you something.” Lifting the lion's head up, Timon pointed up at a gap in the leaves above them to where the stars shone. “Someone once told me that a bunch of dead guys are watching us from up there. I didn't believe them. In fact, I laughed at them, even though it hurt them. After all, what mook would make that up?”
Noticing Simba's fall back towards him, Timon continued, lying back down on the platform because of his fatigue. “But then I also realized... What do I actually know? For all I can tell, maybe that... well, nonsense... what if it's right? Ad after hearing what you told me... well, maybe you are right about what's up there.”
Lifting his head to look directly at the pained lion, Timon managed to smile. “I won't be gone at all, Simba. I'll just be... a little bit further away. Don't you worry about me. I'll be there, watching you... spreading Hakuna Matata with the others. Hey, perhaps I might be able to get your dad to join in as well!”
To Timon's delight, this brought a slight smile to Simba's face. “You see? There's nothing to worry about.” He lay back down and closed his eyes. The talk left him far more tired than he expected it would. “You just let an old meerkat rest for a bit, old buddy! And I don't want to hear any crying or complaining!”
“But-”
“But nothing! Just let me rest... just for a little bit.”
Simba watched as his friend slowly breathed. “Okay, Timon. I'll let you rest...” Placing himself in a more comfortable position, as well as letting the meerkat to use his paw as a warm blanket, the lion didn't know when he fell asleep, only knowing that he did when he woke up from the morning suns' rays penetrating the tree's canopy and hitting his eyes. Carefully lifting his paws, he smiled as he saw Timon still there on the platform where he last left his friend.
His smile vanished when something seemed wrong.
Brining his head closer in order to see better, Simba carefully prodded his friend. “Timon? Wake up Timon... Why... why aren't you breathing?” His lower lip started to quiver as he feared the worst. “Timon? Timon! Timon!”
Recoiling back in shock and fear, Simba's eyes tore around the tree. “Rafiki? Where are you? I need you! Timon, you just stay here, everything will be okay!” Scampering up to get help, the lion tripped over his own legs and fell down heavily, his head coming down next to the still body of his meerkat friend and adoptive father.
Unable to deny the truth any longer, Simba stopped trying to struggle with himself in order to get back up. Rolling onto his front, he realized with dread...
“I didn't even get to say goodbye...”
Okay, so it's four stories. Still twice as more as last time around!
Voting will end on Monday, July 28th! I will be on vacation then, so I don't know if I will be able to post the winner topic then, but I will try.
Voting rules are the usual: Don't vote for yourself, and don't vote for a story that you simply know was written by a friend. Don't ask others to vote for your story either. Read each one carefully and give all the stories the same consideration before you make your decision.
Enough talk. Get voting!
