Writing Contest #2 Voting!

[Azdgari]

Welcome to MLK's second writing contest! Thanks a lot to everyone who got in on it; it took a little while but we got a pretty good crop! There are seven entries. The voting will last for one week. This means you have plenty of time to read all these stories and pick your favorite. There are a lot of entries and a lot of reading to do, so don't feel intimidated. Take your time!

Entry #1: Run
[quote]“Run to the water

And find me there”

So had spoken Simba’s dreams for many days prior to his moment of action.

Rarely had he believed in superstition, save for the stories of the Great Kings – which he recently discovered were true. But an old adage that one’s dreams could actually speak to oneself? He never thought much of it.

But his dreams held some merit, he thought. In earlier days, not long after his father’s death, Mufasa would speak to him. “You have forgotten me,” his dream-father would say. “You have forgotten who you are and so have forgotten me.”

And behold what had resulted: just the previous evening, Mufasa had appeared to Simba in the clouds, with the help of the shaman Rafiki. There he spoke the same words his embodiment had spoken in his son’s dreams.

Simba realized it was probably a fair idea to listen to his dreams from then on.

However, the words of his most recent slumber troubled him. “Run to the water,” he repeated. “Water…”

It appeared as though he was doing the exact opposite of that which his dream had instructed. The lush, green jungle landscape had soon given way to a grassier plains terrain, and now to arid desert. His paws were dirtied under the dust and sand as an unforgiving sun beat down on his tepid frame. The lion slowed his gait across the sandy topography, glancing about him.

He recalled these grounds, his recollections blinking in his conscious like a series of murals on a great tree. How long it had been since he had been here – not since Scar’s hyenas chased him away from the Pridelands, and since Timon and Pumbaa had rescued from a desiccated death. Presently he felt not unlike he did that very day – hot, exhausted, anxious.

Though in the previous instance he had felt unwanted. Now he knew better.

Simba wished he could stop completely and could rest for a while, even in the rays of the formidable star above him, but Scar would not simply wait for him to get a good night’s rest. He would press on.

“Run to the water

And find me there

Burnt to the core but not broken.”

The words resonated in his head again as he pondered their meaning. They came from a voice unlike any he had previously heard – deep but angelic, as if from the Great Kings themselves. Not a being from this plane and at the same time very much a familiar creature. Both amongst the living and amongst the spirits.

There was water in the Pridelands, he thought. “Scarce, but there.”

Besides, his instructions were to return to his homeland. This supposed quest for water could wait.

Fleetingly he thought of Nala, and even of Timon and Pumbaa, back in the jungle. He had not even said goodbye… or told them where he was going…

On he walked.

Simba did not know what to expect when he returned to the Pridelands, and that alone frightened him. He knew his mother was still alive – Nala had told him that – and that Scar was still in power. He would have to combat his uncle for the throne, and while he knew Scar to be sorely lacking in strength, as he would often say, “as far as brains go, I’ve got the lion’s share.” After many seasons apart, he did not know how Scar’s mind worked.

“Oh desert, speak to my heart,” whispered the once-future king, gaze downcast. “Tell your deepest secrets unknown to me.”

“I will not be moved,” came a voice within his head.

The voice was sudden and unexpected, and not unlike the one of his dreams.

“Wh-wha…” he wondered aloud.

Simba felt an impulsive urge to sprint forward again, and did so, half out of frustration and half out of surprise. Someone had spoken to him, the voice in his dreams… he was sure of it.

The lion careened across the dusty valley, kicking up a thick cloud of sand behind him which all but masked him. Midday was approaching, and no breeze came as refuge from the sun’s blistering rays. All Simba could do was run, minding the occasional cracks in the surface of the ground. There was no one around him, and this likely would stay stagnant for quite a while.

He was completely aware of the possibility that he had imagined the voice, and he was unsure where it could have come from otherwise. It was not his father’s, nor Rafiki’s, nor anyone else he knew personally.

His steps began to feel lighter against the ground, which to Simba meant that he must be nearing the Pridelands – the soil was a bit softer rather than rough, and thus would provide sanctuary for his tired paws. He smelled the air, itself a grainy substance which was bereft of any sort of real olfactory trigger. However, he could also tell that the air was clearer here, meaning – hopefully – that he was nearer the Pridelands and further from the thick-aired desert.

“Run to the water

And find me there

Burnt to the core but not broken.”

No sooner had the words replayed in his mind that he cursed himself for bringing them up again. Alas, he was still confused. What did it mean?

Another saying in the dream, lesser but still prevalent, came to mind:

“Don’t try to find the answer,” it said, “when there’s no question here.”

And that too puzzled Simba. Did that mean there was no reason for him to question things? That he was not supposed to question that which he had been sent to do?

Troubling times, these were, indeed.

After what felt like many cycles of the sun and moon, Simba could finally see Pride Rock in the distance – albeit quite far away, a tiny speck on the horizon.

“Run to the water… run…” repeated the voice within him.

But as Simba glanced around, he presently realized that there was no water to be found.

In fact, the Pridelands as he recalled them were nowhere to be found as well.

He had expected a greener sight, one with trees and the occasional savanna grass, and the waterhole, and plenty of herds grazing in its many fields. Instead he found none of this. Instead he found an arid wasteland, bereft of that which made it ‘home’ to begin with.

For the first time since he left the jungle, Simba was truly frightened.

And as he felt the unwelcoming chill of fear creep up his body, falling short of engulfing him completely, the voice spoke to him again, this time with new words:

“Brother, let your heart be wounded, and give no mercy to your fear. Run to the water, and find me there, burnt to the core but not broken.”

Simba shook his head in disgust. Not only was he hearing voices, but the voice told him to both be unafraid and to find something that was not there.

The prince pawed at the ground in frustration, turning to and fro as he attempted to muster up the courage to approach Pride Rock. He was alone, and felt weak by now, having run for what seemed like days.

But just as he was about to give up, about to turn back and forget about all that Nala and Rafiki had told him, something hit him – a wave of realization, splashing onto him in great currents. Understanding trickled into his mind, his head a well into which all flowed freely.

Around him he heard the sound of dripping water, flowing as if in a small stream or against the banks of a tiny pool. The sound filled his ears, a delicious cacophony that was a welcome departure from the calm solitude of the desert.

And he knew. He understood.

It was as if the earth was speaking to him. A disembodied voice that belonged not to a living or dead lion, but to something that was both alive and dead, not there and omnipresent. Nature itself had spoken to Simba – the grass and the trees and even the dusty ground of the Pridelands.

He understood their predicament. He had already seen what had happened to his homeland and could barely believe such a thing could occur.

But he had hope.

“Run to the water, and find me there… burnt to the core but not broken.”

Burnt… but not broken.

Suddenly Simba was filled with a hope and a determination unlike anything he had experienced in his life.

And he knew what must be done.

“Simba!” called a voice behind him. The lion snapped out of his trance, the sounds disappearing with it, as he whirled around to see Nala approach.

He understood. And he was not alone.

He would save the earth from its arid near-death. To Simba, it was as important as assuming the throne. His destiny.
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Entry #2: (untitled)
[quote]"Good! Go on! Get out of here!" Rafiki called.

I look back one last time. What's that feeling I feel? Excitement? Joy? Sadness?

I slow, and sit down where I was. Hakuna Matata means no worries. But my father called me. He said, "Remember,"

I know who I am. I'm Simba, rightful king of the Pridelands. So that's who I am. But do I have to go that way? My thought whirl around in my head. I can't do this! I was raised in the jungle! By a meerkat and a warthog! I can't fight! I never learned!

A sentence flies through my head. "You must take your place in the Circle of Life."

I have my place! It's in the jungle! It's been that way for years!

I pad back to my home. My real home. But there's something. Something pulls me back to the desert.

Soon, I'm running. I don't think that I'll make it through the desert, but what does it matter? I'm going home.

The trip is long. The desert is, well, deserted. There isn't water as far as I can see, and I wish I had taken a drink from that pool the monkey showed me.

But I kept going. On and on. No water is required, because I'm being pushed on. By a force. By my dad.

But the force doesn't last long. I begin to slow with tiredness. I'm parched, exhausted. I can't go on. Can I?

When I can't go any further, I stop. There's nothing in sight, and I'm kind of scared. What if I die before I make it? What if I'm not going in the right direction?

The force pushes me on, but I just can't go. I'm done. I'm out. I'm as good as dead.

I close my eyes, and I can't help but cry. I made it this far, and now I can't go on.

A figure is beside me. "Simba," it says.

"Go away," I sneer.

"Simba," it says again. I look up and see Nala. How did I not see her behind me? But it doesn't matter. If Nala can do it, so can I.

We run on. And on. And on. "There it is!" she yells.

The great rock appears over the horizon, and I leap for joy. I'm home! I made it[/quote]


Entry #3: Love Will Tear Us Apart
[quote]It was a vast desert. Sand filled the surrounding area, and an intense burst of heat always blew through the alright dusty air. I stood there, lurking behind a very large boulder.

I am a part of the soon-to-be outsiders, a pride put together to murder Simba, the king of pride rock. Eventually, things settled between us after the Great War. But I'm getting a bit ahead of myself.

Zira stood next to me. She was alarmed when she saw Simba coming, while she was out trying to find Nala, after being sent by Taka. I was with her, looking for Nala, when she suddenly started to run towards a large boulder, and yelled at me to come with her. I followed, the sand burning my paws with each step. Zira had only known Simba from descriptions from Taka, so when she saw him running across the Desert, she knew instantly it was him.

Simba came running by, leaving an intense sand cloud coming towards us, and swelling our lungs with sand. I fell in love with him instantly. He had a very long and luxiorious Mane, big muscular Biceps, and the most handsome face ever. His eyes almost seemed to sparkle, as he passed by me. Zira broke this thought by jumping from behind the rock, on top of the mighty king.

"Why hello Simba, I wasn't expecting you to be alive. Scar told me you were dead. I am your worst nightmare. I am the new queen of the pridelands, and Scar's lover," she said, with a mad glare in her eyes.

Simba wretched under the power of the muscular lioness Zira. She sunk her claws deep into her shoulders. A spine-tingling gring came across her face, and she suddenly started to laugh. She stared at Simba for a bit, helpless on the floor, bleeding. Then she suddenly raised her paw into the air, and made a huge scratch across his stomach.

I felt anger swelling up inside me, like a Baloon was infliting within my lungs. I was devoured by my instinct, and my first instinct was to attack.

I ran out from behind the rock, and clawed Zira right across the face. The impact threw her into the boulder, cracking it. Zira got up, an angry look on her face. I ran over to Simba, and stood above him.

"Get out of my way, stupid girl! Unless you want to become food for the Hyena's!" Zira said, with a mad glare in her eyes, and a crooked grin across her face.

"I will not let you hurt him any further!" I said, baring my teeth.

"You are a traitor. I will have you murdered when I get back to the pride." Zira said, running back to the outlanders.

I gave Simba a kind smile, and followed behind Zira at a distance. I thought I would have to confront my untimely fate, but it never happened. I guess Zira was to caught up in the death of her lover, that the thought to kill me never came across her mind. Or maybe it did, and she just didn't care enough to confront me about it.
Anyways, that was the time Simba, Zira, and I met. I guess I'll always just with in my own mind that I were Nala. Then maybe I would of been with the man of my dreams. But then I decided that it was better just to look at him from a distance. Because that's just fine, after all, I know someday that love will find a way.
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Entry #4: Remember
[quote]Simba glided across the desert dunes. His father's last spoken words to him still echoed in his mind. Remember. Simba looked ahead at the vast expanse if wavy dunes. The last time he crossed this place, he was a small cub running away from home, banished by Scar. Back then, he didn't care where he was going, nor did he pay attention to his surroundings. When he ran away, Simba wanted to forget everything, even die.

Now, he ran past the sand dunes, once again not looking at them. He didn't need to look. He knew the way. How, he wasn't sure, but Simba felt within himself that he was going in the right direction. As he ran, he wondered whether or not Mufasa himself was guiding him. Probably not. Simba thought as he ran. Mufasa wanted him to remember, but Simba still had doubts. Would his family accept him for what he has done? Or will they kick him right out again when they will find out that it was him who killed their beloved king?

Simba slowed down his running as uncertainty overtook him. He looked up at the blue sky. “How will they accept me, dad?” He shouted up at the sun. It did not reply. “What will happen once they know?” He looked down at the sandy ground beneath him as he stopped running altogether. The sand shifted slightly as it got blown around by the wind, and Simba looked back behind him. His tracks followed a straight line through the sand, and now Simba turned and followed them back. Back to the safety and comfort of Timon and Pumbaa. The duo most likely would not understand either, but at least they won't ask. They were most likely now with Nala doing somethi--

Simba stopped dead in his tracks. What would he tell Nala? What if he met that strange Rafiki again? How would he explain leaving, only to return again. He would have to confess to them. Fear gripped him, and once again, he turned back uncertainly. Slowly, he felt his eyes water up with tears. “I don't know what to do,” he muttered to himself. “Where can I go?”

Looking up again, Simba took a deep breath. “I don't know what to do, dad!” He cried out in desperation. “I can't go back! They won't understand!” He shook his head and lowered it back down. “But I want to remember, dad... I want to remember you, but I don't know if I can. The others... they will hate me.” He let out a frustrated breath. “They don't know that I killed you, dad!” He once again shouted at the sky. “What will mom think? Or Scar? He knows! He knew. That's why he banished me, dad! If it wasn't for me, non of this would've happed!”

Simba turned and followed his tracks back to the jungle. “Dad, if you can hear me,” he whispered, “I tried. I really did... but they can't know. Don't let mom know who killed you, dad.” His mind flashed back to Nala telling him how everyone thought that he was dead. “Don't tell mom that I survived,” he whispered. “Make something up... Don't tell he what I did.” He collapsed on the hot sand, drained of energy. “I'm sorry, dad!” He sobbed into his fur. “I'm sorry for what I did! But I can't go back!” As he lay on the ground, the wind picked up, blowing in the direction of his home.

Simba looked back, but shook his head violently. “I can't dad! I can't go back! Why won't you understand?” He cried out. “Do what you want,” he whispered, defeated. “Just know that I never wanted this to happen.”

Remember.

Simba took a deep breath and stood up. Forcing himself to move, he headed back to the jungle, using his tracks as a lifeline. And yet at the same time, the wind blew harder. Sand started covering up Simba's paw prints, only forcing the lion to walk faster. “I can't dad, and you know it!” He muttered under his breath as the wind forced him to duck his head back.

A strong gust tore through the sand dunes, causing Simba to lose his footing and fall. Getting up, he proceeded back. Now with his tracks gone, he relied on the dunes themselves to tell him which direction he was going. “You can give up, dad. I won't turn around!” He said. Still, the wind blew harder. Stopping, Simba stomped on the ground angrily. “Just leave me alone!” He shouted up at the sky. “Just leave me alone and be gone!” He lowered his head. “I want to go back. I really do. But, I can't,” Simba breathed out. “I want to remember. I want to face my past. But the others will not let me.” He breathed out, agitated. “Think if mom, dad!” He shouted. “Right now, she believes that you are dead, but so am I!” He glared at the sky, wanting it to go away. “What will she think when I come back and tell he who killed you! Let her be happy, dad! I will ruing her life if I go back and tell her!” He shouted. “And Nala too! When she finds out, she will know that I am a murderer!”

Once again, Simba stopped walking. “Do you hate them, dad?” He demanded. “You want me to go back as revenge, don't you? You hate mom because because she gave birth to your killer, don;t you? And you hate Nala because she was my friend?” Simba looked up. “Tell me the truth, dad! Do you hate them or not?” He bellowed.

Still, the skies did not answer. Taking it as a the finally straw, Simba shook his head and continued on his way back. “I'm not going to do it, dad. I won't hurt them anymore.” He said. “You can give up now.”

But instead of giving up, another gust of wind once again toppled Simba. The lion got up furiously. “You can't win this one, dad! I am not going to hurt mom or Nala! I am going to forget, because that will be the best for them!” The wind only blew stronger. Simba had to lay down in order to keep himself from getting battered away. “Just kill me then,” he breathed out. “I'm not turning around!”

Remember.

“No, dad!” Simba shouted. “I won't!” Even though his tear-stricken, closed eyes, the sandy wind stung. “I won't hurt them! I won't do what I did to you!”

Remember.

“No!” Simba tried to think of something else, but only saw himself sitting next to the waterhole, having a lesson with Mufasa. Immediately, his heart compressed with grief and anger. “I won't fall for it, dad! I won't! Just let me... just let me forget. Please.” He begged.

His imaginary father looked down at him. “Forger what?” he asked. Simba paused, for the voice sounded so real that he swore Mufasa was right next to him. But there was no possible way for that to happen.

“Forget everything. You, them, my past.” His imaginary self said. “Mom will kill me if I tell them that... that I killed you.” The imaginary Mufasa laughed.

“You? Killing me?” Again, Mufasa laughed, his entire body shaking. “Tell me, my son. If you killed me, who is sitting right here in front of you?”

Imaginary Simba shook his head. “You're not real! I killed you, which means that you can't be in front of me...”

Instead of replying, Mufasa shimmered and disappeared. Simba flashed back to the pool Rafiki showed him. You see: He lives in You. Again back at the waterhole, Simba didn't know what to say. Mufasa looked at him fondly. “You see son, no matter where I am, I will always be with you. For no matter what you do, I live in you. You see, Simba? You did not kill me. You are still alive, and through you, so am I.”

Simba looked up at Mufasa. “How will I explain this to the others, dad?” He asked. “You ma still be alive, but your body, it's still dead.”

Mufasa reached out and gave Simba a hug. “When you will be ready to truly understand, so will they.” He replied. Mufasa broke up his embrace with Simba and smiled. “Come, my son. Let us go home together.”

Simba smiled and nodded. “Alright dad.” He said. He got up and turned towards Priderock. Mufasa nodded, and lead the way. But as he started to take his first steps towards Priderock, he started to shimmer. Simba panicked. “Dad, wait! Where are you going! I need you!”

Mufasa's body vanished, but his presence remained. “It's alright, Simba. Go home. I'll be with you. Go home, believe, and most of all: remember.” Then his presence died, and Simba cried out in pain at the loss.

“Dad!”

Simba's head sprang up, but instead of being at the waterhole, he was still lying in the sand, surrounded by the featureless dunes. Was the entire thing imagined? Simba got up uncertainly, and was relieved not to have to fight the wind. He took a few cautions steps back to the jungle. “I don't know, dad,” He said, “That was very convincing, but I don't want to fall for it. I don't want to hurt them.”

Again, the wind picked up. But this time, unlike before, it felt warm and inviting.

Remember.

Simba looked back behind himself at the direction of Priderock. “What if I'm not ready?” He asked. At that moment, his head gave a sharp painful throb. Simba winced and placed a paw over where Rafiki had hit him. Lowering his paw, he looked back again. “They will understand when I will, right?” He asked. The air swirled around him as if in confirmation. “How will I know when I am ready?” Instead of answering, the wind gusted just enough to nudge him towards the Pridelands.

Simba got the hint and turned. Now thinking more clearly, he understood. He would have had to explain it either way. At least one way, the others might understand, and not turn against him. But that was the harder option. Simba turned to look back, uncertain. The wind blew again and he stumbled a few steps forwards.

Nodding, he turned towards his destiny and took a few steps towards it. “I hope you know what you're doing dad.” he said. “It's going to be hard.” The wind pushed him onward. Simba took a few more powerful steps forward before breaking into a full paced run. “I want you to know that I'm sorry dad!” He shouted as he ran. “But you never hated me for it, and I will trust you!”

Mid-stride, Simba lifted his head up high and let out a loud whoop of energy. “I'm going back!” he shouted. “I'm going to remember dad! I will remember!”

No matter what they say.[/quote]

Entry #5: The Desert's Warnings
[quote]He had been running for two days now, only stopping to rest or to get water and food. Simba was starting to feel it in his legs. He wanted to just stop and rest where he was right now, but he knew he couldn't. He had to make it back to the Pridelands and take back what is rightfully his. He had to put a stop to Scar's madness.

It was midday when he noticed a change. There was a nice breeze that blew across his face and he gladly welcomed it. It wasn't till a few minutes later that he realized that the breeze turned into a strong wind. He knew something was wrong so he stopped and looked around. That's when he saw the sandstorm coming his way. He was terrified at the sight. Simba knew he had two options; he could either keep running, or he could find somewhere to hide and wait it out. Both seemed very risky to him so he chose to do the one thing he was good at since the death of his father, he ran.

Simba slowly opened his eyes, the bright light painful to him. He carefully sat up, feeling the sore muscles in his leg and not wanting to make it hurt more. He noticed the trees around him and realized that he was in an oasis. What happened? How did I get here? “You passed out in the sandstorm. I carried you here.” Simba got up with speed and faced the direction of the voice. “Who's there?” Simba did not want to fight, not with the way he was feeling, but he would if he had no choice. Moments passed before the voice spoke again. “You needn't worry, I have no desire to harm you, only to help.” Simba continued to be cautious, he knew that some animals like to trick others. He wasn't going to be fooled by this one. “And how are you going to help me?” A minute passes before he gets his answer. “By helping you face your past and putting your conscience to rest.” That made Simba both terrified and angry. How does he know about that? Was he there when his father was killed? “How do you know about that? You know nothing about me!” He looked around, feeling vulnerable both physically and mentally. This animal seemed to know everything about him, and it made him feel exposed. “Oh Simba....” In that second, a lion jumped down from a tree and landed right in front of him, “I know everything about you.”

The lion had yellow fur and a red mane with scars on several places of his body. In fact, he looked a lot like Simba, almost identical even. “Who are you?” The lion gave him a gentle smile. “Who I am is not important right now. What is important is getting you to face your past so you can take back your kingdom.” Simba let out a breath of annoyance. “I've already put my past behind me so there is no need to worry. Thank you for getting me out of that storm, now if you will excuse me. I have to get back home.” Simba got up and started to walk back towards the desert. The lion just sat there and watched him. “You put it behind you but you haven't faced it, there is a difference. What's going to happen when you face Scar? You think he put it behind him?” Simba started to growl but kept on walking. “I'm the heir to Mufasa, Scar has to step down for me.” The reply from the lion sounded closer than farther away. “And what if he doesn't?” Feeling annoyed and frustrated, Simba turned and faced him. “Why wouldn't he?” The lion was standing in front of him. “Because maybe he's hiding something.”

Simba gave him a confused look, not sure how he should have taken that. “What would he be hiding?” The lion looked at him for a few moments, as if thinking of whether or not he should say something, then closed his eyes and shook his head. “Look, I'm just saying that maybe you should consider it.” Simba began to feel frustrated again and impatient. He needed to get back to the Pridelands and this crazy lion is just slowing him down. He turned around and started walking again. The lion just stood there. “What if there was more to your fathers death than you know?” That stopped Simba. He growled and turned to face him. “I don't know what game your playing but it needs to stop. I don't need to worry about my past or about Scar. All you have been doing is speaking riddles and slowing me down. Now just stop following me and leave me alone!” At that, Simba turned again and continued walking. The lion sat there with a sad look and shook his head. “Things aren't always as they seem Simba. You'll soon learn the truth.” Simba looked behind him to reply but saw that the lion was gone. He was a little curious at what he meant but he couldn't be troubled by it. The lion doesn't know everything about him. Putting it behind him, Simba ran home. The next day he arrived at the Pridelands. That's when Simba learned that the lion was right. His fathers death wasn't as it seemed, and he did learn the truth.[/quote]

Entry #6: Shadowland
[quote]Nala stood up tall she looked at her mother who had a frown on her face, "Mom I will be back. Don't worry." Nala said before nuzzling her mother. "Nala you don't have to do this. Scar has the hyenas in the way they don't want anyone getting in or out." Sarafina said pulling away from Nala. "I have to mom. For you, Mufasa, Simba, Sarabi and my pride. Where ever this journey leads me I will remember my pride. I have no choice. I have to find my way. This was our home until Scar ruined it. The rivers dry, so I must go. I can't stay here my family, but I will remember my pride." Nala argued. "Let our prayers be your guide." Two lioness's said before bowing respectively. "Thank you I will." Nala replied. "The winds may take you so far away, always remember your pride." Sarabi said. "I will return. My people bless you all." Nala said before looking up to the sky and then running quickly into the darkness of the midnight moon and sky. The lioness's stood by each other. They all took a look at the dark sky's only seeing small glittery stars. "Mufasa guide her. Let her find help." Sarabi said. Sarafina and the lioness's closed their eyes praying to the kings as did Sarabi. Back in the den of priderock Scar was lying down on the very same area Mufasa would be with his queen. He kicked and scratched as his nightmare's rolled around in his head. "Brother what have you done!" Mufasa said loudly it ringed through Scar's head as a mighty roar of thunder would during a thunderstorm. "You have ran the lands dry you have killed me, you have destroyed my home." Mufasa said once again in Scar's mind. The "king" stood up as he woke from his sleep. "No!" He shouted. It echoed in the rocky den. The lioness's entered the den. "Where were you!" Scar asked pretending he even knew. The lioness's ignored Scar as they continued to walk in the den before lying in a mob near the entrance. Scar had an angry look on his face before he went back to sleep. Many miles from the pridelands Nala continued to run her feet ached as the hard dirt of the ground gave a beating to her feet. "Keep going. For Simba, for Sarabi, for Mufasa. For mom." She told herself over and over in her mind. She finally saw signs of life grass, trees, water! She quickly scanned an area with a large waterfall, she quickly digged her tongue into the flowing water. She smelled something, something that she knew was a good prey. Warthog. Crouching down she began to follow the scent. Timon and Pumbaa were singing, "In the jungle the mighty jungle the lion sleeps tonight!" Timon sang. Pumbaa soon strayed and Nala saw her prey. She began to leap at Pumbaa who started to scream as he ran after him, "She's gonna eat me!!" That's when Simba came in. Nala quickly started fighting him and then pinned him, "Nala?" The strange lion said. Nala backed off with confusion on her face she asked, "Who are you?" That's when he said, "Simba." Her mind went wild. "Simba, Simba!!! I thought he was dead!? He's alive!!!" rang in her mind. She had finally found help, and a new king.
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Entry #7: Meant to Be
[quote]Kiara walked with happiness, she hasn't seen Kovu since their parents toke them away from eachother the first time they met. They have grown, Kiara was now a beautiful adolescent and Kovu now had mane growing in his chest and back. Both had gone through training, Kovu went throught the hard training to kill King Simba and take the Pridelands. Kiara had gone through the easy training to be the next Queen after her mother.

Kovu was close, all he had to do was cross the bridge, and Kiara just got there and was sitting under a tree. He saw her and started running, she was more beautiful then before. Yet, her father was the worst thing ever according to Kovu. His heart had been changed by his own mother, he now believed in what she wanted him to believe. Zira hadn't got to telling him Kiara was a part of her plan. Her plan was for him to get closer to Simba by getting closer to Kiara.

"Hey Kovu!" Kiara yelled, waving her paw and smiling. Kovu glaced up and smiled, running faster through the bushes.

"Kiara! How have you been?" Finally reaching Kiara, sitting beside her and panting. Laughing, Kiara straightened up.

"I've been good, going through lots of training to be future queen!" Acting all prissy, then making a funny face. The two laughed, "And you?" She asked, looking to him with her red eyes.

"Oh, nothing. Just living my life!" Nervously laughing, trying to keep the training a secret so she wouldn't tell Simba. Smiling, Kiara purred.

"I wish I could! My father just tells me what to do, all the time!" Making her voice louder on the last three words, while rolling her eyes and looking to Priderock. Little did they know, Kovu was followed by his older sister Vitani. She prowelled in the deep grass, without Kovu knowing. As, she was a better hunter than him.

"I just mainly play fight my sister, and go hunt on the unknown lands for food." Biting his lower lip, making up stories for Kiara. He started to sweat nervously, so he laid down in the grass. Still in Vitani sight.

"Unknown lands?" Questioning, she laid beside him. Hoping he would tell a story. Well, she was in luck, he quickly made up a story in his head for her.

"Here's the story about them." Pausing, adding mystery. "The unknown lands are lands with unknown weather. One minute, the sky is clear of clouds. Next minute, you have a storm on your hands." Kiara gasped, then nodded for him to continue. "The lands are said to be cursed. The bloodline that used to own the lands, were killed. The last living king, set a curse on his lands. So no other king can own them. Hence, why you have never heard of it." Finishing his story, Kiara clapped.

"Great story! How do you know this?" She asked, as Kovu gulped. Making up another story in his head quickly.

'Well-" He paused, gulping again. Hoping his story would work. " My ancestors were a part of that Pride, and passed this story down. Another reasons why you have never heard of it." Glancing at her with a raised eyebrow. Vitani had enough and wanted to confront Kovu.

"So, Kovu. Kiara." Smiling, Vitani added some snobby tones to Kiara's name. As she hated Kiara and her father and wondered what Kovu saw in her. "I couldn't help to hear you talking about the secret unknown lands! No Pridelander is supposed to know. Now we have to report to mother, about what you did." Saving Kovu for a nervous breakdown.

"Ugh, fine Vitani." Then turned to Kiara, "I hope you had a wonderful short time with me. Sorry it ended so quick!" Licking Kiara's paw, as any gentlelion would do.

"It's okay, I hope we can see eachother again?" Hinting that she wanted to see him again. Kovu nodded then ran alongside Vitani while looking back and yelling 'Bye' like they did as their parents carried them off when they were cubs. Kiara yelled back.

"Thanks for saving my guts, Vitani. I was so close to blowing cover!" Saying as they started to slow into a walk. Vitani nodded.

"The last thing we want to happen is that. Hence, why I followed you. Guess what? Mom said no more seeing her until you save her from the fire that me and Nuka start. HAH!" Laughing, then glaring at Kovu and he glared back.

The two walked off into the Outlands, oppisate way from Kiara.[/quote]


Sorry it took so long. Organizing the stories and posting them is a pain. Worth it, though. Good luck to all!

Let me know if I made any errors in posting your stories (in a PM, please). There was a lot to keep track of and it's possible I missed one or failed to italicize something. I'm only human! Probably... ;3

And don't vote for yourself. That's just not kosher.

[MalibuTrashDog]

Good luck to all the runners :3

[DGFone]

Looking by the vote results and the quality of the writing, I liked the 2 votes per person better than this 1 vote system.

[Azdgari]

Not entirely sure what you're trying to get at with the first part of that post, but I do agree with the second part. It was worth trying (second contest? practically still trial runs) but I think I'll keep it two choices in the future. C:

[Panda-chan]

Just a lil suggestion...could you maybe put all the entries in spoilers? Makes navigation easier x3

[WildSimba]

Yeah, I agree with the 2 votes thing. There were a lot of good quality entries this round, I don't really see why any of them would be stuck without a vote.

[Azdgari]

Good idea, Amanda. C:

[FlipMode]

Vote is in, much luck to ya'll!