A Matter of Pride (GeminiGemelo and Julie Skywalker)

[Gemini]

Scar tiptoed out of the cave on quiet, muted paws to survey his kingdom. By doing this, he wasn't sure, exactly, what to expect. The pastures were no greener than his last visit, and indeed, as he looked out upon the Pridelands, he sensed that affairs were only getting worse. Before, many subtle shades of brown had crept, stealthily, into the field... like a blight or a virus that couldn't be contained. But now those gentle baby hues were darkening, leaving ugly streaks of stark black and putrid gray to mar the once verdant green of the his brother's former kingdom. There were still some patches of healthy vegetation and crystal waters, to be sure...

But none, including him, could be sure of how long that would keep up.

His claws clicked almost silently on the harsh, barren stone. To say that he was unconcerned about his kingdom - his kingdom - would be something of a lie. However, he did have appearances to keep up, subjects to rule over, a composure to keep... and at the end of the day, he couldn't control something as petty and capricious as the weather.

... Still, though... that shade of gray...

He closed his lemon-lime eyes, hoping that that would help to suppress the odd twinge in his gut that said that maybe, just maybe... he deserved this.

It didn't. His eyes snapped open.

The thought of divine punishment did not soothe him in the least bit. He knew that, if any were to be punished, it deserved to be him... he was at fault for what he did, and nobody - save a few hyenas - knew about the dirty crimes that littered his soiled past. Killing his brother was just one, albeit a particularly sordid one, amongst many.

It took him a moment to realize that his hackles had been bristling. He felt it as a hot flush that had swam up his spine and to his face, making his coat sweaty and somewhat matted and prickly.

The king Scar felt dirty... and not just because his oily fur had been unduly and uncharacteristically neglected over the past few days.

He stared off another moment, before finally shaking himself out of his reveries. Indeed, he'd never been much of a spiritual lion - why should he have been, after all? - and so even though the distant threat of his brother's vengeance viscerally pricked at him, a tangible reminder of his guilt, there was simply no reason to believe that any of this was so. His anxieties, he finally told himself, were unfounded. He had not been caught for his crimes, and so long as this were true, there was no reason to expect punishment for them. All he had to do was, simply, to keep up appearances.

Yes, to keep up appearances, to keep up appearances...

He straightened out his slumped posture and decided to attend to his coat, at long last. Worrying could wait for another day. At this point, now, it was simply a matter of keeping and extending his control over the surrounding lands... And, of course, keeping up the facade he had so carefully kept around himself.

He sauntered coolly back into the cave, determined not to let his emotions show. Usually he did a pretty good job of that. But that didn't, however, keep one last prick from assailing his secretly- and perennially-troubled mind.

For even though Scar was the king... he was not a content king.

That much would never be denied, even by him...

[Carl]

Breaking the stillness of the savanna, there was the sudden clap of a paw to the tufted forehead of a young lioness, squishing some insect or another against her furㅡfur which had once displayed an almost reddish brightness but had since dulled with malnutrition and the gloomy atmosphere that had pervaded the Pridelands since the unfortunate loss of the late king and prince. She squinted her eyes again, wrinkling her nose at the putrid odor of the gazelle carcass baking in the insufferable heat before her. Hyenas swarmed the carrion ravenously, increasing the distasteful aura about the scene. She felt almost like wretching, and swallowed bile at the thought that crossed her mind.

There they go again, wolfing down all of the food we have.

Truth be told, it was all of the food they had. She had no choice but to admit such an egregious fact. A rotting corpse, crawling with maggots and disintegrating in the African sunㅡand the only prospect of food she had lain eyes on this day. She had entertained the notion of stealing the morsel from the fiends, but a sidelong glance at the lead huntress stayed her. Sarabi was wise, and it was visible in her very features; she knew that an attack on the king's lackeys would be more costly than beneficial, and her eyes silently warned Tama not to act on her fancy. In fact, the lead huntress gave the signal to fall back and regroup, leading the lionesses out of earshot of the hyenas.

"We have to take them, Sarabi, that's the only thing we've seen today," Tama grumbled.

"There's too many of them, the risk of one getting back to Scar and reporting our attack is too great," Nala countered.

"So we just starve?" the tufted lioness growled.

"No," Sarabi interjected, "No, we don't. We will do what must be done."

"You don't mean...?" Sarafina asked.

"I do. We must hunt outside the borders," the lead huntress confirmed softly but powerfully.

"Finally someone's talking sense!" Tama chirped, pleased to be making progress again so that they could get moving and take care of the pride.

"But what of the hyena border guard?" Sarafina queried. Tama's stomach turned over, her ears flattening against her skull as she bared her fangs. Those wretched beings were far too numerous for the lionesses to do anything, running rampant and doing as they pleased while almost never facing punishment from the so-called king. There had to be some way for things to change. The deathly gray of the land, the lack of food and water... it was too much to continue.

"I have thought this through, and I know how we must proceed," Sarabi continued, "We have not visited the gorge since Mufasa's death. There is a rumor amongst the hyenas that some number of wildebeest are hiding out thereㅡwe will investigate this, and see what we can live on, rats, birds, whatever we can find, while we monitor the border guard to learn their paths so that we may easily get past them for hunting. It's the best option I can think of."

The tufted lioness groaned, "Mice? Birds? We'll starve!"

"Maybe the rumor about the wildebeest is true, then we'd eat a little better," Nala suggested, "Don't worry, Tama. We'll live through this drought. We're strong enough, and smart enough."

For a moment, Tama contemplated, studying the surreal darkness of the sky, wondering if that were true. Wondering if she dared to believe in it, or to even hope that it were possible to get through this. With determination lining her features, she nodded solemnly and spoke again, "Then what are we waiting for? Let's check out the gorge."

"Not at this moment, Scar might be suspicious if we're away too long," Sarafina murmured. Sarabi nodded.

"He'll notice our absence has been prolonged, and we'll get an earful at best," the former queen concurred.

Tama loosed a low snarl at them. This was unbelievable. Scar was always angry with them. Nothing would prevent them from being reprimanded, and she couldn't see how it was worth going hungry for longer over. It was infuriating, to put it simply.

"Fine! All of you run along back to Scar if you want, but I'm going to go to the gorge!" she growled, sprinting away from them in frustration. She would not sit idly by around Pride Rock trying to appease the unappeasable while the pride went hungry. She would not waste time that could be used finding food sucking up to the king who had brought in the hyenas (whatever his motives) and in so doing had ruined them. That was all there was to it.

[Gemini]

Scar lay still on the tip of Pride Rock - one of his favorite spots, for it was here that he was reminded of how powerful he was. It used to be only Mufasa that went up to this peak...

... Mufasa...

His breath caught for a mere split second. Maybe he felt something. Something... uncomfortable... no. That wasn't right. He pushed the thought of the golden king out of his mind. Mufasa was a weakling - his body had been muscled but his mind was feeble, almost infantile in a way. He lacked discipline, he lacked the stringency needed to be a king, he lacked the iron fist that was needed to keep his subordinates in line...

Speaking of subordinates, where was Mufasa's whelp, anyhow? Where was that damn thorn, Sarabi?

He arose to his feet, noticing they'd been gone for hours, as they usually were. And honestly, did they need such a long span of time to hunt? During Mufasa's reign, there was plenty. During Mufasa's reign, hunting could be done by noon. In Mufasa's reign -

STOP IT, DAMN YOU.

His thoughts whirled around acerbically, almost as though he'd mentally bit himself. It wasn't - couldn't be - shouldn't have been - wouldn't have been - healthy to think of that blatant, blasted idiot. The dark lion knew that for sure - his heart was pounding and he felt a prickle of sweat crawl up to his nape. He hated thinking about Muf - his brother - yet he couldn't stop. It was an incessant, itching, burning, pounding, screaming, perennial habit. A compulsive need to pick the mental scab, over and over and over and over... Incessantly, insanely, interminably...

Hackles bristling, teeth exposed, he growled a little. Sarabi was stupid. Or lazy. Were those lionesses plotting against him? Had to have been. There was no other excuse for them to be out this late... they were trying to make him look bad.

Or worse, at least... not that you don't deserve it...

He took in a sharp breath, again feeling as though he'd been stabbed somewhere in his brain. Alas, there was only one cure for times like this - instances where his mind was such an indecipherable mess, such a melting pot of self-deprecation and vindictive anger and loathing and scathing bitterness and, well, pretty much every other negative emotion he could feel. It was a ritual he hated with all his being... yet it, in a weird way, was the only part of his routine that granted him solace.

Nobody else could know. But who would? Nightfall was coming - the red sun was low, the afternoon late...

He was sure nobody would be at the gorge.

[Carl]

It was creepy, to put it mildly. The gorge was as vacant of life as the rest of the Pride Lands, only... somehow it felt ever more devoid of life. Whereas the rest of the land felt vacant and hopeless, here it felt... ominous. Tama tread carefully as she began to descend the nearest slope towards the bottom of the chasm. The air felt like death, but she knew in her heart that she couldn't afford to turn back. The lionesses were probably already back at Pride Rock, probably getting an earful about her absence, because, of course, the king would assume they had been plotting and that she were up to something... He didn't care about any of the lionesses, but he was observant. He knew the faces and scents of the pride, and he'd notice a missing lioness. She had to make whatever he might be putting the others throughㅡor would put her through laterㅡworth it. She had to at least thoroughly investigate this abysmal place.

Her left forepaw loosed a pebble that proceeded to roll away down into an eerie mist that emanated from the gorge. Her heart skipped a beat. The wildebeest rumors weren't true, that much was obvious, but she could feel an otherworldly presence. It was as if the spirits of the dead gathered here and dared not leave; a cold death shroud seemed to cover the entire place and penetrate through her flesh, chilling the young lioness to the bone. She tried to suppress a shudder as she padded carefully on down the steep, rough surface, careful not to step on anything too sharp and cut the pads of her feet. The last thing she needed was to be bleeding hereㅡit felt almost like that would be a death sentence.

Hell, being here felt like she'd already accepted death. The oppressive stillness grew ever heavier the deeper she descended, as if she were climbing down into the fathoms of the underworld itself. Tama was possessed with the desire to turn back, report that there was nothing to be found, and plan an excursion beyond the borders so that she could just forget this place, for she knew now that nothing living would be found at the base of the gorge. She knew there would be no mice, nor birds, perhaps not even spiders nor snakes... but now; despite her misgivings and intense desire to flee, the lioness simultaneously felt compelled to proceed and to see what exactly, if anything, awaited her.

It wasn't exactly like dying would be a worse fate than living under "King" Scar.

At length her uneasy pawsteps brought her to the lowest point, the bottom of the cliff, the inside of the gorge. She shivered, and stood motionless for a moment, her breath caught as if she feared even so much as breathing, the mist around her thick, heavy, and cold blurring her vision at a distance. Her hunter's instincts told her to remain absolutely silent, and she obeyed, moving forward on stealthy paws, squinting her eyes and exploring cautiously. This was an evil place, an unholy place... She had been prepared for bad, but she had not expected this. The site of Mufasa's death was not a place for living creatures to be. The Great Kings must be very displeased.

There's nothing here. I should just leave.

And yet she couldn't bring herself to move. The lioness remained stationary, barely so much as twitching her tail as she gazed into the gorge. There was a broken tree in the distance, and beneath it lie something she couldn't quite make out. Long she stood there, gazing at it, wondering, fearing, doubting... She would assume it to be tree roots, but they wouldn't be arranged in such a pattern... nor would they be that ghastly coloration. Not wanting to believe it, she tentatively stepped towards the shapes. When she was near enough to make it out, she couldn't deny what it was. Bones. Not simply bones, eitherㅡno. A lion's skeleton. This was the spot. She was staring at the earthly remains of Mufasa. Horror began setting in, her fur standing on end, and just as she was prepared to turn and run, she heard the sound of a dislodged pebble behind her, and froze.

Dare she look back?