The story is very simple in it's self, and really isn't very long. It is simply a 3rd person point of view from my OC Busara in the aftermath of the Battle For Pride Rock, some might know it as Simba's Roar.
Well with out any more jabbering, I present to you...
The Kings Return
Spoiler: show
The heavy rain fell, putting out the flames that had previously engulfed Pride Rock. The downpour showered the landscape with life-giving water, starting the return of the wildlife that had long since left the lands, and the Pridelands would start to recover, even if the transformation was long and tedious.
Busara sat down, letting the cooling rain ease the pain of his wounds. He looked all over his body, observing all the nicks and cuts that he had obtained from the fight, the most prominent one being a rather serious looking bite mark on his left shoulder. “Hyenas,” he scoffed in a low voice, so that only he could hear.
Busara looked up, to see a very large, dark looking Lion approaching him; he instantly recognized the shape, standing up to greet him. “Heshima,” he greeted, knowing that only his son could have such immense size.
“Father,” Heshima said, walking up to his father, “that is the last of them, the rest of the Hyenas have fled.”
“And what of Scar?” Busara asked, knowing that if the hyenas fled, the scar must have fled with them.
“Well, rest assured we won’t be seeing him for a long time,” Heshima responded in a slightly humorous tone. “Hyenas tore him apart, found the remains behind Pride Rock. Wasn’t pretty.”
“Well he had what was coming to him,” Said Busara, standing up, “well, I suggest now that try and find Simba, wherever he is.”
“Agreed,” Heshima acknowledged.
So the two lions returned to the foot of pride rock, where the rest of the pride had gathered, awaiting for the return of Simba form the top of pride rock. And no longer than did Busara and Heshima sit down, did a golden coated lion with a think red mane step down from the Rock. “Simba!” Busara heard one of the lionesses softly exclaim.
The rain had now thoroughly soaked everyone, even Simba, whose mane was wetted down with the weight of the water.
Simba had sustained many injuries from his battle with Scar, even from the distance that Busara was at; he could still see the burn marks around Simba’s eyes, and the cuts all along his body and legs. Despite these though, he still had a smile on his muzzle.
Simba walked down Pride Rock and approached the pride, where he was greeted with affectionate nuzzles from both his mother, Sarabi, and his friend, Nala. Busara was relieved that Simba was fine and that he had successfully defeated Scar.
Simba’s attention was then averted from his pride to the Mandrill that was standing on the top of the rock steps that lead to the entrance of Pride Rock’s den. He beckoned Simba to come to him. Simba then walked over to the Mandrill, who bowed in front of Simba, and Simba, instead of bowing back, gave the Mandrill a hug. The mandrill then uttered something to Simba, and Busara could only guess what he said.
Simba then released the Mandrill from his hug and turned around, and he began to walk up Pride Rock’s pathway. His Stride was both proud and majestic, with every step seeming to resonate throughout the entire Pridelands.
Simba reached the edge, his majestic silhouette cast across the sky. Everyone in the pride could see him; and, at least for a mile around, all attention was on him. Busara saw Simba look into the sky, and then back down with a look of revelation.
Simba released a mighty roar from seemingly the inner depths within his body; this roar was louder than any other roar that Busara had ever heard. Then, by instinct, Busara, along with Heshima and the rest of the pride, roared along with Simba. These roars would echo throughout the Pridelands to be heard for the months to come. But these roars were not just roars; they had a message to them, a message that would tell everyone that the king had returned, and that they could start rebuilding the Pridelands back to its former glory.
Busara sat down, letting the cooling rain ease the pain of his wounds. He looked all over his body, observing all the nicks and cuts that he had obtained from the fight, the most prominent one being a rather serious looking bite mark on his left shoulder. “Hyenas,” he scoffed in a low voice, so that only he could hear.
Busara looked up, to see a very large, dark looking Lion approaching him; he instantly recognized the shape, standing up to greet him. “Heshima,” he greeted, knowing that only his son could have such immense size.
“Father,” Heshima said, walking up to his father, “that is the last of them, the rest of the Hyenas have fled.”
“And what of Scar?” Busara asked, knowing that if the hyenas fled, the scar must have fled with them.
“Well, rest assured we won’t be seeing him for a long time,” Heshima responded in a slightly humorous tone. “Hyenas tore him apart, found the remains behind Pride Rock. Wasn’t pretty.”
“Well he had what was coming to him,” Said Busara, standing up, “well, I suggest now that try and find Simba, wherever he is.”
“Agreed,” Heshima acknowledged.
So the two lions returned to the foot of pride rock, where the rest of the pride had gathered, awaiting for the return of Simba form the top of pride rock. And no longer than did Busara and Heshima sit down, did a golden coated lion with a think red mane step down from the Rock. “Simba!” Busara heard one of the lionesses softly exclaim.
The rain had now thoroughly soaked everyone, even Simba, whose mane was wetted down with the weight of the water.
Simba had sustained many injuries from his battle with Scar, even from the distance that Busara was at; he could still see the burn marks around Simba’s eyes, and the cuts all along his body and legs. Despite these though, he still had a smile on his muzzle.
Simba walked down Pride Rock and approached the pride, where he was greeted with affectionate nuzzles from both his mother, Sarabi, and his friend, Nala. Busara was relieved that Simba was fine and that he had successfully defeated Scar.
Simba’s attention was then averted from his pride to the Mandrill that was standing on the top of the rock steps that lead to the entrance of Pride Rock’s den. He beckoned Simba to come to him. Simba then walked over to the Mandrill, who bowed in front of Simba, and Simba, instead of bowing back, gave the Mandrill a hug. The mandrill then uttered something to Simba, and Busara could only guess what he said.
Simba then released the Mandrill from his hug and turned around, and he began to walk up Pride Rock’s pathway. His Stride was both proud and majestic, with every step seeming to resonate throughout the entire Pridelands.
Simba reached the edge, his majestic silhouette cast across the sky. Everyone in the pride could see him; and, at least for a mile around, all attention was on him. Busara saw Simba look into the sky, and then back down with a look of revelation.
Simba released a mighty roar from seemingly the inner depths within his body; this roar was louder than any other roar that Busara had ever heard. Then, by instinct, Busara, along with Heshima and the rest of the pride, roared along with Simba. These roars would echo throughout the Pridelands to be heard for the months to come. But these roars were not just roars; they had a message to them, a message that would tell everyone that the king had returned, and that they could start rebuilding the Pridelands back to its former glory.
