Simba looked back at his friend, and gave him a smile of thanks. Simba knew that he should go back, but his friends needed him here in the jungle. He couldn't leave them helpless.. but he couldn't leave his family in danger either. This was one of the many hard decisions Simba didn't like to make. Though he wasn't completely sure that bad stuff was going on back at his home. Everyone could be happy as can be, and if he went back, and things were like this, then he would of gone back for nothing at all. But Simba had a feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that got stronger and stronger, that bad things were happening back at home. Simba did not want to listen to this feeling.
He turned back to Timon. "You can come with me though. I'm sure nobody will mind you two around. And I can fight Scar." Simba eyed the leaf with grubs on it. He got off the hammock, and grabbed a few snails, slurping them silly out of their shells. Simba let out a huge belch, and sat back up in his hammock. He thought for a moment. "Timon, I'm going back tomorrow."