Thank you Shady-777 for fixing this story up for me.

~*

As if on cue the wind blew east, covering her tattered-but-elegant cream pelt in dead grass, shielding the huntress from her unsuspecting prey.

From ancestral knowledge of the complex dance that was the hunt she eased forward, blue eyes fixated on her scrawny prey.

Precision in every silent, delicate step.

Precision...yet no amount of rightness could fix what had been done.

Long ears stood up straight on the creature's narrow face. Red eyes grew wide in fear. A sniff from the wind confirmed his dread. Like a mad bolt of lightning, the hoofed animal tore across the small patch of grassland which was once the west part of a land called " the Pridelands".

Snarling in determination, the lioness launched her tired body forward at full speed, quickly chasing the emaciated creature away from the small amount of food source that the remaining herbivores clung to.

She was quick.

Yet no matter how much she ran she couldn't forget what lay behind her: a dying way, a dying pride.

Her pride was ebbing away and this was her chance to buy them some time...some blessed time.

Time until what? Even the young cat herself didn't know. Time enough for a miracle, she supposed.

The high-speed chase seemed to pass in slow motion as the big cat thought about her imminent kill, though not for a moment letting up on her speed. For how long could such a frail animal feed her family? The antelope lacked muscle or even fat, yet seemed to run onwards thanks to the intense need of survival that beat within him while his pressure followed suit on pure determination, and determination alone. Both were mere relics of their former selves.

Catching this one skeletal antelope wouldn't change a thing. The animal could barely feed one lion in a pride, let alone a pride overrun with ravenous hyenas. The kill would go to the king's henchmen, the hyenas, not to her family. This pathetic excuse for a land-grazer would not save the starving cubs she was forced to see every day, only ease the stomach pains of their hyena oppressors.

Exhaustion took over the lanky antelope's body, and his legs began to buckle.

Instinctively a cream paw was extended ever-so-slightly.

He tripped. He tumbled to the ground. He was doomed.

The rundown animal looked through the dust, awaiting his killer's death bite at any moment. His tongue hung out of his mouth as he panted, hoping the death would be a quick one.

As the dust settled the lone figure of a lioness appeared. A slender lioness with neatly-groomed cream fur that bore the marks of confrontations with hyenas, and azure eyes. Her teeth were bared as she approached the animal, tail lashing angrily at some thought the hoofed animal could not read.

Standing over him, she paused her death blow and looked towards the looming figure of a dark Pride Rock. Her ears twitched in thought as the antelope caught his breath and wondered if he could escape. Before he could shakily bring himself to his hooves she turned to him sharply.

Words were hardly ever exchanged between hunter and prey; it was extremely rare. But what was even more rare was for a hunter to spare her hard-earned prey, especially when she herself was in a less-than-admirable state.

This lioness decided to do both rarities. "Go." Her voice was raw. "Go far away from here while you still can." She looked down at her paws that rested on cracked dirt. "This is no place to live."

With that she turned away from the confused creature. Not once did the proud huntress look back — instead she went to her 'home' and reported to a hyena — the beast called Shenzi — that she was unsuccessful catching any prey. She watched as the eccentric animal frowned and she swore she heard its stomach rumble. As the female hyena retreated back to the larger group of whooping predators, the lioness thought proudly that that was one meal those hyenas wouldn't have.

The next day a cub passed away, and in desperation all of the lionesses left on an all-day hunt mission.

Nala felt guilty for the young cub's death. Perhaps she could have saved the innocent one's life by killing that antelope.

No, she reassured herself. Anything she would have caught would have gone to the hyenas leaving the lions with nothing more than bones. The cub's fate was sealed long ago. It was sealed the moment Scar took over.

What was once the watering hole held another one's fate. As the two-year-old lioness edged towards the dead body that lay in the middle of the dried-up water bed, she realized it was the same antelope she had encountered the other day.

She stared at the animal with an unstirred look. He wouldn't be the first to die like this, of any species for that matter.

Poking the cold body with a lean paw, she let out a sigh. Rightness in the actions of herself and the other lionesses could not save them or their home. Running couldn't help them forget where they stood. If things stayed the same, her pride would be just like the deceased creature before her. Exhausted, depressed, and starving they would die. They would die in search for relief from their torment, just as he had died in his search for quenching water.

Nala's eyes turned up to the gray sky. She never could remember the sky being gray when she was small. When this was the Pridelands. Looking around her she was certain this wasn't the same place she grew up in. No longer was it lush and active with all sorts of life — now it was barren and full of skeletons. A Shadowland.

Giving one final look at the antelope, Nala ran. She ran as fast as her tired legs could take her, but she wasn't running from her home or her family. She was running to restore it. Out there help had to be hiding, somewhere...somewhere. And she would find it.

Though Nala never tasted the spilled blood of the antelope clenched tightly in her jaw and never felt the false hope of providing for her family, it was that antelope that prompted her to go find help. With that single death, countless would be saved as the tyrannical reign of death and sorrow finally came to an end.