I don't own any of the characters.

Nala grinned as she saw the warthog try to duck under the fallen trunk and get stuck, a whole warthog to herself, this was going to be a feast compared to what she was used to. And then it wasn't, as at that moment, a blurred shape cleared the log, landing just in front of her, and didn't stop. The impact lifted the young lioness clean off her forepaws, raising her almost vertical before she managed to twist out of it.

Turning to face her attacked, Nala aimed several blows at where she presumed her attacker's head to be, but they had little effect, for her attacker just lowered its head and rammed forward. She tried to get out of the way, but the attack caught her unevenly under the chest, and lifted her forepaws off the ground for just a moment before unceremoniously dumping her down on her side. She tried to roll over, but a paw placed heavily on her shoulder prevented it.

It took Nala a moment or two to gather herself together before she looked up at her attacker, who turned out to be a lion, a big one with a red mane. Hope bloomed in the back of the young lioness's mind, this was exactly what she'd been looking for, although this first meeting could have gone better.

"Who are you," Simba asked of the lioness lying in front of him, "what are you doing here?"

"In the short term or the long term," Nala asked.

"Don't get cheeky," the lion said, "just tell me, what are you doing here?"

"Well I was hoping to get a meal for starters," Nala replied, "I haven't eaten in almost three days, and most of what I had before that was scraps."

"Well there's nothing to eat here in the jungle," Simba replied, which baffled Nala, what about that warthog? She didn't have time to mention that though, as Simba went on, "there's plenty of game out on the savannah if you can catch it."

Nala quickly tried to judge her own fitness from her performance in this last hunt, but didn't like the answer she came up with. "I don't think I could," she said, "I'm pretty much spent as it is."

"Well boo-hoo-hoo," Timon said, "we ain't got no sympathy for people who try to kill our friends, right Simba?"

"Yeah, right," Simba said, just slightly distractedly, as much as he agreed with Timon, he wasn't cruel, and this female was thin, unnaturally so even. Turning her out now would be cruel, perhaps even lethally so, and he knew the name for lethal cruelty.

Nala had mostly ignored the meerkat's outburst, all except the last word, 'Simba'. It took but a moment for the name to click but when it did... "Simba," she asked, "you're name's Simba?"

"And what is it to you," Simba asked.

"Everything," Nala replied, smiling, "If you're the Simba I knew, if you remember our adventure in the Elephant Graveyard, if you remember saving me from that hyena..."

Simba looked perplexed for a moment, then terrified the next, then finally said, "Nala...can it...is-is it really you?"

"It is," Nala replied, grinning, "and you know, you're better at this than you used to be."

"Well I do have a few advantages," Simba said, releasing Nala, "but..."

"What the heck are you doin' buddy," Timon exclaimed, "you're lettin' 'er get up, you're not supposed to do that, you're supposed to get rid of 'er."

"I'm not getting rid of her Timon," Simba replied, "she's an old friend."

"Yeah, an' we're old friends too," Timon said, "so what's it gonna be, her, or us?"

"Preferably neither," Simba said, a touch exasperated, "now would you shut up long enough for me to explain?"

"Fine," Timon said, crossing her arms, "but this had better be good."

Simba sighed and rolled his eyes, "fine, Nala, these are my friends, Timon, and Pumbaa," waving a paw at each in turn, "they saved my live back when I was a cub, and more than a few times since then too."

"Really," Nala asked, then turned to Pumbaa, "geez, I-I'm sorry I tried to kill you, if I'd only known..."

"Ah, that's okay, you didn't know," Pumbaa grunted, wriggling himself free of the log and making his way over, "pleased to meet you."

"And, uh, the same to you," Nala replied, then shot Simba questioning look.

"Pumbaa doesn't believe in holding grudges," Simba said in explanation of his friend's behaviour, "don't worry, you're not the first to find it odd."

"Oh, right," Nala said, "well thank you for you tolerance, uh, Pumbaa wasn't it?"

"Ah, s'alright," the warthog replied, "any friend of Simba's a friend of mine."

Nodding thanks at Pumbaa's quick acceptance, Nala turned back to Simba, "wait till everybody finds out you've been here all this time! And your mother... what will she think?"