Zira stretched out on her side, looking through a crack in the rocks in one of the back most sections of the cave. Her son, Nuka, was stalking around the cavern, pretending to hunt. She had been bringing him solid food for a while now, and was considering bringing the cub out for his first hunting lesson. The drought, however, left little in terms of food, and they could not currently afford to miss any kills, as they surely would with inexperienced lions on the job. She shrugged, closing her eyes. Nuka was the future king; it wasn't so important that he learned to hunt, as someday the others would be serving him.

"Nuka!" she called out from her position on the floor. "Quit wasting your energy. You can play around when the drought ends, but for now you need to settle down."

The cub paused hesitantly, glancing back at his mother. He was restless, and he did want to learn to hunt, but he wasn't disobedient. "Yes, mother," he answered glumly, sitting down.

Zira's ears pricked as she heard movement again. She opened her eyes in a glare, expecting to need to chide her son. Her expression softened when she saw her mate, Scar, entering. She pushed herself up onto her stomach, smiling. "Hello."

Scar wasn't as obviously enthusiastic about seeing her. He walked over to her with very little change in expression, sitting back on his haunches once within a few feet of her. Nuka ran over energetically, tripping over his father's paws. Scar lifted his paws out from under the cub, offering a slight push to get Nuka standing again.

"How goes the child raising?" Scar asked, watching as his son pounced at invisible targets, showing off to get attention.

Zira laughed. "Well, although he has too much energy for a cub we can barely feed."

"More energy than you, it looks like," Scar observed.

"Don't cubs always have more energy than we do? Simba had more energy than you, before..."

"Yes, well... That's a matter of the past. I prefer not to dwell on it."

Zira was silent for a few moments. She must have started on a tender topic. Although she knew Scar disliked his brother, for the favoritism his family had shown toward him, she was relatively certain that he didn't attribute those negative feelings to Simba. After all, Simba had been a cub, and could not possibly have known any of the circumstances – he did not, in all honesty, even seem to notice that his father and uncle did not get along. Even so, now Simba was dead, as was Mufasa, and the topic of deceased relatives was never a particularly fond one for anybody. "Sorry..."

Scar shook his head, dismissing the issue. He stood to leave, watching Nuka and Zira over his shoulder as he went. Zira stayed still, listening to his fading pawsteps as he left. When the sound was gone, she laid her chin on her paws, staring at the wall. It seemed the drought had strained them all.