"Mjomba Taka! Guess what!"

"I despise guessing games."

"I'm gonna be king of Ardhi Ya Kiburi!"

"Oh, goody."

"Baba says I will be announced as Crowned Prince soon!" Which isn't a lie but how soon is soon would depend on who you ask, the Prince is only nine years old after all. "And I'm going to rule it all!"

"Yes, well… Forgive me for not leaping for joy. Bad back, you know."

Taka shapeshifts and it's as easy as him standing on two legs one second and standing on four the next. He flops down on the grass of the utmost furthest of the gardens, the one that is always empty with only a single gardener to keep company. And even they maintain a distance, much more preoccupied with trimming hedges.

"Hey, Mjomba Taka." Simba is still a boy, and Taka feels his human hands press down on his black mane as his nephew climbs on him with no regards for the sneer his uncle wears. "When I'm king, what'll that make you?"

"A monkey's uncle," rumbles Taka with the enunciation his form would allow

The king-to-be finds that hilarious, he rolls off from Taka's mane and he's a cub when Taka looks at him. Simba is somewhat tangled on the clothes he wore, he still hasn't learned how to properly shapeshift without having to drop his clothes in the transformation.

"You're so weird," says Simba.

"You have no idea," says Taka, "So, has your father showed you all the kingdom?"

"Everything." Which Taka knows is a lie even if Simba thinks it's a truth, Ardhi Ya Kiburi is too massive for the prince to see it all with the few outings he's done beyond the castle walls.

"He didn't show you what's beyond that rise at the northern border… ?"

Simba's shoulders rise as his head lowers. Disappointed, he says, "Well… no. He said I can't go there."

"And he's absolutely right." Taka lifts himself off the grass. "It's far too dangerous, only the bravest go there."

"Well, I'm brave!" Simba jumps to his feet, he is so terribly small beside Taka. "What's out th—"

"No, I'm sorry, Simba. I just can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Simba. Simba. I am looking out for the well-being of my favourite nephew."

One massive paw the size — or bigger — of Simba's head rubs the top of it. Taka's abnormally long claws peak out and should he decide to unsheath them properly it would be easy, so easy, to just kill the cub. He doesn't.

Simba laughs.

"Yeah, right. I'm your only nephew."

"All the more reason for me to be protective." Taka grooms the back of the paw he'd rubbed Simba's head with. "An elephant graveyard is no place for a young prince."

Taka fakes surprise and hides his smile behind the same paw as he sees Simba's eyes sparkle.

"An elephant what? Whoa."

"Oh dear," Taka says with dismay that wouldn't have fooled anyone who wasn't a young cub easy to impress. "Well, I suppose you'd have found sooner or later, you being so clever and all."

Taka lowers himself to be eye-level with Simba, having to go as far as laying down on the grass again with his chin just barely brushing his paws. "Oh, just do me one favour — promise me you'll never visit that dreadful place."

It's a lie when Simba says, "No problem."

"That's a good lad. You run along now and have fun." Taka crosses his paws and puts his chin on top of them. Simba shifts and puts his clothes back properly. He stops shortly before leaving to hear his uncle say, "And remember… it's our little secret."