If a hatsana bird took care to return to pride rock after a day away, say
from visiting the waterholes or flying ever farther in the search for the
most food, it would find little changed. Save for its own plumage of a dull
red, broken at intervals by blue jet black and dull brown, the skies would
have remained empty for the three or so days Queen Nala and her band had
been missing.
Days that casually stretched themselves into an eternity, taunting the King who paced through them ceaselessly. The skies had not given up Zaza's returning form, and Simba was on the verge of giving up himself. Not on Nala, never on her, but on his prior resolve to deal with this situation carefully, and not with rashness.
Yet now indecision was the new beast that stalked him, as once guilt had done to a cub stripped of innocence, that had fled into parched wastelands. Members of pride were uneasy at the sight of him, even as they looked at him to make some decision. Any decision.
"Simba."
Sarabi found her son staring into the water, where days ago a playful water fight had seemed to be the beginning of a new era for the pride. The aging lioness would have given anything for that son of hers to be restored. Not the shadow that sat before her.
Simba slowly raised his head to regard her, his mane was coated in dust and dried mud at its tips testified to how he had spent the days. Utter dejection was in those eyes that Sarabi had feared facing in her tentative approach. What her son needed was a short sharp shock. Age and a kinship didn't make him any less her son, and she would do what she though best. Being kind and understanding went so far, though she would regret the hurt she was about to cause.
"What are you doing here?" She said sharply.
His eyes widened in surprise. No one had dared to speak loud around him for a while. "I.I was just." His head drooped, if possible, still further.
"Just.sitting around." Sarabi said crisply, casually, padding closer.
Simba settled back on powerful hind legs to regard her fully.
"Yes." There was guilt in there.
"Oh well that's alright then," the lioness threw back. "After all, it's not like you have a queen and other lionesses missing!"
Her son's mouth dropped open, and a sharp intake of breath disturbed the otherwise heavy silence.
He looked at her stunned.
She held her ground.
"You think I don't know that!" Simba yelled, suddenly leaping forward onto a higher walk, away from her. "That I am not constantly thinking of them?!"
It was the mother's turn to intake breath, to steady herself for her next words.
"Mufusa wouldn't have just thought."
The silence immediately flashed from heavy to explosive. Simba wheeled his whole body round to face her once more, every inch of it rigid.
Her words couldn't have hurt more had she physically raked him across the face with her claws.
"What does my father have to do with this?! He's dead, he can do nothing!"
"You are the one who is doing nothing!"
Sarabi was on her feet now, facing her son in what was an uncomfortable stand off. Yet she had to continue.
"Had your father been alive now, there would have been action. None of this deliberating while lives may be lost."
Simba gave an involuntary snarl into empty air, his teeth bared. He leapt back to the flat rock to confront her directly.
"You don't understand! Rash action once cost a life! His life." He wanted to lash out, at someone, anyone. "Not that you would care about that, obviously."
"How dare you!"
Sarabi lashed out and swiped her son across the face.
Simba recoiled back, though he took the main with nothing more than a clenching of his teeth.
"Don't you dare ever say that!" Sarabi continued harshly. "That day I lost Mufusa I was torn in half. Worse, I lost both of you! How can you say I didn't care? If Mufasa hadn't acted then I would have lost one of you anyway!" She eyed him sadly. "It looks like I still have lost both of you regardless."
The highly charged atmosphere remained, but Simba replied wearily, the fight going from his voice.
"I don't know anymore, I just don't. I've acted the way I have as I haven't known wanted to repeat actions which might cost those lives you mentioned." He raised his eyes to meet hers once more.
A gentle look came into Sarabi's features. "Simba, I am not saying what you have done up till now is wrong. To the contrary I was never more proud of you."
His eyes searched hers. "But you said."
She smiled softly, "Only to try and pull you out of this stupor. There comes a time when decisions have to be made, some are just more harder than others. And I know Mufusa would have been proud of you too."
"How can you know that." He sighed. "I've tried so hard to."
"Simba." She interrupted him with a shake of her head, and guided him with a kinder paw to the water's edge.
Slowly Simba peered into the placid water, which was nothing like what he felt inside.
"You can't find your father in a reflection," Sarabi said simply. "He's in you, that's where it matters, and that why you needn't try so hard."
"I was once told that." He looked back at her surprised. "You knew!"
The lioness at that moment seemed wiser than her years, than all ages. "The savannah likes to talk."
"I seem to have forgotten that," Simba said, half to himself.
"What, about the savannah," Sarabi pressed him gently.
"No, about my father, what you said."
"It seems to me that you think of him too much. Oh, I am not saying it isn't right to remember him, but the living are the ones that are truly here for us. Like Nala, she needs you finding her, not sitting here thinking about it."
Something settled inside of Simba, that had been off kilter for a long time. The look he sent his mother said it all, yet she was not quite finished.
"You are not only Mufasa's son. You're mine too," she said softly. You can't let a life slide away while wondering how others think you should live it."
That did it, Simba sprang forward in the knowledge he couldn't waste another moment. However as he went past Sarabi, he pressed his nose into hers to say, "Thank you mother, I needed to hear that." he faltered as if trying to find the right words.
The expression in her eyes told him he didn't need to. He bounded away through grass which suddenly felt less resistant.
She laughed after him, "Where are you going!"
Came back the cry, "To find them! I'll be back at dawn, and Zaza has till then!"
She sat motionless, yet happy, till his form had faded from view. Upon which she turned back to the water, needing to take a few laps.
"At least he's not gone to 'find himself' also," she murmured.
And soon the water's edge was deserted once more as a second set of paws carried their owner away, though at a far slower pace than had the Lion King's.
Days that casually stretched themselves into an eternity, taunting the King who paced through them ceaselessly. The skies had not given up Zaza's returning form, and Simba was on the verge of giving up himself. Not on Nala, never on her, but on his prior resolve to deal with this situation carefully, and not with rashness.
Yet now indecision was the new beast that stalked him, as once guilt had done to a cub stripped of innocence, that had fled into parched wastelands. Members of pride were uneasy at the sight of him, even as they looked at him to make some decision. Any decision.
"Simba."
Sarabi found her son staring into the water, where days ago a playful water fight had seemed to be the beginning of a new era for the pride. The aging lioness would have given anything for that son of hers to be restored. Not the shadow that sat before her.
Simba slowly raised his head to regard her, his mane was coated in dust and dried mud at its tips testified to how he had spent the days. Utter dejection was in those eyes that Sarabi had feared facing in her tentative approach. What her son needed was a short sharp shock. Age and a kinship didn't make him any less her son, and she would do what she though best. Being kind and understanding went so far, though she would regret the hurt she was about to cause.
"What are you doing here?" She said sharply.
His eyes widened in surprise. No one had dared to speak loud around him for a while. "I.I was just." His head drooped, if possible, still further.
"Just.sitting around." Sarabi said crisply, casually, padding closer.
Simba settled back on powerful hind legs to regard her fully.
"Yes." There was guilt in there.
"Oh well that's alright then," the lioness threw back. "After all, it's not like you have a queen and other lionesses missing!"
Her son's mouth dropped open, and a sharp intake of breath disturbed the otherwise heavy silence.
He looked at her stunned.
She held her ground.
"You think I don't know that!" Simba yelled, suddenly leaping forward onto a higher walk, away from her. "That I am not constantly thinking of them?!"
It was the mother's turn to intake breath, to steady herself for her next words.
"Mufusa wouldn't have just thought."
The silence immediately flashed from heavy to explosive. Simba wheeled his whole body round to face her once more, every inch of it rigid.
Her words couldn't have hurt more had she physically raked him across the face with her claws.
"What does my father have to do with this?! He's dead, he can do nothing!"
"You are the one who is doing nothing!"
Sarabi was on her feet now, facing her son in what was an uncomfortable stand off. Yet she had to continue.
"Had your father been alive now, there would have been action. None of this deliberating while lives may be lost."
Simba gave an involuntary snarl into empty air, his teeth bared. He leapt back to the flat rock to confront her directly.
"You don't understand! Rash action once cost a life! His life." He wanted to lash out, at someone, anyone. "Not that you would care about that, obviously."
"How dare you!"
Sarabi lashed out and swiped her son across the face.
Simba recoiled back, though he took the main with nothing more than a clenching of his teeth.
"Don't you dare ever say that!" Sarabi continued harshly. "That day I lost Mufusa I was torn in half. Worse, I lost both of you! How can you say I didn't care? If Mufasa hadn't acted then I would have lost one of you anyway!" She eyed him sadly. "It looks like I still have lost both of you regardless."
The highly charged atmosphere remained, but Simba replied wearily, the fight going from his voice.
"I don't know anymore, I just don't. I've acted the way I have as I haven't known wanted to repeat actions which might cost those lives you mentioned." He raised his eyes to meet hers once more.
A gentle look came into Sarabi's features. "Simba, I am not saying what you have done up till now is wrong. To the contrary I was never more proud of you."
His eyes searched hers. "But you said."
She smiled softly, "Only to try and pull you out of this stupor. There comes a time when decisions have to be made, some are just more harder than others. And I know Mufusa would have been proud of you too."
"How can you know that." He sighed. "I've tried so hard to."
"Simba." She interrupted him with a shake of her head, and guided him with a kinder paw to the water's edge.
Slowly Simba peered into the placid water, which was nothing like what he felt inside.
"You can't find your father in a reflection," Sarabi said simply. "He's in you, that's where it matters, and that why you needn't try so hard."
"I was once told that." He looked back at her surprised. "You knew!"
The lioness at that moment seemed wiser than her years, than all ages. "The savannah likes to talk."
"I seem to have forgotten that," Simba said, half to himself.
"What, about the savannah," Sarabi pressed him gently.
"No, about my father, what you said."
"It seems to me that you think of him too much. Oh, I am not saying it isn't right to remember him, but the living are the ones that are truly here for us. Like Nala, she needs you finding her, not sitting here thinking about it."
Something settled inside of Simba, that had been off kilter for a long time. The look he sent his mother said it all, yet she was not quite finished.
"You are not only Mufasa's son. You're mine too," she said softly. You can't let a life slide away while wondering how others think you should live it."
That did it, Simba sprang forward in the knowledge he couldn't waste another moment. However as he went past Sarabi, he pressed his nose into hers to say, "Thank you mother, I needed to hear that." he faltered as if trying to find the right words.
The expression in her eyes told him he didn't need to. He bounded away through grass which suddenly felt less resistant.
She laughed after him, "Where are you going!"
Came back the cry, "To find them! I'll be back at dawn, and Zaza has till then!"
She sat motionless, yet happy, till his form had faded from view. Upon which she turned back to the water, needing to take a few laps.
"At least he's not gone to 'find himself' also," she murmured.
And soon the water's edge was deserted once more as a second set of paws carried their owner away, though at a far slower pace than had the Lion King's.