Note: I find it funny that there are a few recent writers with the same name. I am a Kari too. Alright, enough with my stupidity, and on with the story!

Timon gritted his teeth and reached through the bars, pushing at the lever that kept the door closed. He jiggled it, but it would not budge. Sighing and pulling his arm back inside the cage, Timon watched with a frown as the girl stood up from Pumbaa's cage and left with the other human. Again, they were alone, and Timon shot a look at the ferret in the cage next to him.

"I need to get to him."

Chelsea gave Pumbaa a quick look, before turning back to Timon. "Good luck trying to get that door open."

Timon sighed and wandered over to the bowl in the corner, gazing down at the brown pellets miserably. He was hungry—but not THAT hungry. "I can't stay in here. I have to get out... Pumbaa too."

"If he's alive," she muttered.

Looking up, Timon glared at her. "Thanks for reminding me of that."

"Touchy," she snorted, rolling her eyes. She leisurely strolled through her cage, adding, "Well if it helps any... that WAS my old cage..." She stopped and jerked her head toward the far upper corner of the cage, and Timon turned his head to look at what she was gesturing to. "The gap between the bars is bigger there. I used to squeeze out all the time before they put me in this cage."

Timon furrowed his brow and gave the funny girl a look, mumbling, "You could have told me earlier."

"You didn't ask, I didn't tell."

Timon put his hands on his hips and shook a finger at her. "There's something funny about you." After her small shrug, Timon turned and went for the corner. He gripped the bars and started his ascend up the wall carefully. Once he reached the corner, he poked his head through with a little difficultly, looped his arms in and then pushed his lean body through the rest of the way.

"Pays be limber, don't it?" he heard her say.

Timon just rolled his eyes and climbed down on the other side, planting his feet firmly on the wooden slab their cages sat on. Now... to get to the ground. Timon gulped as he leaned over the edge, staring down at the large leap.

"Just do it," Chelsea cheered, with a large ridiculous smile.

"You're enjoying this too much," Timon griped. Carefully, he got down on his knees and turned himself around, shimmying his backside off the table so he dangled there. Silently counting to three, he let go and let himself fall the rest of the way. He landed with a loud 'oof' and a puff of dirt.

"Woo hoo!" Chelsea hollered from up top, clapping. "Do it again!"

Ignoring her, Timon got up and brushed himself off, quickly trotting over to his friend's cage. The bars to Pumbaa's cage were much larger than his and he easily squeezed through, circling around the warthog to face him.

"Pumbaa?" Timon asked, putting a paw on his friend's snout. "Pumbaa, are you okay?"

He was rewarded with a low groan and Timon's face lit with a smile. Running around him, he cupped his mouth and shouted to Chelsea, "He's breathing!"

"Great!" she grinned, clutching the bars to her cage. She frowned a moment, then added, "That's good, right?"

Timon furrowed his brow at her, but didn't say anything, returning to his friend's aid. He placed his paw on Pumbaa's hoof and shook it a little, urging, "C'mon, you gotta wake up, buddy."

"Timon?" Pumbaa asked groggily.

"Yeah, Pumbaa, it's me."

"What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure. My source tells me we have been caught by humans. But, the source ain't so reliable." Timon swirled a finger around his temple, adding, "I think captivity has made her a little wacky."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Timon clipped. "C'mon, I need you to get up."

"Um, hello?" Chelsea called.

Timon froze and ran around Pumbaa, looking at her in question. "What is it?"

Chelsea pointed toward the entrance of the tent, her eyes wide and her mouth pursed into a straight line. Timon's eyes darted to the opening and watching fearfully as the male human entered, looking straight at him.

"Uh oh," Timon whispered.