I – abadan
The sun had set and
from memory Simba knew the stars were beginning to show themselves.
His nose twitched, and he lay down on the grass under a tall,
thick-trunked tree. He yawned, stretching his paws, then settled his
head between his paws and closed his eyes. The wind ruffled his
growing mane lazily.
He heard them before they called his name. He barely restrained a growl. He had told them yesterday that he did not want to stargaze, not today, not tomorrow, not the day after that or the day after that.
"Simba!"
Before they could see him, he zipped into the bushes and settled down again.
"Simba!"
Let them call. He never wanted to see the stars again.
II – manyotakwepa
"Please, Simba, you've been avoiding the stars since forever," Pumbaa wheedled.
"Yeah, kid, what's so bad about the stars? They're just…up there sitting pretty," Timon continued.
Simba turned his back on them, feeling the wind trying to push him toward them. He shook his mane angrily, and stalked to the watering hole. He could hear Timon's exasperated sigh and Pumbaa's sniff. It did not matter. On this, he would not bend. This was one thing that 'hakuna matata' could not cure.
III – wafalme
The stars made him nervous and ashamed. The great kings of the past look down on us from those stars. His father was looking down on him from those stars. His father was looking down on him and cursing the day he had been born.
His father was looking down on him from the stars instead of from Pride Rock. His father was up there in the stars because of him.
His father had died because of him.
Whenever you feel alone, remember that those kings will always be there to guide you. And so will I.
He did not want the stars' silent counsel. He did not want the old kings' advice. He wanted his father.
But his father wasn't there to guide him. And it was his fault.
The stars made him nervous and ashamed because somewhere up there his father was looking down on him and asking him why he had killed his own flesh and blood.
IV – asili
"C'mon, kid. They're just stars!" Timon cried.
"Please?" Pumbaa asked, a hitch in his voice. Simba's refusals always put a damper on Timon's mood and then stargazing was no fun.
"Will you leave me alone then?" Simba growled. Years of the same pleas over and over again had finally eaten through his resolve.
Timon and Pumbaa nodded empathetically.
"Fine then."
He followed them silently, listening to their light-hearted banter, and soon could not resist joining in. He was shocked speechless in the middle of a witty comeback when they emerged from the jungle onto a plain of rolling green grasses that wavered in the same wind that ruffled his thick red mane. It looked like someone had pained the sky and sprinkled glittering dust in the drying paint.
He had forgotten how beautiful the stars were, and how overwhelming.
Timon and Pumbaa flopped down on the soft grass and Simba followed suit.
There was silence. The jungle sounds were behind them, and the soft swish of the grass was more a comforting lullabye than noise.
Then, breaking the quiet, Pumbaa's questioning, "Timon?"
"Yeah?" the meerkat answered.
"Ever wonder what those sparkly dots up there are?"
note on titles: I – never, II – avoid the stars, III – kings, IV – beginning
Author's Note: ffn frelled up the formatting, so I did the best I could without separating the drabbles into chapters. To see the original format, copy and paste http/ www. livejournal. com/ users/ emeralddawn/ 29503. html (delete spaces) this link.