THE SCARRED KING AND QUEEN NALA - Ch X

Notes -

Heh heh, there's a little scene in here with Nala and Scar... and I used the word goo! I just had to do it! I've gathered quite the collection of non-sulken words for this chapter, actually — I mean, "goo" is SO un-sulkenwolfpup!

Also, the line, "throw away life, why don't you" is developed from something a good friend of mine who would like to be known as Tamu said.

Now, to respond to my gorgeous reviewers.

Bounding Jackalope: Oh good, a longer review this time. Heh heh, you mentioned Simba... and that gave me an idea!

narfgirl: Trust me, I WILL get around to reviewing Memoirs of a Blue Bird. I will. Eh heh xD

SunRise19: Aw man, sunny21 (sorry, just had to call ya that) don't leave me! Review this chapter, or you shall perish. Oh, and good luck with TLKoB! I always felt very sorry for you for wanting to see it so much. It's always the younger authors who've seen it 4 times xP You know, like me.

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The queen of the Pridelands lay upon her promontory; a still figure, lids poised upon vibrant green optics. A large, barrel-like bulge enlarged her.

She was pregnant. Young Nala had been so for quite the time now, and King Scar had gone to pacing about his lair in his unbearable impatience. The due-date was soon... very soon... too soon, as far as the King was concerned.

Much as he tried to hide it, King Scar was much like any other expectant father to a new heir. He did, indeed, worry for his son or daughter, biting his lip for hours straight until the tang of blood filled his mouth unpleasantly.

But what could he do? His young queen was pregnant, expecting any day now... Scar felt he had every reason to worry.

Contrarily to the wave of life in recent days, the time passed unusually slowly, far as the King could tell.

A groan could be heard from within Scar's lair. Gasps and moans and sobs erupted from within.

"What have you done to her?" inquired Sarabi, as she gaped at Scar.

"Nothing!" the King gave a screech, clearly angered by Sarabi's accusation. "My daughter is giving birth to a new generation!"

No longer able to hold within him the fury he felt toward Sarabi, he flashed claws, letting them smack Sarabi's forehead with great force. Sarabi, diminished, allowed herself to sink to the ground, lightly massaging Scar's target — her face.

Without another word, the two infuriated lions fled the scene; dark one heading for his lair while the other strutted toward the rest of the pride.

After several screams, Scar's pace quickened in his journey back to his lair.

Upon his arrival, he spotted a panting and sobbing Nala, hind paws spread behind her, features pitifully screwed, forepaws poised beneath crania. It took him several more seconds to find a sopping, goo-coated mess. It was darker than the pelt of Nala, though lighter than the king's own. After a few confusing moments, it dawned upon the King that this hairball was his heir.

"Nala?" his voice was tentative, as though afraid. "Are you all right?"

A sob erupted from Nala. "No," she confessed, "Father, it was horrible."

Scar forced a look of sympathy, as he made his way toward his new cub. Drawing claws, he whisked the cub to face underside-up, where he glimpsed its shallow breathing. "It's a girl," he announced. "And it's weak. It will not survive."

"How can you be so sure —"

"Nala! I did not make you my queen to disobey my command! She will die anyway." Without another word on the matter, King Scar strutted toward the tip of Pride Rock.

"NO!" screamed Scar's disappointed queen. "You mustn't! I spent months creating that little masterpiece! She is a work of art!"

But Scar would not listen. Instead, he spoke menacingly to the cub. "If you were a strong, able female, this would be your future land," he began, "as it is, it shall be known as the death bed of Nala's firstborn!"

No matter Nala's loud protests, Scar straightened his neck to its full extent, paws tightly gripping the ground beneath him, and loosened his grip on the young ke.

With a small shriek, as her voice box had only now begun to develop, the tiny femme fell.

With remarkable speed, Nala waddled to the tip of Pride Rock. She gave a scream at her mate's cruelty. "Now you've killed her!" She accused, swiping at the King's features as she had the day she had been given her dead daughter. "How could you? She was a living thing! Throw away life, why don't you!"

Strutting toward the cave, Nala held back her tears. When she regained her place lying within the depths of the lair, her droplets of water and perspiration erupted. Her daughter, whom she had spent months on, had been mercilessly and bloodthirstily murdered by her own mate — her own father. The one who had given it to her in the first place to lay this cub.

A somewhat large lioness bathed in the golden sunlight of the day. Twas a treat, the Pridelands only very rarely recieved any sun at all. Small was the smile planted upon her features, but regardless, it was a sign of happiness — one of the few.

However, she was awoken from a light slumber by a large and somewhat painful "plunk" atop her side. With an "oof" the lioness scrambled half-way to her paws, spying the source of the discomforting plop.

It wasn't hard to spot. The source of her startling wake-up call was a small lioness. Tiny, as though born that day. Immediately, a feeling of relief came upon her. Had it not been for her somewhat soft landing, the cub surely would've died — but she was alive!

"I can't raise you," she informed the cub, "and I don't know who you belong to." The lioness sighed. "Perhaps I shall take you to the edge of the land, hopefully you can find an owner there."

A small laugh came from the young and foolish little cub. The older lioness smiled warmly. "Yes," she confirmed, "I believe I will."

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