THE SCARRED KING AND QUEEN NALA - Ch XI

Last Time -

Nala gave birth to a small and weak daughter. King Scar refused to give the cub a chance, and tossed her aside. Another lioness, however, found the young cub before her death, and has promised she will fine a home at edge of the Pridelands.

Notes -

Hope you enjoyed m' last chappiepoo. Now, the moment you've all been waiting for... although realize that it might be bad, because I was listening to the soundtrack to "My Fair Lady" whilst I wrote this, and so I was a bit distracted o.o

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Large and innocent optics gazed at frightful, barren images surrounding. Pelt billowed slightly in a small breeze that had collected about the terra in which she lay. She was the daughter of King Scar and Queen Nala, pelt of a deep light brown, eyes of blue.

Memories of harsh words filled her. The tiny lioness had not known the meaning of the words, but such phrases had sounded threatening by the loud and harsh, and sometimes desperate voices. Those had come from a darker, menacing-looking lion, and a creamy beige lioness. Although, she also remembered another voice; one much calmer and nicer, though seemingly startled at first. This had belonged to another lioness, who had taken her in her maw and dumped her here. In that case, could she really have been that kind?

Paws placed over forehead in frustration, a young lion rolled upon his opposite side for at least the thirtieth time that night. A sigh came from his throat, and he released mitts, raising crania to observe the sky. He sighed.

It was nearing morning, for the beginnings of dawn were approaching the massive dark coat above. Under another circumstance, he might've admired the sight above him. The kings of the past were fading, surredering to another day and another generation, and the lower sky glowed with a faint light. Only just above ground and no higher, a blinding light could be glimpsed. As the young lion's gaze turned toward this, he blinked, squinting so as not to damage his eyes.

This lion had a pelt of golden-brown, orbs and mane of a shade of red. Rather small he was, for a lion his age, and perhaps a bit thin. However, he was indeed reasonably attractive. Though, perhaps this ran in his blood, for his father Mufasa and mother Sarabi had been lovely as well. Not to mention his royalty.

He went by the name of Simba. Back in his home-kingdom, he would be known as Prince Simba. For his father had been the king, his mother the queen.

Unfortunately, on this night the highlights rounding his eyes shone a shade of purple. The thoughts flooding his mind were of frustration and doubt. For sleep was not possible.

This behavior had been occuring increasingly for the young lion. After hours, he'd lay with paws placed upon crania, unable to settle. For years, he'd been completely worriless, never thinking of his former home with his parents and friends. Now, he thought of Nala, of his mother and father, and even his somewhat tyrranical uncle at least half of his waking hours.

He remembered every day the day he watched from a high ledge as his father flew toward the ground, screaming in horror and fear. Simba thought of how his own scream combined with that of his father. The thought of the death of a parent scared him more than he could have thought leoninely possible.

In addition, he remembered a wonderful playmate of his cub-hood — Nala. She had been delightful; amusing, friendly, understanding... and being incredibly gorgeous didn't hurt either.

These thoughts on the mind once more, he regained his original position. Letting a sigh escape escape his lips once more, he so wished he were not so alone on these late, sleepless nights.