...which turned into a scorching hot day in the desert, which we walked through wearily.
"Eliza...I don't...think...I can keep up." gasped Darwin, who flopped on the sand. "Go on...without me!"
"You best do as he says, li'l lady." said a voice.
I looked up at the sky to see bunch of vultures, led by Mzingo, who said. "We'll take good care of your friend down there."
"He's just being over dramatic." I called out. "Besides, we've been through these kinds of deserts before."
"Well, it's your funeral, then." said Mzingo. "But we'll keep in touch."
As he and the other vultures flew off, I took out a canteen of water from my backpack, only to find out that it was empty.
"Darwin, did you drink up all the water?" I asked.
"Well, can't I help it if I'm dying of thirst?" Darwin asked back.
Groaning with frustartion, I turned and saw what appears to be a jungle.
With a sigh of relief, I said. "Hopefully, there should be water over there."
"And more importantly, shade!" exclaimed Darwin as he hurried over to the jungle.
Meanwhile, back at the dry Pride Lands, a mandrill named Rafiki noticed some milkweed floss stirring in the air.
He snatched some of it, took a sniff, and climbed down into his tree, where he poured the milkweed into a turtle shell sifting it around.
As Rafiki examined the milkweed floss while munching on a gourd, a spark of realization came to him.
"Simba? He's...he's alive? He...he...he's alive!"
Rafiki grabbed his staff and hurried to his painting of Simba as a cub, in which he painted a mane over as he laughed in delight.
"It is time!"