Disaster's In The Air

The Cub, in the Epicenter:

Simba knew he was out of his mind. This storm seemed to be curled around him. Heavy droplets stung his back, the harsh panting of his own body was lost beneath the rolling thunder, and the lighting fractured into hundreds of tiny needles when it came down, like a blind beast feeling around, it was combing the lands for him. Eyes bore into him from the darkness, the wind was like the breath of a killer closing in.

Simba ran faster.

Half way back to Pumbaa and Timon, his paws started to slap against water. The earth had reached her point, too waterlogged to take anymore. The water table had finally arrived at the surface. There were warnings about this, how if the rains were violent and fast, the Lowlands would quickly come to show why it was called such.

Slaps became splashes, and around the watercourses and swamps, each step was a slosh. They were warned by the elders that the quiet nights were at their end, and the floods were on their way. But the warm showers continued and the gentle wind never grew suspicious.

Now it was all coming at once. The rivers surged and the banks groaned, but the fact was, the rivers were already overflowing from those good gentle rains. Simba stopped to listen as a river, somewhere in the dark before him, started to rush and roar like a rapid. He had crossed it an hour ago, and it had been quiet, like a tired calf napping in the shade.

There was a wave, rain that had fallen many miles upstream finally hitting, and the water splashed around him, clambering up to tickle his belly. Lighting hit close by, deafening all noise and illuminating the river in half-second brilliance. Simba took a step forward, then stopped as he felt the river push back, resisting him. Pupils, expanded to their peak, darted around the screaming storm. His chest started to fell cold as it surged and surged, clawing up him and leaning into him.

Careful to keep his balance against the river, Simba tried to pull himself out of the flood.

What of the party by the lake? Many of the rivers lead into it, and would be filling it brutally fast. Where would they hurry once it started to lap against them? The slopes of the jungle were the only true risen land, but they were far, and the herds were huge. It would become crowded, there would we a mad rush... a stampede. Simba carefully backed out away from the river, each step carefully weighed. A few screams drifted over from the other side, but they were shushed by the storm.

He was near the edge, where the water only came to his knees, when someone came racing along. It happened too quick for Simba to pick what species they were. A few bodies whizzed past him, two leapt and cleared him in the last moment, one did not. His breath was knocked from him as he was hit and spun, legs tangled over him and hooves dug in. The animal thrashed in panic and battered him over the head by mistake, almost regaining its balance in time for another herd mate to slam into them and start the thrashing over again. Simba squirmed his head above water, gasping large breaths that he often had to choke on as their thrashing made wild waves. Yanking his limbs away, Simba used all his strength to shove them harshly away. Shrill screams started when they felt his cold pads and sharp claws against their sides, realising that the small body they were tumbling over was not a hoofed heard mate.

Their screams sent the others splitting around the area, leaping five meters clear in confused fear. They quickly found their feet and ran, leaving him to shakily get to his paws, water running off him and rain falling with a splat on a soaked and blackened coat. He could feel slimy mud in his armpits as he moved away, letting him know that the rest of him was most likely covered after being smashed and squashed.

His dismal eyesight led him to a tree, but he could not see how tall it was or where its branches began. With the water rising more and more, often successfully tugging him off balance, Simba gripped the rough trunk in his paws and jumped up without another thought. Five jumps later his muscles strained to continue. Shaking arms and shoulders tried to hold him to the trunk and not go tumbling backwards.

If felt like the wind condensed and funnelled through the valley then, making the tree splinter and lean as the weather leaned against it. Simba squinted against the rain, alternating between eyes that still stung from the mud wash. Just as his limps were going faint and his claws losing hold, lighting crackled across the horizon, lighting up the fork of the tree, five inches above where his claws clung with desperation. Easing up slowly and with great effort, Simba managed to hook himself over like a clump of limp waterweed.

Sometimes he shifted to ease the weight off his ribs, often he inched a little more, searching for a more comfortable position. For half the night he stayed up there, cold and shivering, watching the lighting and listening to the storm. Sometimes he would hear splashing around below, somebeast wheezing and mewing. He should have stayed up there for a long time, days if needed, for the water to calm and the storm to lift. He would have, if not for a terrible event that happened during the deep night.

The lighting grew rapid, a strike every other second, capturing the land in rapid stills. This unfortunately coincided with the beings of the rumbles, giving Simba a teasing show as a slice of the jungle gave way and sank into the Lowlands. The earth shiver just like her animals now, the trees rattled, old branches falling as they shook like dogs after a swim. The flood swirled and flipped, and thunder, for the first time, was out roared.

The mountain was falling apart. Another of her cliffs sank as the slopes were crushed in the earth slide, a trickle effect happening across her gut as rock slipped away in the rain.

It was only a small part, like one of her toes had been lost, but it was a terrifyingly huge toe which crumbled and rolled like an eagle from the clouds into the grass. Lighting struck at the landslide, casting the nightmare in light again, and Simba could see how huge rocks were falling, flipping down the mountainside like toys, metal from deep underground was thrown up and the lighting licked at it like a thirsty beast, twice, thrice, almost racing each other to slash out at the crumbling mountain. It may have been a trick caused by his horror or something else, but the plasma white started to turn purple and red, striking at the mountainside like it was trying to claw out the heart. Boulders big enough that boulder was not a suitable word, were pushed down and turned around, flipping over before being covered in mud and earth. It was like the bones of the mountain were being ripped out and thrown. His hungry ancestors coming down from the stars, slashing at his home in rage, killing her and pulling out the entrails.

That was the last he saw, because the lighting never struck again, but the rumbling continued, the tree trembling along with him as the night was filled with the sound of old bones grinding.

The wind died, the lighting went, the clouds calmed and only the sound of violent sheets of rain remained. Warmth returned to his body and the patter of rain against the tree's canopy filled his deafened ears.

Trembling, Simba went to jump down in shock. His body was too weak to cling so he fell, tumbling over and over until he slammed into the water, falling still as he went and went, until landing against the grass with a soft touch.

The water was deep. He spun and kicked against the ground, surging up and breaking the surface with the tail end of a startled cry. He was already moving, the current snatching him, pulling him down along the river's course. The tops of bushes snatched at his kicking feet as he went by.

It was quiet enough to hear the river now, the splashes as it went over a bank or dragged around a tree trunk. Simba threw his strength into his kicks, managing to skim by a tree, but failing to get a hold of its smooth bank, wet and slippery in the water. Simba knew that water ran to lower land, and knew he was only being taken into deeper and deeper floodwater. He thrashed and thrashed, praying for the feel of ground under his outstretched paws. There had to be a rise, a slope, a bank, something. But if anything like that existed, than the floodwater twirled and split around it, carrying him along like a leaf in the wind.

It a quiet enough to hear bellows a tiny distance away, a herd scrambling as they tried to keep together through the darkness. Simba shouted out, but they did not hear him over their own noise. The clouds parted by a fraction, enough for Simba's eyes to capture the weak moonlight and scrambled for a tree he could see rising from the water. He missed it by a mile, the current pushing him quickly by it.

After that effort, he started to tire. Water started to dunk him under, and when he did have time to breath, it splashed up and got in his lungs, making him cough and lose the breath he had struggled for. His legs stung and his core was so exhausted he felt sick. Underneath the surface, it was quiet and it all seemed so calm.

Simba was sure that this was the point at which he was meant to die, but he did not. It had been a long time since his last proper breath, but he still managed to go on. Muscles hurt, but they did not go faint and fail him. As he felt his own energy slipping, warmth crept in and kept him going. A different heat filled his body. Simba stopped franticly struggling, and with careful bunching of his strength, manage to keep himself above the surface once more. It was as if he had tapped into a last resource, the same emergency reserve that had fuelled him across the sands, that kept him going for nights on end. He paddled with long strokes, creeping across the current towards the calmer fringes until, finally, as if he had been electrocuted, his paws fluttered against ground.

Then the current swept him over the ground, and carried him onwards.

But he was close! It was getting shallower, he could see a bank of land, and the trees were thick here, easy for him to swim into and get caught between. Their thin upper branches offered him a moment to catch his breath before his weight snapped them off and the force of the water carried him on.

The longer it went on, the weaker he got, but it was never like he truly came close to drowning. At one point a small antelope's body had been caught around a tree, it's body lukewarm as he pressed against it. Concentrating on getting air into his lungs rather than the creature's limp body, he was able to avoid the panic from settling in once more. If he was going to get out of this, he needed to be calm. Focused, determined, calm.

Eventually his paws made contact and managed to stay. He dug and kicked, leaping through the water as it went from neck to chest to knees... soon it was just his paws and the tip of his tail that the water dragged on. He was unbelievably heavy, and as soon as the water was shallow enough, he fell into the mud and wheezed.

The rain was calm and the water level no longer grew. He lay for a long time, the emergency reservoir retreating quickly from his body once it was no longer needed, leaving his body as weak as it had ever been.

Simba lay there for a long time, enjoying his ability to breath, and marvelling at the fact that he couldn't feel most of his body. It if wasn't on fire, than it was numb and wasted. It was like running up the last sand dune all over again, and seeing the twinkle of green far off in the hazy day.


A Great-Grandmother Elephant, somewhere Close By:

Tonight was a cruel irony. It was meant to be a celebration of the life-giving rains. There should have been parties and ceremonies, song and dance, friends should have been made and love found. Instead, there was this.

She crossed from bank to bank, the water rising to touch her hanging belly, but never rising anymore. It was shocking how deep it had gotten, and so quickly. If it was this high on her, than it could easily swallow most. She was thankful that the herd had left for the Outerlands that afternoon, her small grandson would have been in great danger and her daughters in panic. The land out there was higher, safe for them, but for those in the Lowlands that high land was the very reason for this disaster. It trapped them in a bowl.

Masikio crossed diligently in her footsteps, the danger of the storm not lost to her, even when her grandmother had tried her best to seem calm about it all. Arusha was blessed with permanent water because of its rains, but paid the price every few years with the floods.

"Masikio," she called to her grandchild as they reach the other bank and rose from the water. "My eyes are old, and this night is darker than most. Could you lead the rest of the way?"

Her grandchild paused, peered from her grandmother to the night, then nodded her head firmly.

"It is lighter than it was before, some things are clearer now." With that said, Masikio walked past her before pausing. Her ears flapped in confusion, for just a minute, before she picked a direction and followed it. Masikio stuck to the thin bank, searching for a narrow crossing. In a normal river, narrow crossing tended to be deeper, but she let Masikio continue, knowing that with the flood water, the normal rules were useless.

Even the hippos had ran from the water, a stack of them had clambered onto the bank, flattening the grass that covered the thin island. A few grunted and glared as they approached, but upon seeing the size of her, wisely let them go. Further up Masikio stepped into the water, each footstep careful and tested before the next. It was just as she had been doing all night, ever since the water rose, and she was glad to see Masikio had learnt.

Above, in the clouds, a million gnu ran, their spirits twirling and twisting around. Gnu were not common here, they lay off the course of the Great Migration. The storm would have built in a faraway land, then flown through the sky for here. Why? Why did the migration come here, they were the biggest force on earth, yet they had come to corral around Arusha? Sometimes a white one would be charging amongst them, leading a new wave made up of a fresh million. His form pure white, glowing as he was whisked along in the wind. Or perhaps, the wind was whisked along by him. Static built in the sky as their coats brushed and their hooves struck the clouds, but the white's held the lightning back, pulling the current into the clouds and keeping the storm calm.

She raised her heavy head, craning up to stare with wonder at the turmoil above. It was too chaotic to pick out much than a flash of colour, but she could feel it.

Close by, along the flood water's edge, something popped and seeped like lava underwater. The colour from the spirits shone over her wrinkles, and the growing red from the water's edge started to play shadows across her face.

"Masikio..." her granddaughter pulled short at the low grumble. She turned to look back with worry. The child could not see anything, but she was feeling it, however slight. It was visible in the way her eyes fearfully darted over the river, her instincts shrieking at the invisible crowd that swarmed the lands tonight.

Stepping off without a word, she headed for where the water grumbled and grew. Something flashed in the dark, a beam of light tracing the outline of long spiral horns. Her flat feet squashed the soggy earth beneath her, making the ground buckle as she drew to the small form that lay on the shore.

Her granddaughter whispered the name, shock making her gasp. So it was him, the little lion friend. The mysterious cub. Masikio froze and stayed, but she on the other hand, crept closer. Her eyes watched the way the nature around him shuddered.

The beast beside his body looked up, golden eyes flashing in among a black body, his gaze making her frown. Spirits did not look like that. He was a normal sized beast, unusual because spirits were always gigantic. His dark body was made out of a ghostly cloud. There was no ethereal glow, as souls did, and he was not an aspect of nature, as the legends tended to be, their power unable to be channelled into a wispy form. He was transparent, and a strange thread of energy was strung from him to the cub. A ghost, wavering in and out of vision, his image dissolving where the rain fell through him. He dimmed as she watched on, until he pulled away, the thread dissolving instantly. With one last look at the cub by his hooves and a nod to the river, the ghost was blow away in a wind, along with every other spirit. From the water, a shape with red eyes rose, her size shrinking as she drew to shore. It was like a wave, coming in, before easing and lying against the bank. Her arms went either side of the cub, whose unconscious body still trailed in the water. Features became clear as the water calmed, lazily gathering like a giant sized droplet on a giant sized petal.

The storm was gone. Not from the land, just from this place, for now. Masikio shuffled warily behind her, but held still and silent. The natural form of this more powerful spirit would be visible to her, but the child did not startle. She felt pride at how her grandchild held herself, no matter how bizarre tonight was becoming. The spirit's formation had blown the horde away, the wind had pushed them back and thrown them far, calm weather settling as she herself settled on the shore.

The spirit looked upon the cub in her arms. The red of her eyes washed along her river form, darkening the further it went until becoming a deep purple that blended into the floods. Then, she inched her head up, to look upon her.

"Elephant." To see a lion spirit was a rare thing. And this one... to make her form from the water... to appear in a gust that pushed even the migration back... she tried to keep the stutter from her voice as she swallowed and replied.

"Your Majesty." It was lucky that the storm had calmed around them, because her whisper would not have been heard otherwise. The Queen's eyes closed as the name was said, perhaps relishing the sound of it after so long. There were not many beasts left who were old enough to recognise her.

"I'm in need of your help, Old One." She turned back down to gaze upon her flesh and blood. The matriarch's ears twitched in disbelief.

"Me? Help you?" After a moment of confused silence, her tongue twisted as she rushed to continue. "I – Ah - would be honoured! I - anything you need, Your Majesty." The lioness's bottomless eyes flashed dangerously at the title, now twice said in such a short time.

"Season change, beasts change, words change, loyalties change. Only the elephant remains. The sands could blow in, and the mountains could crumble, and your lot would still remain the same as you were before. What is it like, being so old? You must have been around when my great-great grandmother was born, and now you were here with my grandcub at your feet."

"It was a great privilege to grow so old. You honour me too much with that question, it makes me feel the debt even more."

Her glowing form fluttered in the dark as the river rushed and surged. The storm was returning.

"Yes, I was wondering if you would point that out. I wonder just how truthful that legend is, the Kings of Old gifting your kind with fifty years at the cost of their own fifty. You and the tortoise have grown heavy with time, perhaps the blessing my forefathers intended is in truth a burden."

"If it has become that, than it is one I shoulder with pride."

Uru's head cocked to and fro, weighing the beast in front of her.

"They told me you were a smart one."

"Just an old one."

Uru laughed, her voice hoarse and deep.

"My sons, you think they would grow wise with age, but it has done nothing but weary them. And my grandcubs...one is too young to know, this one is too sad to realise. A curse has settled upon my pride, it seems."

"You sound terribly worried for an all powerful being, Your Majesty." Uru smirked at her words, her watery lips peeling back to reveal large fangs that looked far more real than the rest of her.

"Spirits are just smoke on the wind." The Queen dimmed at her own admission, memories churning in her mind. She couldn't help but blink at the lioness in bewilderment.

"Ah, that explains why tonight has been so calm."

Uru's head shot up, another smirk, this one much more feral grew. It seemed to be her favourite expression.

"I suppose smoke can burn the eyes a little, but what more than that?"

"Suffocate them? In the fires, smoke kills more than flame." Uru barked with laughter at the suggestion.

"Stop being so literal! How am I meant to seemed mysterious and all knowing while you're standing over there poking holes in my metaphors?"

"Ah, sorry."

"Ah, sorry she says. Pfft." Uru's eyes drifted off to another in their midst, her ears rotating back as she relaxed. It was impossible to pick what the new presence was, since it was another transparent ghostly spirit, but this one looked to be weak and out of control. The cloud shifted and fell constantly as it tried to hold form.

"Is that a ghost?" She asked the Queen.

"Ghost? No, just a dreamwalker. This one has only just begun to discover it's powers, so it is embarrassingly weak. Their different because their souls still remains in bodies. They are very much alive."

"Oh." She looked on with curiosity as the shifting walker floated closer to Uru and Simba. "Who is that?"

"I do not know, probably some spirit-talker. I only know of three, the gnu, kudu and ape, and all their images are clear when they walk. Maybe it is this little one's familiar, a young animal trying to grasp their powers." A plume of smoke drifted closer to Uru's river form, making the old queen size the cloud up. "They seemed to have taken a liking to me, following me all over the place since they first popped up." Uru grumbled and a vein pulsed in her forehead. Simba groaned between her paws. At the sound the dreamwalker puffed away, their hold on their power lost when startled. "He is waking, I must go. When he is conscious, our spirits clash, and my power goes unstable." Her form started to lose its edges and peel back, inch by inch.

The Queen jumped, remembering her original reason for materialising. "What I ask of you is nothing too specific, no, just look after him. I know this is a lot to ask of one with such finite time left, but you're the most trustworthy."

"It is precisely because I have such little time left that I accept with pleasure." She drew even closer and bent to scoop Simba up from the bank. Wrapping her trunk around his chest tenderly, she gazed down as he started to shift and regain consciousness.

"Farewell," Uru's voice gurgled as she sunk into the river, her red glow sinking to the bottom and fading away.

"A finite time? Grandmother, the herd knows you have only years left, but, I thought, at least a year? What is going on!" Of course Masikio would choose to focus on that particular bit of information.

"Well, maybe it was more like months. But I have a feeling these last few months are going to be the longest of my life. I'm a retainer to a king now, not just a common kind either"

"King? That river monster you called Queen Uru, and she called Simba her grandcub, but, that whole conversation confused me grandmother." Her eyes fluttered between glaring at her grandmother and gazing at Simba's hanging body with concern.

"You'll hurt his ribs like that. Lay him across my back. He is used to riding up there." Her face twitched into a slight scowl, holding Simba closer to her body unconsciously.

"He might fall." Her words were definite, and she started to walk away with care as the storm returned and began to patter against her back once more. Masikio grumbled from beside her.

"He is already struggling against your hold. What if he cannot easily breathe like that?"

After three seconds of careful consideration, she laid Simba between Masikio shoulders as tender as she would with a butterfly.

"Alright, retainer, where do you want to take this king?" She nodded along to her own thoughts, ignoring the way Masikio was eyeballing her. The river had turned into a lioness, yet her granddaughter thought her the strangest thing tonight?

"Our original destination will do. It would be wise to leave for higher lands as quickly as possible." Masikio nodded curtly and stepped to lead the way. Ah, that's right, she had forgotten that Masikio had been given the lead right before the incident. With her thoughts on the original destination, she remembered the reason why they were here. "Masikio." The young elephant stopped and turned to look back at her. "Consider yourself an adult now. I pass you." The look on her face could have rolled a boulder.

"What! But my ceremony!"

"Think of that back there as an ultra-mega ceremony." Most animals would consider that a life-changing encounter. Masikio seemed more annoyed than anything, but she seemed to accept it, silence returning as them began to walk once more.

Someone coughed. It was very tiny. It wasn't hard to guess who.

"Masikio, I want... to go, stop, wait... go to that landslide." She nearly had a heart attack at the King's words. Not even five minutes into being a retainer, and she was faced with this?

"That area will be extremely unstable right now, Your Majesty." Her words were frosty, trying to reprime him from that foolish idea, but they were just met with a far colder response.

"Don't call me that." He had gathered his breath back, and was now starting to hold his head up as he squirmed for a better position on Masikio's flexing back.

"Of course, Young Simba."

Young Simba turned to scowl at her, his red eyes flashing through the night. Luckily Masikio spoke up before his suspicious look turned into suspicious words.

"Hey, Simbuddy? How come you were all flaked out? I thought you were a great swimmer?"

"That wasn't ordinary water, you idiot."

Masikio's whole frame shook as she laughed.

"You can say that again!"

"You idiot..."

"Huh? Waa, not that!"

Maybe her granddaughter was not wise. Maybe she was just dense.

She thought that she had won the argument. Young Simba had dropped it after Masikio distracted him, so she considered that he had simply thought better after her warning. Due to the dark night and her failing eyes, it was not until much later, when Masikio was leading her up a crumbling slope, that she realised.

What was she thinking? Of course he wouldn't just drop it, of course Masikio was going to listen to the king, her friend, over her annoying grandmother who seems to have now finally lost it. How did she not notice the direction change sooner? Masikio must have kept it subtle, using the confused on the changed land to her advantage.

Simba leapt from Masikio's back, stumbling a bit on the fall, before gathering himself and racing up the debris, his tail swirling rapidly to keep his balance when the mud slipped from his weight.

"Hello?" Simba called out. His voice echoed along the quiet, freshly toiled land. "Timoooooon? Pumbaaaaaa?" Masikio stepped over a tree trunk and crawled up beside him. The two of them drew further and further away. The unstable ground was a nightmare for someone of her weight to navigate. Their voices carried easily through the storm, so she knew they were not too far ahead.

"Were your parents here?" Something snapped loudly as Masikio stepped on it.

"I know they were close by... there was a whole tonne of animals in this area, for that festival, remember?"

"No. But I remember that this landslide was massive, we've got a lot of ground to cover...well, climb." The wind picked up as the spirit herd charged closer. They swarmed over the destroyed area, scraping at the earth with their hooves.

The big gnu charged up the slope, flying back into the sky, the little antelope weaved between boulders and earth clumps, the light touch of their feet liquefying the mud. They were bringing the rain down with them, their forms splashes of water. Each droplet that fell, a spirit was guiding its path. No doubt Uru had infused the herds with her power. Buffalo thundered by, lowering their heads and smashing into the earth, passing through and disappearing into the slippery ground. It was as if they were carving something, working in harmony to complete a design. Monkeys and warthog's dug into the ground, hippo stamped the mud down and zebra ripped it up. At no point in time was she able to make out any one beast, they all blended together, plasma shared across their hides, their essence fleeting and power weak if it were not being amplified by Uru's storm. There was only so much she could take, and she had been weakened after the conversation with Uru, the presence of the spiritual power knocked her off her feet, her limp body slipping a few meters down before coming to rest against the rocks. The two young ones continued, lost in the intensifying storm.


A Worried Cub, pacing the Pridelands:

Something was definitely wrong. The pride had dealt with rouges before, there was one around the fringes every season or so. Usually it was all quiet calm and professional. This was very different. The other cubs were aware of the tense atmosphere, but they didn't fully grasp it. After all, it wasn't their mother who was busy acting like the devil himself had a score to settle with her. Urgently.

Then the rumours had begun. The males had cornered some sort of lion, there had been some sort of fight. He had that look about it, the look of Sarabi and Diku, the look of Ulan and Benji, and even little Simba once had a touch of that look to him.

Lakelander.

As soon as he heard that, nothing could hold him back.

"Benji." His sister hurriedly tried to pretend she hadn't been jolted out of sleep. Who could possibly drift off at a time like this? "Benji, I was talking to you." The two boys beside him sniggered. They had told him not to bring Benji along, after all, she was a yucky girl. But he thought that this concerned her to, with mother's sleepless state and all. He thought she would at least have some interest.

"Yeah. And I was taking a nap. We don't all get what we want."

Maiming sibling frowned upon. Maiming. Sibling. Frowned. Upon

The sound of Enma's tail thrashing against the ground brought him out of the mediative state.

"You can leave, you know?" Said lion snapped. "Why did you have to come? Sade would have been way better. Even the she-devil would have been better." Ulan saw the way his sister's eyes flashed, and braced himself for all out war. As sure as the sun would rise, his sister and Enma would find some way to have a fight.

If it had been a few weeks ago. He would have laughed at the idea. But in that short time, a time which felt like eternity, it had become a constant fixture. Wake up. Bathe. Sun on the rocks. Enma happens to stroll by (considering that they, you know, lived together, poor Enma never stood a chance) Benji sees him, starts insulting him, he naturally fights back, and just like that his day is ruined.

He remembers the first fight. He had just stood there and gawked at how his sister tensed and snarled while calling him every name under the sun. Tensed. Benji. His sister had never been fired up, not in her whole entire life. Benji was too lazy to bother, and the notion she would actually expend the effort it took to hate someone was ludicrous. So this was all quite mindboggling. Enma had never treated Benji any different to how he treated all the other cubs. So he was at a lost to what the guy had done to deserve this. As long as they stayed out of his business and got out of his way, there was no need for trouble. Being a fair bit older than them, it had definitely given Enma the opinion that he was too good to bother with the 'babies'. Unless your name was Nala, then you could look forward to a few glares and sly insults. He had picked on her a whole lot less after little Simba's death, so maybe he did have a conscious buried in there somewhere?

Thankfully the impending death match was cut short by the arrival of Adesola and Adejola.

"Sola, Jola, glad you could make it!" Ulan shouted purposefully, his words drowning out the highly inappropriate word Benji had sniped.

"Shh! A bit quieter would you? We're still pretty close to the rock." The two brothers jogged forward, one looking worriedly behind him while the other's eyes scanned side to side. They were identical in size to one another, even their blue eyes looked the same. At night time it was hard to tell them apart. However, on a bright day like this, there was one glaring difference. Jola's coat was the same pale fawn of his late father's family, a colour which he shared with his two troublesome cousins Nala and Berta. The markings that patterned his cheeks and neck were nearly white in colour; they would have been striking if they weren't so faint.

Sola's fur on the other hand was darker, like a muddy shade of Mufasa's golden. Sometimes the sun would catch at the right angle and the gold would beam, but mostly he could be described as chestnut. His stripes were dark orange and slightly different to his brothers, running over his shoulders and chest rather than head and neck. He got the bizarre colour from his mother, who had come from an ally pride, a small family to the South. They were distantly related to the Pridelanders, and over time their golden coats had deepened and rusted.

"Man, sneaking out is way easier than it used to be." Sola said, the white fur that framed his eyes glinting under the moon. As they reached the gathering, a dark chuckle filled the air. Ulan scanned their surroundings, his eyes searching through the grass and rocks.

"Adult?" someone whispered. The chuckles grew even more. What adult would chuckle that darkly in a situation like this. King Scar? No. "The rouge?" Someone drew in a sharp breath.

"He wouldn't dare this close to the rock... would he?" Kalifa's quiet ponderings were broken when the spy spoke.

"Look at you all quaking like ducklings. And you really think you can stand up to the rouge, acting like this?" Every recognised the voice at the same time, and rolled their eyes as one when a young lionesses jumped out of the long grass.

"Fools!" She slammed to a halt before them, a self satisfied smirk on her face. Half looked down at their paws and the others glared. Benji did neither, instead she was busy struggling to keep her eyes open. This time of day was usually her nap time.

"How did you find us?" Nala smiled widely at the annoyed tone in the question.

"I have my ways..." she whispered mysteriously. As she said this, the grass rustled and another lioness strolled out. This one's stripes were far more striking than either of her brothers, her grey stripes and spots swirled in intricate patterns from her forehead down to her elbows. The dark stripes stood out far better against the dirty gold than Sola's orange ones did. There were even a few stray ones on her hind legs. The cub smiled sweetly at them all, completely undeterred.

"Scheming lionesses." Someone muttered darkly. Judging from how much pure despise when into those words, it could only be poor Enma.

"Sade," one of her brother's whinned, clearly realising that maybe they should stop telling their sister all their little secrets. She obviously cared little for the covert brotherhood that the boys had going.

"Sorry boys, the probability of you dying without us here was at, like, ninety percent." Five annoyed boys groaned, Sade continued to smile sweetly, Nala laughed maliciously and Benji nodded in understanding like a wise old man. Hmm, maybe the girls had their own sisterhood going on. He knew Benji was hiding something from him of late, but was she good enough to hide something like this. Allegiance to the enemy?

"Alright, get in threes than follow me. Move out." Nala barked before picking the direction and, following her own words, moving out. Sade followed her closely and Kalifa moved to pair up with Sola and Jola, who had been sitting right beside him. Ulan looked around and realised that just left him, Benji and Enma. Before he could drop to the ground and start begging for mercy, Enma shot to his feet and roared.

"Oh no you don't! You get to the back she-devil. This was Ulan's idea so he gets to lead." Ulan wasn't sure if he was relieved or not.

"Hmpft. You know, Enma, in a warrior party the leader goes to the back." Usually pointing out the fact that she got a legendary warrior for a mentor and he didn't was enough to make Enma lose any semblance of intelligence. However, the cub must of gotten used to that trick by now, because he didn't even flinch.

"Really? No wonder you're so used to being up the front. Unfortunately for you, in this party the weirdo's go to the back. So get moving." The two were almost nose to nose. Enma was one of the oldest cubs, and Nala was one of the youngest, but when they were staring each other down like this, they both looked equally as terrifying.

"Ha. I'm not in the business of taking orders from the likes of you. How about we let the leader decide. Ulan?" Nala's cruel eyes settled on him, chilling him to the bone. He was certain that her dark laughter echoed around him, but her lips hadn't moved since speaking his name so deceptively sweetly. Was this what they called 'life flashing before your eyes'? His last words to his mother had been, 'what?! No food?!' Just as he was starting to shiver, Benji stepped up beside him.

"I think we should all just shut up and get going. We have a slim chance of actually cornering this guy and that chance gets slimmer for every minute we waste squabbling. Berta can only cover for us for so long until the adults notice our abstance."

So she was in one some sort of sisterhood pact. They had planned this out way beforehand.

"Huh?" Even though it should have sounded like he was stumped, or perhaps surprised, Enma managed to sound sinster; making the incoherent question become unnerving. "And who in the hell asked you?" He growled slowly, like he was explaining to a child. Or possibly more accurately, like he was being careful not to implode. Benji's eyes hardened and glared back into his. Unaware of it, her head twitched a degree to the side.

"What did you just say to me, flea bag?"

Flea bag. That was new. Usually it was 'scum beneath my feet' or 'bone chunder' or 'pitiful wart', sometimes 'hog's smelly arse' if it got real fired up. Just as the two were unsheathing their claws, Ulan jumped between them and bravely addressed the crowd.

"Kalifa's going to be in charge while I stay back and have a chat with my sister. Everyone, please start heading to the last place the rouge was sighted. Thankyou." Not giving his sister a chance to dart around him and slice Enma to ribbons, he dragged her away with all the force he could muster.

"That's it, you're going to explain what's going on between you to, and you're going to do it now. Calmly and coherently." Surprisingly, he didn't get an eye gorged out. As the cubs trotted away and disappeared, she looked progressively more and more upset.

"Remember when I was called to grandmother's cave, and I was away for half the day with her?" He nodded dumbly, remembering the day she was referring to, but not understanding how this connected to Enma. "She told me that... that they were going to betroth me. Do you know what that means?" He didn't have enough time to respond that, yes, he did, since more than half of the cubs were betrothed already. It was right around this point that the calm and coherent factors were thrown out the window. He was pretty sure Benji's eyes were beginning to glow red, and the air around them had dropped in temperature.

"She says because I'm her granddaughter I have 'great political implications'. Whatever that means. She said that I am a representative of the Lakelands, but I've never been there in my life! We weren't even born there! But grandmother said that didn't matter. Then she starts talking about Enma. Enma. She said that his granddad, that crazy old Magnar dude, was, like, cousin to Queen Uru or something. She said if there were no heirs, it would be Enma or Kalifa the kingship was pass on to. Can you believe that!? I'm sorry I don't think you look disgusted enough. There is a possibility, a very real possibility, that Enma could become King. Are you hearing this!" He was hearing this, but, he wasn't sure if he believed it.

"Wouldn't Kalifa become king? He's much smarter," Ulan said, at a loss for words and also too freaked out to cut into his sister's rant more than need be.

"That's what I said! But she told me that when they talked to Kalifa about being named heir, he flat out refused. You see, he's smart. He knows being the King is, like, servitude to the realm. He ain't falling for that." There was a stunned moment of silence, both of them searching each other's eyes for answers.

"So... Enma could be King?"

"That's not the problem here!" He desperately tried to back pedal through the conversation.

"It isn't? Because that sounds like a massive problem to me."

"Wake up! How did this conversation start? I've been betrothed. I'm of political importance; I represent the Lakelands so I can't be betrothed to some ally pride like most are, I need to be paired with a Pridelander. I need to be mated to someone who is also of political importance, someone who could be in quick need of a few heirs if things ever come to."

Sister – betrothed – Enma? – Benji – Betrothed – heirs – multiple – heirs – betrothed – Benji – sister – Benji Enma – king – Enma - Wait a second...

"Why hasn't Enma rubbed this in all our faces yet?" He asked mystically, his voice weak and mind drained from the revelations.

"I think they're waiting for him to, what's the phrase? Grow up a bit before letting him know of the possibility. Hey, do you wanna know what grandmother said to me, about me and Enma?"

"Probably not, but you're going to tell me anyway." A smile grew on his face at her familiar expression. Is it strange that the sight of his furious sister about to self combust from outrage brought comfort to his mind?

"Damn straight I am! She said that I was 'slow' and he was 'fast'. My own grandmother called me slow! She said if we actually tried we would be a great match. She said we would better each other!"

"She seems to be saying quite a lot..."

"I can't believe this chick!"

Later, after some more mutual outraged over the situation and after a fair bit of therapy they managed to catch up with the party. Enma was up the front alongside his brother, so Benji stayed down the back. Needing a bit of space to think, Ulan decided to flank the party, going to the left since Nala already skirted the right. Conversations were mumbled sometimes between the cubs, Enma's now highly grating voice louder than the rest whenever he spoke. If his sister was valuable because she was Sarabi's granddaughter, then would his mother be even more valuable? Could this be why mother had been so restless? Was she worried about her own marriage, or was she up all day worrying about her young daughter's marriage? What did this mean for him? One day he might be brother to the Queen of the Pridelands. He would become incredibly politically important. Would a strange lioness from a strange pride be his future?

As if to solidify that this was turning out to be one of the worst days of his young life, after hours of searching, splitting up for leads, converging back together after finding nothing, they never found the rouge, not even a frickin hair.

Instead, the rouge found him.


Bukoba the Rebel, hiding in the Grass:

He wasn't sure what the Pridelanders did with their male cubs, eat them? Dump them? Chase them away? At least he could cross one thing of the potential list.

They certainly didn't train them.

The three lionesses had something resembling stealth, probably more of an innate female skill rather than from teachings. Especially that one loitering at the back, she moved quiet, like she was trying to sneak up on her own litter mates. The look in her eye suggested that he might be rather close to the truth with that observation. That loud one up the front had better count his days. Coming from a brotherhood where inter-fighting was rather common... maybe he put that a bit too lightly.

Coming from a brotherhood where inter-murdering was a bit too common, he could read that look clearly. He ran his eyes over the rest, chuckling at his own thoughts.

They send half-sized cubs after him? That's almost insulting, but, he would bet their not meant to be out here. Hmm, to think the Pridelanders would let such disrespect exist in their pride. It made sense, these golden kings were too weak to punish cubs. He had executed more than he cared to count, most in the name of the Alpha, many by his own judgement. He had maimed younger cubs for less.

Weak Pridelanders.

Just the image of Diku cavorting around with them made his claws unsheathe. The thought of some soft, mushy pridelander be honoured enough to get within an inch of her... Bukoba calmed himself down by planning all the different way he would kill the guy. Something occurred to Bukoba as he fantasised about throwing the mystery mate off Priderock, right from the very, very top. What if Diku begged for mercy, what if she genuinely loved the guy? A quick death, yes, or maybe a noble death by duelling him. After all, in a duel, if you lost it was only your own weakness to blame. What of the cubs? Would she shield their tiny bodies from him, would she look at him with hatred? Alpha would be pleased if he killed them. It would display the brotherhood's strength, but would he do that? It would not be the first time he had pretended to kill cubs. But Alpha would most likely want to parade the bodies of the Pridelander's spawn alongside the body of the father.

He had never thought about the cubs. They would be small and defenceless, it would take one swipe and their spines would snap in two, instantly killing them. He should warn her, or get them away before it came to pass. Alpha wouldn't be suspicious, he never quested his loyalty, not after all these years together. It would not be strange for a mother to send her children away after being made aware of what lurked in the dark. But Kuu, that annoying creature Alpha was using as a mole. Would he pick up on it?

Bukoba continued shadowing the cubs, as he had been doing for the last hour. He had to think of a way... some way... he would not allow her to hate him. Alpha wouldn't understand. He would give her to him and say she was his and consider only that. But it was wrong, to consider only yourself when it came to taking a partner. He would sooner die than let the Alpha know, but he and Diku had been lovers once. In the months leading up to her disappearance they had shared countless passionate moments together. He loved to enjoy her body, but the true pleasure was in how she enjoyed his body.

Argh! Why was he sulking in the trees, dreaming about her body, when he should be madly thinking up schemes to save her cubs? She would not be happy with him if she knew. He could just hear her insults now. Even now, back from the seemingly dead, she was just as unreachable for him. Every plan lead to a dead end, he couldn't warn her, because she never left the rock anymore. He knew because he stalked it day and night. He couldn't just warn the whole pride, because then Kuu would know and realise who the warning had come from. He could kill Kuu, tempting, but he was needed to take control of the pride, and if he ruined that then he would never get to have her again no matter what. He was doomed. What he needed was a little bird, just one, just a tiny... little...bird.

Bukoba's gaze narrowed on the scrawny cubs. Just one would do. As the hours dragged on they drifted apart more and more, it would be easy to corner one. Especially considering that they were turning for home, and the closer they got to the rock, the more complacent they would become. It would be easy to scare one into silence. Once they relayed the message to Diku, she would know what to say to them, to keep them quiet. But being friendly with the enemy? Would she be punished? Would the cub run and tell the king about what they were told?

Whatever. Those Pridelanders were soft. It was probably boarding on acceptable to be having chats with the rouges. They probably encouraged it. Yeah, make a friend, good luck, get knocked up while you're at it, fresh genetics is always a plus. Crazy Pridelanders.

While thinking about the King, Bukoba realised he had forgotten one very important detail.

Sarabi.

For many in the brotherhood, their every waking moment was fuelled by the fact that she still lived. And lived to be a queen to some soft, foreign king, her one true love, the fallout from the rebellion and power shuffle ignored, was even more infuriating for them. Some hated her because they held onto the traditional ideals she had rebelled against and criminalised, but on the whole nearly all of them hated her for one single reason. It was her war that had orphaned them. It may not have been her personally, but her named appeared in all the legends, so all the blame was square on her shoulders. In his opinion, she was very smart to have left. The Lakelands would have caved in on itself in another desperate war if she had not.

Most had made it their life goal to slaughter her. However, most of the time they had to make do with the next best thing. Most of her cubs had been murdered by some wayward vengeance seekers. Kuu himself had been in the small party that managed to kill one of her oldest children, Bilga. Then he had gone and used her as his mother in his cover story. That was reason number three as to why he hated that kid so much.

Out of the eight cubs she had birthed, nine if you count that most recent cub, only three lived. One had scurried to the ends of the known world, the wisest of them all, and Diku was alive today only because of his protection. The brotherhood lions were too scared to cross him, or perhaps, too pleased that she was his 'play thing' to get in the way. Only Alpha, and now Kuu thanks to that conversation a few nights ago, believed that they had never been intimate. Everyone else in the brotherhood thought they were going at it whenever he wanted in every direction he pleased. He really owed it to Alpha for keeping his once true opinion to himself – it could have been quite dangerous if the actual loving nature of their relationship had been revealed.

The third cub, Taf, lived only because he led a coalition even the brotherhood feared to cross. He inherited the pride from his mother after she left for the Pridelands, and it had continued to expand under his guide. And he wasn't even a bloodthirsty tyrant; he was just a happy-go-lucky idiot. It constantly boggled his mind how Taf had managed to live when all the others didn't, it was better for his mental health if he simply stopped trying to figure it out. He may have worked undercover for the guy a few times but that did not make them friends and if the idiot ever tried to befriend him ever again he was going to throw that guy into the lake.

All this was why he was in such a delicate situation right now. The brotherhood wanted her and everyone she loved dead. He wanted her and everything she loved alive, preferably with all four legs and both eyes still attached, if he got real ambitious.

Half an hour passed. He spent his time moving silently in the wake of the cubs, his mind circling its own tail as he tried to find the loophole. A plan formed, it would be on the fly, but it would work.

Well, it had a high chance of working. The highest out of all his plans.

As predicted, the cubs relaxed and drifted as Priderock drew near. There was one drifter in particular, the one who had been moping around to the left of the cubs all day. The scary lioness seemed to be trying to console him, before going after the rest and leaving him behind. The boy sighed so sadly it sounded like his soul was accidentally being leaked out. Perfect prey. The cub got to his feet and followed as well, but at a much slower pace, with his paws dragging in the dust. Very slow. After about a minute, it wouldn't be noticeable to the others if he simply stopped following them. Bukoba scanned the area, which was becoming worrisomely familiar to him, and planned the perfect ambush. The cub steered a bit too far around that particular thicket, so he got in position at the next place, and it lined up perfectly. He was thankful that the herds had not come yet, otherwise the dense grasses that served so well for cover would have been chewed down to the roots.

Threading through the grass quietly, he pressed up against a large rock with prickle flowers growing out of its cracks. The cub walked alongside it, using its shadow to hide from the burning afternoon sun, just as planned. He started to creep around until he was prowling silently behind the cub.

His arm flashed out as quietly as his footsteps had been all morning. The cub jerked, which showed good instincts, but far too slow reflexes because he had been slapped against the rock and had the breath knocked out of him before anything else could be done. The kid bounced off the rock and onto the ground. The boy was too winded to do little more than epp as his paw pressed down upon his neck, his claws fluttering across his skin before digging in a fraction. The cub was smaller than he had first guessed, now that he had the child before him.

"Make a sound and I'll rip your throat out." Yellow eyes, which did not look as terrified as they ought to be, darted up to look at him. "I have a message for you to deliver, meant for one lion's ears only. If you dare tell any other soul it could endanger your pride." He leaned in and whispered. "There are enemies hidden within Priderock. It would not be wise to let them catch wind of this."

Now, with that all clear, it was time to get to the important part.

"This message will be told to Diku alone. Are we clear?" A frown and a quirking eyebrow was not the expression he had been hoping for.

"Get lost! What sort of shitty business do you have with her, fat pile of s-" he was cut off as Bukoba leaned more weight onto his neck and chocked him, taking the pressure off before too much harm could start.

"Good, so you know who I speak of." Once those eyes focused on him once more, he continued. "I am an old friend with good intentions. Diku would wish for you to follow my word. You can trust me on this." Bukoba then pulled his paw back and laid down on the ground, looking perfectly regal and harmless. He waited until the cub slowly drew to his feet before continuing. "See? Trustworthy." The glare sent his way was an improvement. To feel safe enough to display hostility was a vastly under appreciated state of being. "Tell her that it would be wise to send her cubs far, far away. Tell her that the Alpha is here, and he intends to kill them."

That got the cub's attention. Not that he didn't have his attention before but, at least in his thoughts he wasn't ranting on and on about how much he hated him. Instead, now there was focus on his every word.

"Send her cubs away?" The kid's hard yellow eyes bored into his own grey ones. Bukoba nodded solemnly. So this kid must know the cubs, to be so serious about the situation like he was. From then on, it felt like he was the one being backed into a corner and interrogated.

"Some alpha intends to kill them? Why?"

"The Alpha intends to kill them, so he can display their bodies alongside the father."

"Their father wants their bodies?"

"No. The Alpha wants their bodies, to put alongside their dead father."

"Their father is dead?"

"No yet, but he will be."

"Who is he?"

"What?"

"What?"

A long stretch of silence.

"What do you mean 'who is he', don't you know?"

"No. Don't you know?"

"Isn't he a Pridelander?"

Another stretch of silence, as they both frowned at each other.

"No, not to my knowledge. He would probably be a Lakelander..."

"Lakelander... what do you mean... what does that mean?" The cub looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Lakelander refers to those bat shit insane lions to the west, by the great lakes?"

"Yes I know that. I meant, what makes you sure he is a Lakelander?"

"Well, she was already pregnant. The daddy is from the other place, not this place. Comprehend?"

"Already pregnant... like, how pregnant?"

"How should I know? I wasn't even born then!"

"This is, highly concerning. For me, that is. It could work out well for her. Possibly."

"Work out well? Are you nuts? Hey, you know something don't you? You gotta tell me, please, Benji would kill to know. Come on, please?" Bukoba would have noticed the pause, as if the kid was proof reading his words before they came out of his mouth. He would have picked up on it instantly, if only he hadn't just received such a bombshell. It was hard to think about how the cub seemed slow on his words, when your world had just been torn apart at the seams.

Holy, holy, holy, holy, holy... It had occurred to him, but he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to speculate or go fishing for confirmation. In fact, he pretty much barricaded his mind from all possible thoughts. But this was as good as decapitation. He did not notice how his body shook and his breathing hitched, but he did notice how the cub took a concerned step closer, probably to inspect him for a snake bite. He tried to stop the panic, but it got harder and harder.

One of their last conversations, right before she disappeared, she had asked him about cubs. She had asked him! About cubs! About names, if he ever had a chance. He had thought he was implying they start, so he had promptly told her that nononono definitely not a good time to start thinking about that. She had laughed at him, she said she wouldn't dream of starting a family with him, not until he left the brotherhood. Back then, he thought she was trying to lure him away with the promise of a family. It had been one of her best attempts, right up there with threatening to go and make a mate out of some random idiot from her pride. At least he would be there, day and night for me. He could stand her threats to run away, because at least she would be alive. If she went and got hitched to some pride bozo, much to the happiness of her stupid brother, then the brotherhood would promptly consider her fair game.

His authority in the brotherhood was the only thing that kept her safe. Why did she never manage to see that? If he left, she died, he died, everyone died. He wanted children involved in this stalemate relationship just as much as she did, which was to say, not at all.

She had started chatting about names. In the beginning he had just listened, stubbornly refusing to be sucked in. Been? No. Gillu? No. Bukoba Junior? Double no. Tanza? Glare. Sarabi Junior? Hell to the no!

Then he had said Benji, after his mother. Why he had said that, he'll never know. Older lions had told him about her, and those stories were the only reason he ever knew she existed. Well, other than his obvious existence, of course. Diku would never disrespect him by naming someone else's cubs after his mother. She knew how much it meant to him, her name. Hell, he had a hard time imaging her with anyone else. She never really was what most considered a 'catch'. Polite, forget it, nice, in your dreams, friendly, are we talking about the same lioness here?

"So she's got one girl? Or is there more?" He got to his feet, trying to pace the panic out of him. The shivers started to subside and his breathing begun to level. He was turned away, so he missed the expression of alarm that crossed the cub's face.

"Ahh, no, two of them. Two girls."

"What's the other cub's name?"

"Should I be telling you this?" Bukoba's eyes darkened and he inched forward to glare deep into the little Pridelander's eyes.

"Yes, you should. And you will." Ulan was more afraid in that moment then he had been while being chocked. He picked the first name that came to mind.

"Nala."

"Benji and Nala. Shit, shit." Bukoba's pacing started to turn into high strung racing. He whipped around to look at the cub, causing the small kid to jump. "Forget everything okay? Don't tell a soul. And I'm super serious about that. You do have enemies on the inside, let nothing slip. Those kids lives depend on silence. Got it?" Once the cub had slammed his mouth shut and nodded with wide eyes, he spun away. Bowling off into the evening, not caring if he was spotted or not, because right now he had enough energy and adrenaline screaming through his highly emotional system that he could make it to the Lakelands and back.

Ulan watched the big lion go.

Forget everything?

Was he joking? That lion was obviously not thinking clearing by the end. Now that he mentioned it, neither had he. This was not good. He was not sure what level of trouble he had just caused, but it was important that mother knew as soon as possible.

The message was meant for her ears only. What message that was exactly, was a bit confusing by the end of that conversation. Best to be on the safe side and tell her everything. And since Benji had been so kind and waited a tiny two weeks before telling about the whole Enma situation, he felt a bit of sweet revenge was in order. However, he would wait only one week, since he was a just and merciful being.

And because, he might just crack if he waited any longer. This was too good to not share.


*Spins around in a chair while stroking a hairless cat* MWHAHA! We're officially in the 100k+ club now, my first fic to make it this far, I'm majorly excited to start pulling all the strings I've been laying these past ten chapter. Don't forget to review!