An Almost Lioness

Pebbles don't just roll out of bushes on their own.

"Psst! Nala!"

Not that early in the morning anyway.

"Shuusssh. Simba; I know it's you. You'll get us both in big trouble. You know you're not supposed to be here."

"Yeah, but who's gonna know?"

"Nala, who are you talking to?"

Nana turned her head away sharply. "No one mom, I was just- just- just checking out what I'd say to Simba if he did show up."

Simba had slipped out from the bushes, but froze, a hind and opposite foreleg in the air. Wobbling, he slowly lowered his hindpaw to the ground.

"OK Nala, but do it quieter, please! We're trying to sleep over here."

Simba smiled, his ears roundly alert.

"Sure mom. Sorry."

Simba waited a few moments, and then slipped closer.

"Well," Nala whispered out of the corner of her muzzle. "What do you want?" One of the other lionesses' yawned in the middle distance; a half-asleep, don't-really-care-who-sees-or-hears, yawn. "This had better be great."

"Yeah, 'course it is. You know dad's gone checking out those kudu that came down from Mbala ridge?" Nala didn't know. "He said I couldn't go with him." Simba looked down at the ground. "But I asked uncle Scar, and he said he'd take us to watch."

"Simba!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. From a distance – he says it's too dangerous to go close – he reckons dad'll catch up with them near the gorge, says we should be able to watch from the top."

"Simba, I'm grounded remember? Since the graveyard, I can't go anywhere; and no ways anywhere with you."

"He also says that if I'm really good he's got a big surprise for me."

"Simba, you're not listening. I can't go with you. You'll just have to go alone with Scar, and don't go falling into the gorge either."

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"Of course I want to come, but I just can't."

Nala had been young then; it was the first time she had let anything really hurt her. Cowering between her mother's paws as Scar seized the lion kings' throne, she determined that it would be the only time.

Nala was now of age – old enough to ordinarily have been expected to have a family of her own – but still she was the youngest in the pride. She could hunt for herself, but had never had to support cubs of her own. She had inherited some of her mother's - Sarafina's - strength and power but still sometimes found bringing it to bear awkward and inconclusive. She was old and skilled enough to hunt alongside Sarabi, Sarafina, and the others but she had never led them. She could, and did when occasion, or more precisely Sarabi, demanded it, demonstrate considerable tactical ability, and the presence of mind, to plan strikes. However, when the time came to execute them, few could not notice she lacked Sarabi's patience.

Yet, as an unmated lioness, this mattered relatively little. Surely a young family of her own would be more than enough motivation to refine her skills, to define her abilities and temper her desire to rush into everything.

Nala scarcely noticed that, despite her youthful rawness, the queen of the pride, Sarabi, kept her close; much closer than her age, experience and position in the pride demanded. She might well enough assume that Sarabi's friendship with her mother, Sarafina, arguably the pride's greatest asset at the hunt, explained it all, yet there was more, much more, that Nala was only beginning to understand. Nala - young, impetuous, elemental tempered, strong and sleek-curved - was as yet still an almost lioness; one who perhaps felt that her greatest contribution to the pride might be to leave it.

As it was, Nala was still in the pride she was born into. The darkness was heavy and dense, much as was the mane of the lion she lay next to. She had never really seen a fully grown male close up. Scar had always been aloof; closer to his hyenas than to his own kind, and an even more distant father, never acknowledging her as his own. The only other male she had known had been Mufasa, also a king, but she had been much younger then. He had been the father of Simba. She knew both Scar and Mufasa as kings, and had barely thought of either of them as males. Yet here was a male, a fully grown mature lion; every last inch of him. This male was, like Mufasa, a father, and despite everything had done at least one miracle; a new born miracle: Nala herself. Scar could choose whichever lioness he liked, but Nala was determined he'd never take the almost from her.

Scar undoubtedly had many faults, but surprisingly, and luckily for Nala, disrespecting a lioness's wishes was not always one of them. He could have forced himself on her – and many lions would have done so with little compunction and much pleasure - but to some little credit, he had not, though he had not done so graciously. In fact, his banishment of Nala when she refused him was one of the most publically and clearly deliberately humiliating acts of his two year reign. None of the pride could be in any doubt as to who was in charge and what the price of crossing him would be. Nala had learned a painful lesson, but it may not have been the one Scar intended to teach. So for her to have helped Scar to get home alive, to lay close at his side as he slept, to stay alert for danger so as to protect him, might come as a surprise, but then Nala, the almost lioness, was anything but unsurprising, and anything but almost.

The air had grown sharper and cooler as the storm closed, but it had still not broken. The clouds overhead glowed and flashed, shaking the tense air. Nala, alarmed out of sleep, lifted her forequarters and looked over the still sleeping Scar. He was seemingly untroubled by the weather. She almost wished she too could share his peace: He felt neither the still silent lightning high above, nor did he see the thick sheets of rain folding over the rises to the north. Soon it would be upon them both. They had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. It would take them and cover them. All they could do was lay there no matter what came upon them.

She studied the matted, dry-sand hair of his drop muzzle, punctuated and split by the darkly angled tip of his nose. Through that black-lined mouth, between those blood-browned teeth, so much hate had spilled, now it seemed calm, almost benign. His legs, scratched, the skin exposed and even torn in places, lay quite still. His claws were buried softly in the fur of his paws. She could see he hurt, but was actually thankful the unguent had spared him the worst of the pain. As she looked at his slowly lifting and falling side, she felt sure he moved his head or forelegs. She turned her head; he lay exactly as he had moments before.

The sky flashed. Nala became aware of a shape huddling a few lengths into the gloom; then came the ear-battering, crashing rumble. She drew to a stand. "Who's that? Sarabi? Is that you?"

The shape slowly moved closer. Nala eyed it cautiously. Her expression hardening when she saw that it was a hyena. Then sounds: pawfall on dry earth. Looking round, there were more, and movement in the gloom beyond. Not one or two, but six or seven hyena, shuffling and watching, standing and sitting. She didn't know them, but then there were so many. The closest sat; its head to one side. A voice came from behind Nala: "You're one of them friends of Sarabi, ain't ya?"

"No, no," said another dismissively. The others chattered excitedly. "Yes, yes. She's that Nala."

Nala whipped her head round, but she couldn't tell which was speaking. The first spoke again: "Nah, can't be. Look at her belly, she ain't with cub."

"What?! Of course I'm not."

"Yeah, but you are Nala."

This time Nala saw clearly who spoke, but didn't recognise him. "What if I am? What do you want anyway? I've not got food: there's nothing for you here."

A third shadowy voice broke from behind the closest hyenas. "Hey, come on now, let's give our king and queen a little room." Nala could not see who it was, but she knew that voice: Shenzi.

"Queen? But she's not… she's not-"

"Nah," moaned the second male disappointedly. "She's not."

Shenzi was clearly moving closer. "Oh really? No little Scars on the way, eh? Really? After everything we've heard? Maybe we can't believe everything Scar says." With hyenas, intent on their own discussion, on three sides; Nala didn't know which way to turn. She held her gaze on the second male. With the chill of the air and in the hyenas' demeanour, the greatest warmth came from Scar's underfur pressing against her hindlegs.

"Yeah. Shouldn't that be 'anything' he says?"

The nearest hyenas drew back, parting. From the shadows, Shenzi came forward, tipping her head to eye the others in turn. "Hmm." She came to a stand three lengths ahead of Nala, staring. "Well, just what did your boyfriend say, Nala?"

"Scar's not my boyfriend!" Nala snarled.

Shenzi sneered back, "No, of course. We did hear you're his queen. Didn't we?" The other hyenas chattered in agreement. Shenzi went on, "I suppose I can't blame you; but I don't see he's that much of a catch."

Nala growled. A heavy drop of rain splattered onto the ground in front of her.

Shenzi continued, theatrically raising her forepaw to her chin. "Oh, now who does that remind me of? No, no, don't tell me."

Nala cut Shenzi with glare. First two drops, then more and more.

"Ah yes, I remember. You were all alone with your first boyfriend, you know the little one."

"Simba?"

"Yeah, that runt. Mufasa's little boy."

The rain spattered tiny dark craters into the dust. Nala glanced at Scar. She took in a deep breath, and then roared, her eyes closed while the breath held out. As she opened them, her chest heaved in fresh air. The rain fell warm and heavy on her neck and back.

Shenzi stood firm. "Ooo, very frightening I'm sure, but I'm not shaking see? Simba's daddy ain't going to leap in and save you this time. Now, you had better run along home. We'll take him from here." The other hyenas sniggered. The air flashed. Almost instantly came the thunder, making Nala's roar just another drop of rain in the storm.

"No! He's sleeping."

"After that? Scar, sleeping? With you?"

Still Scar had not moved; his breath was still steady. "Yes – no. Look, do you really want to wake him?" She snarled again. "Well, do you?" Nala stood firm at Scar's side. From the distance, over to Pride Rock, another lioness's roar punched through the rain.

Shenzi glanced to the distance, her ears pricked, and then she looked to the sky. "Well…" Her voice became tense. "I guess we can wait a little longer." She turned to the others. "Come on; I guess we should leave these two lovebirds alone together."

The soft splatter of rain on dusty earth grew rapidly to a steady patter. Then the clouds, thick and dark above, opened and the patter gave way to splashes into standing water. Nala's ears stung, and shortly her fur ran through, the water seeping under her, chilling her underfur. Scar's mane began to slump, exposing the line of his head and neck. Nala pressed hard to him, trying to warm him. His forepaws began to tremble, then became still once more.

The rain eased as quickly as it had started, but it did not stop. Two bedraggled, torpid forms emerged out of the weather. In the sodden darkness, Nala turned her head, sliding it over Scar's forelegs. She barely recognised them until, a few lengths away, one spoke.

"Nala, are you all right?"

"Yes mother." Nala felt Scar shift under her. She lifted her head from him a little.

Sarabi slipped forward from Sarafina's side. "Sorry I had to leave you here, but we had a problem with some hyenas."

Nala nodded, water dripping from her chin on to Scar. "Yes, that happens." Scar twitched.

Sarabi sounded concerned. "Nala, is he… is he waking?"

"'bout time. Though I'd rather he stayed out of it."

"Saffi! Scar deserves our respect just like any other lion."

"But he's not 'any other lion' is he, Sarabi? He's Scar. He twisted the throne from his brother's still warm claws. He's run the Pridelands into the ground; this dry, dusty ground. Nothing grows now, nothing. This is the first rain we've had in- how long has it been now? He's had us hunt day and night and hand it all over to him and his stinking hyenas. It's no wonder none of us have cubs. We couldn't feed them if we did. We can barely even feed ourselves."

"Mother! Shut up."

"Don't you tell me to-"

Nala growled.

Sarabi tipped her head and pushed heavily into Sarafina's side. "Sarafina! Look!"

Confused ground-hinted scents rose up and mingled with the fresh and humid smell of the air. The rain was losing its urgency, falling rather than pelting down.

Sarafina fell silent; watching as Scar's eyes quivered and then flickered open. Nala pulled back, easing away from Scar. When his head turned heavily towards her, she sprang away, her eyes wide.

Sarabi dropped her head and took a pace forwards. "Scar?" She waited. The only sounds were Nala's rapid breathing against the steady patter of the rain. "Can you hear me, Scar?" Nala stepped back another silent pace, unable to pull her tense, widened eyes off the lion.

Scar lifted his head, the effort clearly painful. He looked to Sarabi, his right eye dragging, not matching the gaze of his left. Sarabi dropped her head farther; well below the line of her shoulders; and looked straight at him, "You're safe. We're nearly home." Scar just looked on. "Scar? You can hear me, can't you? We're going to take care of you. We're going to get you home. Everything's going to be all right."

Nala glared at Sarabi. "Everything's going to be all right? What do you mean 'all right'?"

Sarafina pushed forward. "Nala, just keep out of this. You've done your bit now-"

Sarabi edged her voice with the hint of a growl. "Saffi! Nala! Not now! Both of you just back off and calm down. Scar doesn't need any of this."

Scar turned his head to Pride Rock, dropping his chin with the effort. Sarabi rushed to his side. "Come on, Saffi!"

Sarafina shoved Nala aside and slumped herself down at Scar's side. Nala stood by. "What about me?"

"Told you. You've already done more than enough damage."

"What, Mother? What have I done?"

Sarabi flicked her tail over Scar's back, catching Sarafina sharply on the hindquarters. Sarafina lay stiffly silent. Scar rolled slightly into her.

"You've done just fine, Nala. Now, there's one more thing I need you to do. Just one more thing."

Sarafina turned her ears away from her daughter.

"Yes, Sarabi. What is it?"

"He'll be hungry… and thirsty. You too, I expect."

"Well…"

"We'll get him to the waterhole. You go and find something to eat."

"I… I can get a party together and-"

"No, Nala, just you. We don't want the whole pride in on this yet. You understand?"

"Yes. I think so."

"Good. Now go. Meet us by the waterhole. If we're not there an hour after sunrise, we'll still be here, or at Pride Rock. You got that?"

"Yes, Sarabi."

Nala turned, paused a moment, then walked off into the gloom. The prospect of hunting alone at night in wet conditions would have weighed heavily on most lionesses in the pride. Nala though, whether her mother realised it or not, was not 'most lionesses'. She knew she had to hunt something she could catch on her own and lift or drag, possibly for many hundreds of lengths, to the waterhole.

Nala's pads grew heavier and colder with each step, grit pushing up between her toes and grinding into her claws. As she padded up a rise, she paused and looked back. Sarabi and her mother had Scar up, standing unsteadily between them. Sarafina pulled away a little, Scar immediately falling over on to her. The two would have to get Scar to the waterhole, yet it looked as though he could barely even stand. Nala knew he could walk; she had seen him walk, and walk far. She knew that, while dawn was surely close, she didn't need to rush. She had time to hunt carefully, and hunt alone; just as she liked it.

Strong pride lionesses such as her mother, Sarafina, generally preferred large prey: wildebeest, zebra, hartebeest, gemsbok, kudu and the like. They had many mouths to feed, including voracious males and cubs. They also had the support of each other, hunting in groups, banding up to make heavy takedowns, several times the weight of a lioness, less hazardous. Even then, hunting was a dangerous and often unrewarding business. Three out of every four attempted hunts, or more, lead to nothing; sometimes, to much worse.

Nala took to the life of a lone lioness well enough. While strong and supple, she lacked some of her mother's bulk and power; power that made Sarafina a big-prey specialist. On her own, Nala hunted smaller prey; animals she could take down, and eat, unaided: the smaller antelope, gazelle mainly, dik-dik even, and the favoured standby of many lone males; the occasional warthog. These animals tended to roam in smaller herds, family groups, or even individually, and were most often found away from, and on the edge of the big herds. Nala knew where to find them – narrower, more secluded valleys were often good places – and how to catch them. It drew her into competition with some leopards, but that was a price she knew she had the strength to afford.

When Scar had banished Nala from the pride, she had at first thought it would be difficult to keep out of his way, and that of the other lionesses. She wanted to stay as close as she could, keeping in touch with the pride wherever possible, but, with her changed hunting pattern, she found their paths crossed rarely.

Nala turned away from her mother, Sarabi, and the struggling Scar. She knew where to go to catch just the sort of small prey she needed now; something she could take down alone and carry far. Unlike many others of the pride, she knew exactly how to do that, like the almost lioness she was. By banishing her, Scar had unintentionally given her just what she needed to keep him alive.