•
And let all that is lost be forgotten, and it will pass,
So let all that is lost be forgotten, let us move on.
Like the waters in the open sea,
When tribulations come, all we can say is hopefully,
And yesterday you could probably say there's no hope for me
But today I'm overly dedicated, I'm supposed to be.
—Dido / Kendrick Lamar, "Let Us Move On"

It was so obvious, Kopa could see it plain as day now standing before them. Tumaini had Kumi's amber eyes, the same bushy unkempt mane as Malka; the three of them stared at each other wordlessly, while the other lions stood as if rooted in place by the silence.

Kumi took a few uncertain steps forward, but stopped when Tumaini immediately backed away. He snapped out of his reverie and whirled on Kopa in outrage. "You knew about this?"

"Of course I didn't, you never told me," Kopa asserted, having expected this reaction.

Kumi's gaze shifted to him as well. "You figured it out last night, didn't you? You didn't say anything then."

"As soon as Malka mentioned the time he wandered into the Serengeti," he admitted. "I heard the same story from Tumaini a few days ago."

"Guess I shouldn't have," Tumaini muttered.

"Tumaini, where have you been all these years?" asked Kumi incredulously.

He did not meet her eyes. "If I didn't want you to know then, what makes you think I do now?"

"You came back," Malka said. "You risked your life coming all this way for something."

"For her." Tumaini jerked his head in Siri's direction. "I did it for her, not for you, understand? Not either of you."

Kopa made a noise of exasperation. "So what, you're just gonna disappear on your parents again?"

"I wasn't planning on seeing them to begin with," his friend snapped. "So thanks for bringing them right to me, I guess."

"That's not—" Kopa sputtered. "I—you and Siri were in trouble! What was I supposed to do?"

With an aggravated growl, Tumaini stomped past him, shoulders squared and rigid. "Never mind. We're leaving."

"Hey!" Kopa moved in front of him. "We're not done here!"

"Looks pretty done to me," his friend scowled, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger.

"Then where's your brother?" Kopa demanded, unable to contain himself even as Tumaini tensed. "Why is he with my pride and not yours?"

Malka's stunned expression broke into incredulity. "What?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tumaini said stiffly.

"Well, I do. His name was Afua, right?" When Kopa's question was greeted by stony silence, he pressed on. "My pride took him in, after... there was a rockslide in the gorge. That's... that's why he was blind in one eye." The details were trickling in from the recesses of his mind, one by one.

He flinched as Tumaini suddenly placed a paw on his shoulder and turned him so that they were facing each other. There was a disconcerting hollowness in his friend's demeanour that exuded no discernible emotion. "Stop digging, Kopa. You've got your own past to worry about — and you can't even be sure your mind isn't playing tricks on you."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" retorted Kopa heatedly, trying without success to wrest free. "You'd rather think I'm crazy so you can pity me instead of facing your own problems!" He winced as Tumaini's grip tightened on his shoulder. "Let go of me, Tumaini!"

Siri bound forward in a flash, but Tumaini had already removed his paw, looking chastened. Casting an involuntary glance toward his parents, he uttered, "I'm sorry, kid, I didn't mean to—"

Shaking his head, Kopa yanked himself away, too angry to even register the receding pain in his shoulder. "I learned more about you just now than I have the entire time I've known you. That honestly hurts, buddy, it really does."

"Kopa—"

"Shut up, I'm not done," Kopa growled, fighting to hold back his temper. "If you didn't want any of this, you could have said so. But it was your idea to bring Siri out here, so here we are. And after everything that's happened, you want to run off and pretend none of this happened?"

"Am I supposed to answer this time?" grumbled Tumaini. "Because the answer's yes."

Kopa whirled about and let loose a yell of frustration. "Forget it! I'll prove your brother's alive! You can stay here if you don't believe me!"

The distance finally faded from Tumaini's eyes, and he blinked in surprise. "Wha...but we agreed to go together."

"I don't need you following me around!" shouted Kopa. "Figure yourself out first, Tumaini, cause clearly I had it all wrong."

This time, there was a noticeable pause before Tumaini spoke again. When he did, there was a keen edge of despair to his voice. "Yeah. I guess you did."

Despite his high-strung furor, Kopa squeezed his eyes shut as tears sprang forth. Tuning out the screaming impulse to look back at Tumaini, he rushed off before anyone could react. He wasn't sure if he heard Siri calling his name, but didn't turn to check as he dashed away through the trees.

•••

Tumaini wiped a stream of tears from his eyes with a sniffle, dropping his gaze as the sound of Kopa's pawsteps faded into the forest. None of the others spoke a word, though he glanced up when he noticed Siri staring expectantly at him. "What?"

"Aren't you going after him?" she demanded.

"He doesn't want me," he responded with a resigned shrug. "I can't say I blame him."

She huffed. "Well, he still needs you. So if you're not going, then I am."

"You won't catch up to him with your bad paw."

Siri tapped the side of her head with one claw. "Then you'd better do some catching up yourself, and fast." With that, she hobbled off in the direction Kopa had gone.

Silence fell over the remaining lions once more, and Tumaini saw that his parents were still looking his way. He dashed away his remaining tears and scoffed half-heartedly. "I bring her this close to safety and she turns around. Why do I even try?"

Kumi cocked her head. "How are you so sure your brother's not in the Serengeti?"

"How are you so sure he is?"

"Your uncle's seen him there, talked to him as well."

"What?" Malka blinked in surprise.

Tumaini sighed. "You've gotta be kidding me. You know better than to take Fujo at his word, mom. He was just telling you what you wanted to hear."

"So let me take you at your word," Kumi said. "How do you know you're right?"

His features screwed up tightly, not wanting to say the words but finding he couldn't hold them back. "Because he's dead. I killed him in that rockslide."

Malka shirked back at this, stricken; the other lions' attention were now unanimously fixated upon Tumaini. Kumi did not react, however, and asked quietly, "So how is it that Kopa remembers him?"

"He probably misremembered," grunted Tumaini. "The rockslide part, maybe he saw that, and then he must have confused me for my brother, or—or repressed something traumatic he saw." He peered about as he noticed their reactions, eyes lingering on his mother. "I just told you I buried Afua in a rockslide. Why doesn't that bother you?"

Kumi sighed. "I don't know, son. I feel more tired these days than I ever did. Some days it's hard to feel at all. Maybe I just want something to go right for once."

"A rockslide?" whispered Malka, having found his voice at last. "What were you thinking?"

Tumaini returned his stare, baring his teeth at the question. "What was I thinking? I was thinking about how much I hated those wild dogs after they killed grandma Kana. Uncle Fujo made sure that was at the forefront of my thinking when I was growing up, or don't you remember?" There was a savage vindication in seeing Malka flinch. "So I buried as many of them as I could in that gorge, but they—they had Afua, and—I didn't know until—until—"

Malka slowly stepped forward as Tumaini's voice broke. The king gently cradled his son's head under his own and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Tumaini."

"Don't tell me that," sobbed Tumaini. "Tell me there's no fixing this, that Janga's going to kill us all before we get the chance. Just say it already."

"Son," said Malka solemnly. "If there really is a chance for our family, then I'll fight tooth and claw to make sure we get it."

Tumaini straightened with another sniffle. "You really think you can guarantee that?"

"No. But now I have hope again. That's what your name means in our ancestral language — hope."

Kumi gave Malka a rare smile. "You remembered."

"How could I forget?" He returned the smile, wistful as it was. "You only told me about a hundred times."

"What does—" Tumaini caught himself. "What did Afua's name mean?"

"Forgiveness," Malka told him quietly. "Something we could all use right now."

Kumi's expression became somber once more as she faced Tumaini once again. "You mean everything to that Kopa kid, you know. He looks at you the way... the way I wished you and your brother looked at me."

Tumaini bristled. "I'd never put him through what you did to us."

"I know, son," she conceded. "It's too late for me, but not for you."

"He deserves better," he mumbled, remembering his friend's scathing words. "He made me realize I didn't want to be alone, and I was selfish to want things to stay the way they were. I can't even look him in the eye now."

"Tumaini," said Malka firmly. "It may not mean much coming from your fool of a father, but I want you to take my advice just this once. Fight for the people in your life, the ones that really matter to you. And don't you ever stop, because nothing feels worse than accepting emptiness. This I know better than anyone."

Tumaini laughed self-deprecatingly. "Guess I finally know how you felt when I left, huh?"

"Not even close," scoffed Kumi. "At least Kopa had the decency to tell you he was leaving."

"Yeah, because I actually bothered to teach him manners," Tumaini retorted. He ducked as his mother gruffly yet fondly pawed his ear, and was surprised as a smile crept onto his face. "I... I really missed you both. I couldn't admit it to myself until now."

Kumi cleared her throat. "Chumvi?"

Chumvi hastened forward, a little caught off guard after the prolonged exchange. "Yes, Your Majesty?" He wilted at her glare, and hastily amended, "Kumi, I meant Kumi."

"Show my son into the Outlands. Siri could probably use some help with Kopa."

"Right away, Your M—Kumi."

Tumaini peered at his mother in surprise. "You're not coming?"

"I'll meet you on the other side," she told him. For reasons he couldn't discern, her eyes darted about to take note of their surroundings. "First I'll need to get rid of the spy that's been following us."

"A spy?" repeated Malka in alarm.

Kumi surreptitiously gestured for him to keep his voice down. "A cheetah, I suspect, likely the same one that you said was watching you earlier. You're going to bait them out by taking everyone toward Mount Kilimanjaro. Leave the rest to me."

"You don't need my help?" asked Tumaini dubiously.

"I can handle one cheetah," she shrugged. "The important thing is to get the jump on her, so she doesn't slip away like last time. You just worry about finding your kid."

"He's not my kid," he reminded her with a scowl. "That's kinda the whole point."

Kumi smirked, and so did a couple of the others. "Then I think you missed the point, son. Now get going."

Nonplussed at the knowing looks he was getting from his pride, Tumaini weaved his way around the makeshift circle of lions, now following Chumvi away from Mount Kilimanjaro. The setting sun slipped ever closer toward the horizon, and overhead the moon was already dimly visible against the orange-pink sky.

Chumvi's trot picked up into a steady dash, and Tumaini did the same, regulating his breathing in accordance with his pace. We have a lot of ground to cover before we'll catch up to Kopa. And those Outlands aren't exactly an improvement after nightfall.

Doesn't matter. Even if he doesn't want me around, I won't let him face Janga on his own.

•••

With Tumaini and Chumvi gone, Kumi strode over to the prone form of the crippled ashen-maned lion where he lay between two trees. She bent down and pressed a paw against his neck, and straightened again with a satisfied nod. "Good, I thought I might have killed this one."

He groggily turned his head toward her. "Wh... what are..." Horror entered his features as his eyes darted downward to his body. "I can't... I can't move!"

"That's the idea," Kumi told him. "Keep quiet, I'll get to you shortly."

Malka eyed the crippled lion with some misgiving. "Kumi, what exactly do you intend to do with him?"

"Take a walk, Malka," she responded breezily. "You have enough bad dreams as it is."

Slowly, he shuffled off with the others, a few of them casting glances her way as they disappeared into the forest. Kumi bent down next to the ashen-maned lion once more, and whispered, "Whatever you can still move, don't or you'll lose it. You've been warned."

Her ears straightened at the faint sound of rustling nearby, moving in the same direction Malka's group had gone. Kumi noiselessly turned toward the bushes and adjusted her crouching position before launching herself over the crippled lion. Her paws landed upon empty leaves, but the urgent rustling ahead told her the cheetah wasn't far.

Kumi dove into the undergrowth and muscled her way through the leaves before spotting a yellow-brown tail poking out in front of her. She dropped into a prone position and swiped into the bushes, making contact with a pair of hind paws. A leafy thud was heard, and as the leaves parted around her quarry, Kumi leaped up through the opening and knocked the cheetah out with a solid strike under the chin.

As Kumi dragged the cheetah out of the bushes, she paused when she noticed the sigil on her shoulder. The hippo had the same symbol on his shoulder too. I think the tribe taught me about it once... but I can't be sure where it's from. She looked up to see Malka and his group join her, and waved them back as they began to crowd around.

"She's so... young," breathed Fika, peering at the cheetah closely.

"I started younger," Kumi said pointedly. She indicated the marking of the lion head tree. "That look familiar to any of you?"

"Siri would know," said Bidi. "She's been everywhere."

Kumi frowned. "Whoever they are, it seems like they've been watching us for a while."

"So she's an enemy?" Malka asked cautiously. "They wouldn't hide from us if they were on our side, right?"

Fujo's voice was heard from the nearby trees. "That kind of thinking, brother, is how amateurs get killed." The enigmatic lion marched into view, looking more alert and energetic than the others. He shook his head as he approached, staring at the cheetah's unconscious form. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you, Kumi?"

"What?" she retorted defensively. "She's not dead or even badly hurt. I used an old tribal technique, she'll be fine."

Fujo cast her a baleful look. "This is Fuli of the Night Pride, whose odds of helping us were very good until you did this."

"Well..." she blustered, now recognizing the Night Pride sigil on Fuli's shoulder. "It would've been helpful if you mentioned that sooner."

He pressed his paw to his face. "Brother?"

"What is it, Fujo?" asked Malka.

"Bring our guest of honour into the Hollow. Give her your sincerest apologies. Don't let Janga's lions find her."

"Speaking of which, I should get back to interrogating the one I paralyzed," Kumi stated. Fika and Bidi picked up Fuli and carefully began marching her away.

"Then I'll make sure you don't get too excited," Fujo said flatly. The two of them turned to head back to where the crippled lion laid.

Malka cleared his throat. "Kumi?"

Kumi turned and peered over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry about what I said," the king told her bashfully. "I don't think you're... you know."

She gave him a strained smile. "And I didn't leave because of you. Well, not just because of that. Truce?"

"Sure," grinned Malka tiredly. "Until the next time you get on my nerves, at least." He hurried off after Fika and Bidi, bound for Mount Kilimanjaro.

As Kumi turned back to Fujo, she saw him watching them with a strange air of melancholia. He caught her eye and his expression quickly shifted back into its usual mask of impartiality. They soon returned to the ashen-maned lion, whose breathing quickened frantically upon spotting the two of them approach.

"Don't be so dramatic, the worst part's already over," Kumi assured as she and Fujo stood on either side of the crippled lion. "That's the good news, the bad news is you're never walking again. But I have a solution for that too." She placed a paw over his throat, and he gave a gurgling wail in response.

Fujo raised a paw. "Wait, I think he's trying to say something. Perhaps we ought to let him do that first."

Kumi lifted her paw with a shrug. "Sure. Though I'd want someone to kill me quickly if this happened to me. Okay, cripple, what's your name?"

"Husuda," the ashen-maned lion gasped.

"Alright, Husuda, I've heard a lot about your Duara Vunja ever since you invaded my kingdom. For a bunch of lions claiming peace, you sure do a lot of killing."

"And you don't?" sputtered Husuda.

"Sure I do. But only to protect what's mine."

He managed a snort of disdain. "Mount Tempest isn't yours. Your pride drove out the ones who built it."

"Yes, I'm sure Bane's told you all sorts of things," Kumi said. "I'm sure he's left out plenty as well. Let's talk wild dogs since we're on the subject. How many are they up to?"

Husuda grinned, agonized as it was. "More than the rest combined. Enough to drown your pride in blood if that's what it takes."

"More than the rest?" repeated Kumi. "The rest of who?"

He shut his mouth, making it clear he was not about to elaborate. With a growl, Kumi pressed his ear against the ground, and he screamed as her claws pierced clean through.

"You can't walk but you still can feel," she snarled in his bleeding ear as he writhed. "Remember that when I ask you a question. Who are they?"

"Fine, it won't make a difference anyway," Husuda wheezed. "The... The Keepers of the Land. You'll never beat them, not if you had every pride around here backing you. They've waited years for this."

Kumi glanced up at Fujo, who gave an affirmative nod to denote that Husuda was speaking the truth. She mulled over his words for a moment. "So why'd they send you, if they have an enormous army?"

"They didn't know we were going to attack Mount Tempest," he disclosed. "Janga was ordered to leave your pride for the wild dogs, but she was concerned Bane would force you into a siege. She wanted a straight path through the mountains... so she made her own call."

That tracks with what Fujo told me before I left, Kumi recalled. "I've been thinking about that too. How did Janga lure my pride outside for the ambush?"

Husuda fell silent for a moment. "I... I don't know," he responded.

"He's lying," Fujo cut in.

Without hesitation, Kumi's claws stabbed into Husuda's other ear, causing him to wail once again. She swatted the blood from her claws before retracting them. "Come on, Husuda, don't tell me all of your friends are slow learners like you. That'd be pretty insulting after what you did to my pride."

Husuda's jowls quivered in agony. "Th-there's someone in your pride — playing b-both sides — that's all I know, honest... I wasn't told... who it was..." His words trailed off into a pitiful whine.

Fujo nodded again, and Kumi drew back as she pondered this. "Guess Malka was right, there is a traitor in the pride. You're gonna have to keep your eyes and ears open for everyone entering the Hollow."

"I always do," he replied coolly. "Did you have any more questions?"

"No. Did you?"

"You were quite thorough, and now we know what we're up against."

"But Kopa doesn't," Kumi realized suddenly. "He thinks Janga's the head of the snake, so if he kills her—"

"You really think he'd do it?" asked Fujo, raising an eyebrow.

"I feel it on him," she told him with utmost certainty. "The Spirit of Death follows that one around, as my old tribe would say. Though right now she's probably waiting on us to oblige her." She indicated Husuda, who gave a panicked squawk at this.

He nodded. "Shall I do the honours?"

"Oh no, there'd be no honour in that." Kumi placed one paw over Husuda's mouth as he began gibbering incomprehensibly. Her other paw closed around his throat. "I prolonged his misery, so I should be the one to end it." With that, she snapped his neck with a sharp crack, letting his head loll to one side.

Without so much as a flinch, Fujo turned away from the dead lion. "I presume we're going to look for Kopa?"

"You presume right," said Kumi, straightening. "Seeing as there's a traitor in our pride, that kid is probably one of the only lions we can trust for sure."

"True, and keeping him safe will secure the Serengeti Pride's aid," Fujo readily agreed. "Very well, let's split up. I'll find you when I need to."

For a brief moment, it occurred to Kumi that if the traitor was Fujo, the rest of the pride would be none the wiser. But she couldn't see the angle, and the thought quickly dispelled as she took off in a separate direction from him. Still, she couldn't stop thinking about the way he had answered Malka's question.

"They wouldn't hide from us if they were on our side, right?"

"That kind of thinking, brother, is how amateurs get killed."

•••

The desolate landscape of the Outlands illuminated in a brilliant flash of lightning, and Kopa turned his head with a wince as his ears filled with the sound of rain once more. The storm had come suddenly and aggressively, and sure enough he folded his ears against his head as a crackling thunderclap went off above him. He used one paw to brush aside a tuft of mane that was trickling water onto his nose, when his paw slipped on a slick patch of mud and caused him to lose his balance.

Kopa toppled off the side of the path with a cry, and rolled into a deep ditch below. Wincing, he peered around, and his breath began to shake when he saw the bones littering the trench bed. They were riddled with dried-up barnacles and plastered in slimy leaves, and his stomach lurched in dread. This is a dried-up river... I'm lying in a riverbed!

He leapt to his paws upon catching the sound of rushing water through the rainstorm, and scrambled for the edge of the trench. The wall was steep and slippery, but he kept hopping along its length, trying to find a spot where he could climb out. Another white-hot flash went off, and suddenly looming atop the cliff edge was the lioness from his nightmares, red eyes glowing with murderous intent. Kopa instantly relinquished his grip, plopping into the mud again with a thick splash.

He laid there on his back with the unrelenting deluge pelting down on him, morosely dwelling on his parting exchange with Tumaini. Why did I have to yell at him? We could've just left when he wanted to, but... why would he want to stay angry at his parents? Doesn't he see what's happening?

The tidal bore was drawing nearer now, close enough for him to see it crashing against the sides of the riverbed. Kopa rolled onto his front, ignoring the muddy water that was sticking to his underside. He faced the billowing current with slow, even breaths even as his heart pounded furiously in his chest, reminding himself of Tanzu's words to keep him steady. "Water is the salve with which time heals all wounds. It guides us in reconciling the past with the present."

"Twendeni safari," Kopa murmured. "Moja kwa moja."

He leaped straight up as the tidal bore surged upon him, and was swept up by the powerful current in a heartbeat. Water entered his throat but he immediately coughed it back up, squeezing his eyes and mouth shut as air rapidly escaped from his nostrils. A muffled boom of thunder was heard from above, and he furiously paddled toward the sound as his other senses were drowned out in the deluge.

"Please... s-stop..."

A spurt of bubbles escaped Kopa's nose and mouth as he thrashed in the water, fighting off the memory of his own voice while still trying to swim his way up.

"Try not to take it too personally, cub. It's your parents that need this reminder... and so does my daughter..."

Kopa's claws instinctively swiped out and was briefly met with resistance — then he felt his paw reach empty air. With one last vigorous kick, he propelled himself upward and his head broke the surface. To his relief, the water had elevated him high enough to reach the top of the riverbed. The front of the tidal bore was now far ahead of him, and as its current began to let up a little, he managed to brace himself against a pivot in the trench and haul himself up.

Kopa shook the water from his fur, though the rain showed no sign of letting up. He lowered his head and let the water drip from his mane, panting from exertion as he stared into the rapidly flooding riverbed. "You can't hurt me," he said defiantly. "I don't have to be scared of you."

The surrounding landscape was lit up by another bolt of lightning, and it was then that he saw them — nine or ten hyenas, their silhouettes etched against the night as the flash was reflected in their eyes. They were closing in on all sides, quickly enough that he could now make out their dark fur with his night vision.

Though he hadn't fully regained his breath, Kopa steadied himself and broke into a sprint, running along the trench before the hyenas could surround him. He leaped over the nearest one, who snapped at his hind legs but took a footpaw to the face instead. Landing on the other side without losing speed, Kopa glanced back to see the rest of the hyenas giving chase.

Spotting a bend in the riverbed ahead, he hopped atop a nearby boulder and launched himself over the half-filled trench, and despite an ungraceful tumble that splashed mud all over his pelt, Kopa scrambled up the craggy rocks on the opposite side of the ravine. He made it to the top of the formation—

—and his paw caught on a wet patch of smooth stone, sending him into an unexpected slide down the other side. Kopa leaned back as far as he could, doing his utmost not to lose his balance and start rolling; his paws scraped loose a shower of stones and pebbles before his descent came to a gradual stop at the bottom of the slope.

Peering around, he could see nothing but fallen tree trunks and spiny plants amidst the waning rainfall. Somehow it was even more bleak and dreary than where he had just been — a fact not made better by the hyenas that appeared out of the crudely hewn rocks before him.

The aging hyena at the forefront of the pack bared a grin through yellowed teeth. "Well, well. Look what we have here, boys and girls. No food like home-delivered, am I right?"

Kopa unsheathed his claws. "Your hyenas herded me here," he growled in realization.

The old hyena gave a raucous if slightly unsteady laugh. "Oh, did they? Or maybe you're just more prey than lion if it's this easy to herd you." He winced just then, and confessed, "I'd be out there with them if my bones weren't killing me every time I took a step. You can't do anything fun when you're old."

Behind Kopa, the other hyenas were also sliding their way down the slope with well-practiced ease. Seeing no other way out, he raised his hackles and lowered himself into a fighting stance. "You want to have some fun? Let's see how many hyenas you can put between us before I rip you in half."

The old hyena smirked. "You're on, junior." He nodded to the others, giving them the signal to make their move.

"Banzai? What do you think you're doing?"

Every hyena froze in their tracks as another elderly hyena hobbled into view next to Banzai, who suddenly looked rather sheepish. "Uh, we're taking care of this here lion, Shenzi. He was trespassing."

Shenzi squinted in Kopa's direction for a moment, craning her neck in a way that told him her eyesight was failing. Then to his surprise, she turned and smacked Banzai upside the head.

"Ow!" cried Banzai.

"You think I'm stupid?" Shenzi screeched in his ear. "That ain't a couple of cubs fooling around in the elephant graveyard! It's an adult! What adult lion would enter this dung heap on purpose?"

He rubbed his head ruefully. "So are we still eating him? Yow!" He yelped as she smacked him again.

"No, we're not eating him, beetle-brain! You forget what happened the last time you ticked off the king?"

"What do you think?" muttered Banzai. "I still got scars where the sun don't shine..."

"Well, you're liable to get a few more if Simba finds out you pulled this. We clear?"

Kopa blinked in surprise. "You have history with Simba?"

Shenzi stopped glaring at Banzi to shoot him a withering look. "Not exactly the good kind, but yeah. Who are you supposed to be, his brat?"

"Uh, I guess you could say that."

"No kidding," she snorted. "I was being sarcastic, all you lions look the same to me." She made a disgruntled noise. "Just my luck. In that case, Your Highness, my hyenas will escort you back to the Pride Lands. Or the Outlands, if that's what you prefer."

"Wait," said Kopa suddenly, having remembered something. "If you do know my father, does that mean... do you know a hyena named Fisi by chance?"

Shenzi paused, now eyeing him more closely. "Why?"

"If you do know him, then you probably know why."

She continued to scrutinize him for a moment, before her expression changed and she suddenly burst out into hysterical laughter; Banzai chuckled half-heartedly as well, casting her a confused sidelong glance as he did so.

The matriarch gave him a light shove to silence him, shaking her head mirthfully with a snicker. "Yeah, I think I do. It was you who ended his short-lived reign with that clueless cheetah, wasn't it? He complains about it to anyone who'd listen, and the best part is he still hasn't realized he's the idiot. Okay, yeah, this I gotta see." Still cackling to herself, Shenzi motioned to a nearby hyena. "Go fetch Fisi. I don't care if he's asleep, tell him he's being summoned to my den."

This took a very strange turn, thought Kopa as he watched Shenzi hop down from her perch. Still, I'll take this over having to fight them. He winced upon seeing her fall on her side and hurried forward to help her up.

She stubbornly waved him away, standing back up with a short grunt. "I always forget I can't keep doing that at my age." She gestured for him to follow her, while Banzai leaped down and landed with a pained yelp. She rolled her eyes as Kopa glanced back at him. "Sorry about Banzai. He's loyal, but he's got about as much sense as a pebble."

"Hey, I resemble that remark!" exclaimed Banzai.

"Yeah, you do," Shenzi deadpanned. She cast Kopa a quizzical look. "I gotta admit, I'm surprised you came alone. Then again, it sounds like daddy never told you about us."

"Maybe he did," mused Kopa. "I wouldn't know."

She tilted her head. "Huh?"

He peered around the decrepit conditions, from the hyenas huddled under crumbling pieces of shelter to the rancid, polluted pools of water collecting into every hole and crevice in the ground. "Why stay here? There's gotta be somewhere better for your clan."

"It's not that simple, Your Highness," Shenzi scowled. "There ain't a patch of land around in any direction where we'd be welcome. Even our own brethren in the Outlands won't accept us."

"What did you do that was so bad?"

The question seemed to bemuse her. "You really don't know? About any of it?"

Kopa sighed. "Let's just say I've been away a long time."

She led him to a cracked and dripping stone overhang, where a cross-eyed hyena sat by its entrance. He gave a gibbering laugh upon spotting Shenzi and rushed forward to nuzzle her under the chin. She made a face of disgust and quickly pushed him away. "Okay, alright, I get it! Banzai, take Ed to relieve himself for the night."

"But he already knows where to go," Banzai complained.

Shenzi gave an impatient growl. "Well, you're going to make sure he does go, unless you want him having another accident in the den."

Banzai grumbled in response. "The only thing I hate more than being old is dealing with Ed being old. Come on, Ed." He led the cross-eyed hyena away into the rain.

Kopa followed Shenzi into the den, where he saw eight hyenas standing guard along its walls. The matriarch clambered up onto the cluster of flat stones placed against the back wall, and couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy upon noticing her legs trembling as she eased her frail body into a sitting position.

Shenzi caught the look and waved a dismissive paw. "Spare me the pity, kid. I ain't worth it."

"My best friend thinks exactly like you," he said in exasperation. "He didn't even want to try and fix his mistakes, he just wanted to mope and shut himself out. Looks to me like that's what you want too."

"The only thing I want is to make sure my people are looked after once I'm gone," she told him. "They've been through enough because of me."

"They clearly still have faith in you, to tough all this out," Kopa insisted. "They still see your worth, you're not gonna convince me otherwise."

"I ain't gotta convince you." Her expression darkened, and her mouth twisted into a grimace. "I nearly killed your pops twice, both times when he was a cub. Scar gave the order, but I was happy to do it."

Well, that definitely explains a lot. But this didn't shock him terribly. "Would you do it again? Knowing what you know now?"

Shenzi snorted. "You want to know if I regret it? I regret nothing except how things turned out for my clan. I did the best I could with what I got, and I ain't never apologizing for that." Seeing his crestfallen reaction, she exhaled wearily. "Like I said, save your pity for someone who appreciates it. Turning over a new leaf ain't my thing."

"Not even to save your people, like you want so badly?" asked Kopa.

"If only that was all it took," Shenzi muttered, although her tone suggested she didn't outright hate the thought.

Just then another hyena entered the den, rainwater dripping from his fur as he rubbed his eyes. "It's almost my turn for the night shift, Shenzi. Couldn't this wait until the rain stopped?"

She smirked and cast a glance toward Kopa. "There's someone you should meet, Fisi — or meet again, I should say."

Shaking the sopping fur out of his eyes, Fisi took a closer look at Kopa and jumped into the air with an alarmed yelp. "You brought a lion here? Are you nuts?"

The matriarch gestured to the hyenas standing guard around her. "Does it look like I'm being sloppy?"

"Yeah, don't worry about my safety or anything," he scowled. Turning to Kopa, he said, "So... what are you doing here, lion?"

Kopa was knitting his brow in concentration, trying without success to recall what Fisi had looked like in his memory. "You're the one who usurped Simba?"

"Is that what this is about?" asked Fisi nervously. "Because I technically didn't do anything. That cheetah Kesho is the guy you want." He made to leave, but Kopa stood in front of the opening to block him.

"Come on, Fisi, you love telling this story," teased Shenzi, evidently enjoying the show.

"Not to a lion!" Fisi protested.

"It's okay, he doesn't bite."

"Yes, I do," Kopa assured him. "Keep talking. How did you lose the kingdom?"

A disgruntled look crossed the hyena's face. "It was Simba's little headache. He wrangled the answers outta Kesho by smuggling an elephant all the way to Pride Rock. I'm still not sure how he did it, actually..."

Shenzi groaned. "The underground caverns, you moron. There are passageways running beneath the Pride Lands, the kid obviously led the elephant through those."

"Of course," Kopa realized. "Afua knew the caverns better than anyone. That's why I needed him to pull it off."

"And the rest is history," laughed the matriarch. "I bet that crazy monkey of yours painted the whole story somewhere."

Fisi's eyes widened in alarm. "Wait, y—you're the princeling? You're Kopa?"

Kopa bared a wide smile, one that showed far more teeth than was necessary. "Hey, cheater. You're a lot smaller than I remember."

The hyena backpedalled away panickedly, though this time it was Shenzi's hyenas who obstructed him from leaving. "What do you want from me?"

"Show me the way to the gorge." Kopa glanced in Shenzi's direction. "Assuming your offer still stands."

"If this means you're ready to get off my turf," she responded. "That makes two favours though, which means we're even for the second time I tried to kill your dad."

He shrugged. "Sure, whatever you say."

"Why me, boss?" whined Fisi, still eyeing Kopa apprehensively.

"Ain't that the question of my life," Shenzi grunted. "Now get going."

He grumbled some more as he headed back out the den. Kopa made to follow, but stopped to look back at the matriarch one last time. "I'll convince my father to help your people," he promised.

"How?" she growled.

"I don't care how," he said fiercely. "This isn't right, no one should have to live like this."

"But 'should' ain't exactly how life works, is it?" Shenzi reminded him. "It drags you by the throat and won't even let you breathe."

Kopa thought back on everything that had brought him to where he was, how long it had taken him just to make it this far — and how close he was to finally getting the answers he was looking for. "Yeah," he murmured reflectively. "But you either fight the current or you drown."

[Author's Note]
Full disclosure, I have been eager to get this chapter written for a long time specifically because of the last scene. I just love writing the classic TLK hyenas, their voices and mannerisms have a way of popping into your head. I hope I did them justice with respect to the canon, old and decrepit as they may be.