Two Brothers Under the Sun

Chapter – XIX

Won-tolla

Part 1 - The Cat Who Walks By Himself

Hakuna Matata Falls, northern Bukuvu

As the days passed, the two boys had their own routine. When they were not learning, exploring, or playing around in the jungle, they sat out in the shade and slept and ate and went to sleep again (Bagheera hoped they wouldn't make a habit of it like Baloo); when they felt dirty or hot they swam in the Hippo Springs or at Zulu Falls; when they wanted honey, they would sneak to get some in Baloo's secret stash themselves; when they raced, they instinctively climbed up for the treetops, as Bagheera had drilled in their minds to do so.

The panther had made sure to teach Simba his business and the meaning of all the things in the jungle, until every rustle in the grass, every breath of warm night air, every note of an owl above his head, every scratch of a bat's claws as it roosted for a while on a tree, and every splash of every little fish jumping in a pool meant just as much to him as it did to any creature of the jungle. Just like he had done with Tarzan.

The black panther had him repeat the Hunting Verse: "Feet that make no noise; eyes that can see in the dark; ears that can hear the winds in their lairs, and sharp white teeth, all these things are the marks of a predator." Then, too, Simba was taught the Strangers' Hunting Call, which must be repeated aloud till it is answered, whenever a predator hunts outside his own grounds: "Give me leave to hunt here because I am hungry." And the answer is, "Hunt then for food, but not for pleasure."

All this will show you how much the little lion had to learn by heart, and he grew very tired of saying the same thing over a hundred times.

Soon, Bagheera, as his Teacher of the Law, decided to teach him the jungle's many tongues so he could understand their Safe Words; how to speak softly to the smaller predators when he came upon their burrows; what to say to the bat colonies when he disturbed them in the branches at midday; and how to warn the water-snakes in the pools before he splashed down among them. None of the Jungle People like being disturbed, and all are very ready to fly at an intruder. Something that the lion cub was now learning the hard way.

The chief warthog sprang through the bushes as he led his sounder after the odd pair of cubs, roaring things that Tarzan wouldn't be caught dead saying to his mother.

"I said I didn't mean to insult your daughter!" Simba exclaimed while trying to keep as much distance between himself and the angry hog's curly tusks.

"I don't think they are listening!" Tarzan replied by his side. It had happened so fast: one moment, they were drinking in the river when a warthog piglet joined them, Simba decided to try out some of the words he had learned from Pumbaa —who had offered to help with the boys' lessons by teaching them how to speak in the tongue of the warthog— the little lion let out a series of happy squeals... then the little piggy ran off and came back with a whole sounder of frowning warthogs.

They kept on running through the forest, jumping obstacles, dodging trees, and tryin' to get away until they found themselves surrounded by trunks too steep for them to climb, and the hogs were coming fast. But Tarzan was faster. He used his wooden 'fang' to catapult himself and Simba over the pigs' heads and then they ran up a tree to get to the safety of its highest limbs. Having finally made it to a safe place, the cubs watched as the warthogs looked around the area for some time before going away, having failed to spot the pair up in the tree.

Lounging in the branch next to theirs, Bagheera waved his head. Simba was a fast learner and remembered his lessons well, yet the little lion just couldn't get the accent right. At least, teaching him the tongues of the jungle was proving to be easier than getting him to move through the jungle in silence.

He and Tarzan were such a noisy pair.

The leopard got on his feet as his students sled down the tree trunk, heads ringing like a bee tree, in order to reach the ground. He descended to join them.

"That was a good try," he offered to his newest apprentice. "But try for the birds next time."

The boys nodded back, and Bagheera's eyes drifted to the man-cub's head. Ever since he first saw it, the feline couldn't help but stare as Tarzan walked to him with a layer of mud covering his vine-like strands, making them look thicker than usual. Apparently, Pumbaa had brought him to his favorite wallowing spot and taught him how to cool himself with the mud. Using a special kind of dirt called 'clay' that's found across the mountainside, the man-cub covered his head from the scalp to the tip of his dreadlocks to moisturize his hair, keeping himself cool and protecting his head from the sun's rays. On one hand, Bagheera could understand his student's efforts to deal with the heat (remembering very well what had happened the last time he slept exposed to the sun, the poor thing was even hallucinating that the SUN spoke to him and said it was going to teach it's secrets... just what were they putting in those slushies?), on the other, the panther found the idea of a wallowing ape to be odd. Then again, Tarzan didn't have any removable skin layers to take off or to put over his head on the sunny days, as Bagheera remembered his kind would do. Ultimately, as he had done so when Tarzan had gotten himself a 'fang', the leopard decided to leave it be... after he got Pumbaa to promise he wouldn't bring Tarzan to some 'mud' holes in particular and that the man-cub would not bath in every wallow he came across without the warthog making sure it was safe first.

To that, Pumbaa assured Bagheera by proudly stating that finding the best mud to wallow was what warthogs did best... and no animal would ever argue against that.

That same day, Bagheera decided that as much as the Ways of Men baffled him to this day... more confusing were the Ways of the Jungle Man. At least, his hair wouldn't get in the way during combat practice.

"Let's get out of here quick, before anything else happens". He moved ahead and his disciples knew to follow after him. As the trio left, a familiar duo of onlookers watched after them from a short distance away.

"Uh, Pumbaa... what exactly did Simba say?" Timon asked after watching the early scene.

"I-I would rather not say it." Said his flushed warthog friend.

###

When Bagheera decided to call it a day, the evening was drawing to a close. It was getting dark, and the clay in Tarzan's head had hardened into a crusty layer mixed with his hair, so the man-cub decided it was time to wash it off, not like he would need it with the cold night air engulfing the jungle. Bagheera decided to stay to keep an eye on him while Simba went ahead to meet the others at the base of the waterfall's cliffside.

Timon let out a satisfied belch as he walked away from the termite mounds. "It's good to eat, but it is better to have eaten."

"Who loves berries?" Terk asked rhetorically from atop a tree before munching down some monkey berries, purple juice dripping down to her chin.

Down at the ground level, Baloo pulled down a branch to bring the fruits to his mouth. "I know that I do."

"Well, shouldn't we wash them first?" Tantor questioned as he analyzed one of the berries using his trunk. "I mean, we don't even know where they've been."

"They've been here, but I know where they are going," Terk responded before sending another handful down to her stomach. "Ready for the main course, Uncle Baloo?"

"Terk, when have I not been ready for food?" The bear raised his head and opened his mouth so the she-ape could drop a whole lot of berries directly into his maw.

Pumbaa was relaxing in the bubbling hot tub pool. Timon approached, dabbed a toe in the hot water, and eased himself in. "Ooh! Ah! Ahhhh." He slips into the water. "Just what the doctor ordered."

His warthog friend, who was leaning on the shore by his side, nodded. "Yep. After a long day of doing nothing, it's good to kick back."

Simba, meanwhile, was enjoying his new favorite treat. "That ain't nothing tastier than a spring melon, or two." He grinned, took a big bite out of the melon with his powerful jaws, ate the fruit, turned his head, and spit out the seeds. Accidentally hitting his incoming teacher in the process.

"Hey!" Bagheera exclaimed.

"Say what?" Terk shouted in surprise then, abruptly, a bunch of berries fell to her head. Now disoriented, the she-ape lost balance and came down to the ground, hard.

'THUMP'

Her cousin, now with his hair soaking, came to check her over. "Are you okay, Terk?"

"Tarzan?" The dizzy gorilla looked up at the scrawnier ape from her position on the ground. "Gee, I must have shrunk."

"Nah, you are just laying on your stomach."

"Huh?" She blinked.

"Your belly." He clarified. "It is beneath you."

"Well, so she is." Terk couldn't help but chuckle as she got back on her feet before giving her belly a massage. "Heh-heh-heh, atta girl, Bessy. You saved me again."

"You sure know how to make an entrance, Baggy," Baloo commented while the panther walked up to him, his eyes as critical as ever.

"And you boys sure know how to make a mess." He looked around for all the bits and pieces of fruit scattered across the clearing.

"Why, thank you, Baggy." The bear replied, as he often did to the feline, humorously. The bear then perked his eyes upward. "Look at them go."

Tarzan and Simba had moved to the canopy, flying into the air, trampolining off across the tree branches, and bouncing between the ground and back to the treetops again. Terk went to join them and a trio of younglings started to move rapidly above the grownups' heads as they dodged obstacles by running, jumping, and climbing.

Baloo let out a whistle, eyes glued to the kids. "They look like a pair of gazelles."

"If they keep this up, they could challenge the Bandar-log someday." Remarked Timon.

Bagheera silently hoped they wouldn't put them to the test.

"You're the one who taught the boys to do that, Bagheera?" Pumbaa asked.

A prideful glint appeared on the panther's eyes. "Yes, but I can't take all the credit." He replied modestly. "That's the result of their hard work."

"Work?" Timon made a face. "Please, Baggy, watch your language around here."

Bagheera made a face as well, for exactly the opposite reason the meerkat was doing his.

"I get hungry just thinking of it." Baloo raised his snout, catching a delicious smell. "Umm, my nose tells me there is a fig patch just around the next bend," Baloo said before getting up and taking off in the direction where the younglings had left, always eager for his next snack.

"Hey, wait for me!" Tantor chased after the group. Without much else to do, Bagheera decided to do the same until it was time take the little apes home.

Timon got out of the tub, and sat atop a boulder in the bright Bukuvian sunlight, basking beneath the heat of the evening. The meerkat sighed in contentment and started to hum to the tune of his favorite song without a care in the world as he pulled a leaf to dry himself off. After wrapping it around his waist, he took to leisurely strolling by the clearing.

To him, there was no better way to spend a peaceful time than enjoying the confluence of all of his favorite things: penthouse, spa, food, friends, bones...

...

...

Wait a second...

"GYAAAH!"

The peaceful atmosphere was broken when Timon let out a terrified scream.

Laying on the ground no less than ten feet away from him was the complete skeleton of a bull antelope, of what kind, he couldn't tell. It had been completely stripped off of its flesh.

"Hey, Pumbaa, take a look at this," Timon called out to his companion as he backed away from the pile of bones.

"What is it, Timon?" Coming out of the thicket, Pumbaa approached the skeleton. Never one with fast wits, the warthog came up with a conclusion of his own. "Looks like some weird kind of shrub."

"That is no shrub, Pumbaa!" The horrified meerkat was quick to clear it out to his friend. "That is what your insides look like without your outsides on them."

"But if they are 'insides' how can they be 'outside'?" The warthog asked in confusion, as he most often did. Another sound cut in before Timon could say anything.

The two friends snapped their heads westward. They could hear nothing except the water rushing and gurgling in the Waingunga, and the light winds among the tree-tops, till suddenly across the river a gazelle called. It was not one from the herds in the area, for they were all near the wide-open plains by the Falls. The note changed to a long, despairing moan; and "Dhole!" it said, "Dhole! dhole! dhole!" They heard tired feet on the rocks, and a female, streaked with red on her flanks, flung herself towards them. The pair screamed and scrammed out of the way, giving space for her landing. The gazelle then laid gasping at the pair's feet.

"Whoa." Timon didn't contain his whistle when he took a good look at the female. "You okay there?"

"I-I guess so." Even as she said that she was struggling to catch her breath.

"What happened to you?" asked a concerned Pumbaa.

"Haven't you heard?" She fully turned to speak to them, that was when she panted, and they could see her heartbeats shake her body backward and forward. "The red dogs are hunting around here. They came east from the west and killed some of my herd along the way. None of us are safe."

"Maybe back there you weren't, but here you are," Timon assured her and Pumbaa nodded.

"Yeah, you'll be fine if you stay by our side."

Suddenly, an eerie whistle rose and sank and wavered and quavered far away across the Waingunga. The three stopped at once, their eyes shrunk and they turned to where the sound was coming... and came face-to-face with a bristling group of dholes.

"Nice doggy." Timon stiffened, hiding behind his friend's trembling bulk. The gazelle wasn't faring much better. "My, what big teeth you got there."

Big sharp teeth, which they all were flashing at them in sinister grins. "Well, well. What shall we eat today?" One of them, the leader, turned to the gazelle. "I was in the mood for fast food." His gaze shifted to Pumbaa. "But I might go for some bacon..."

"I-I am fat!" The warthog tried to dissuade them from eating him. "I'm pure fat!"

"Ooh." His eyes now cocked to the mongoose, whose head was popping behind the pig. "How about a meerkat kebab?"

"Oh, you wouldn't want me." Timon frantically shook his head. "I am just skin and bones."

"Now, hold on a second, Mr. Dhole." Regaining his stupor, Pumbaa stares the red dog right in the eye. "This is our place. We make the rules. Right, Timon?"

"Y-y-y-y-yeah, he's right." Timon finally was able to get his goosebumps in check. Not like that would be enough to get him away from Pumbaa's side, no siree. "Besides, you guys have no right here."

"Might makes right, pipsqueak." The dog said, trusting his head a little too close to Timon and Pumbaa's liking.

"Care to tell that to my face, doggy?"

The dholes stopped smiling.

"Ha, Baloo!" Timon cheered.

The biggest 'predator' on this side of the jungle surged between the two groups. Bagheera leaped off the canopy to join him. Tantor maintained a safe distance behind a tree and hoped this wouldn't devolve into a brawl. From their vantage point in the tree's crown, the youngling trio watched the stand-off between the mighty beasts.

"If you touch one hair on them, you answer to me," Baloo smirked while cracking his knuckles.

The dog backed down without changing his stance. "Don't get your fur in a bunch, tubby. I'm not in the mood for pork anyway." His eyes fell on the gazelle and he licked his lips, making her cower in fear. "No. I have a craving for venison."

"Well, too bad for you, pal." Baloo stepped forward, sending a reassuring wink to the cow before going back to addressing the dhole leader. "She walked into our area, so she belongs to us."

"What?" The leader aimed an indignant sneer at the sloth bear. "You will take food off our mouths, is that it?!"

"Your group has wandered too far from Pinnacle Rock." Bagheera pointed out, getting the canines' attention. "This is Baloo's land."

"That's right!" Feeling safer between friendly faces, Timon called out loud to the trespassers and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "You guys are outnumbered so get out of our home range!"

The dhole leader growled furiously at the mongoose and was about to give him a piece of his mind when the latter jumped to Baloo's snout. The bear, already a giant to most of the jungle's inhabitants, made the small canine look like a whining puppy. The scrunched eyes and feral smirk looking down at him caused the dholes to freeze in place. The last bit of their bravado was blown away when Timon gave a light kick to the side of Baloo's muzzle, making three pairs of sharp fangs poop into view. Two of the dogs assumed a submissive posture while their leader had to bite his own lip to snap himself out of it. Judging that was enough for them to get the message, Baloo lessened his expression. The dholes started to move away but the leader still made sure to at least send one last glare to the panther.

"This isn't over, Won-tolla." His declaration came with a snarl. "I promise you that."

Bagheera cocked his head after hearing the word. Then, a deep frown formed on his face.

"Good hunting to you too." Baloo, also scowling, finished the conversation in favor of the feline.

Once the dholes had finally left, the others came over to cheer on the two beasts. Even then, Bagheera kept his silence, catching his two students off guard. Recognizing what was on the panther's mind, Baloo intervened by inviting everyone to celebrate at his den, hoping to get everyone's thoughts away from what had just transpired.

But a question had already been planted on the heads of the cubs:

Won-tolla?

###

As time passed, the results of the training were starting to show to the two cubs. Tarzan had been getting brawnier over time due to his new routine: while more lean than muscular, the boy now had developing six-pack abs and his biceps were growing strong. His pecs were also turning surprisingly solid. He still looked inadequate next to the other younglings in the troop, some of which towered him and made him look like a twig; though, to be fair, Mungo had Sokwe's built and muscled form, making him look barely smaller than the older younglings.

Now, as for Simba...

The lion cub got flopped onto his back, rolled, and dragged himself up, his head was ringing.

"Once more," Bagheera said. "This time anticipate my move. Don't expect me to stand still."

The lemony trunks cast dark stripes onto the carpet of leaves that formed an arena for the teacher and his disciple, who spar on and on, the lion cub throwing himself at the panther, the bigger cat dodging each of his strokes with ease or turning them into counter strokes.

Simba charged at the panther again, humiliation showing in his voice. "I already learned this stuff."

Bagheera merely sidestepped, slicing Simba's feet from under him with a single flick of a paw, sending the cub nosing into the leaves.

"So I see." He remarked with dry humor.

Simba got up, swiping the leaf stuck on his nose.

"You taught me how to hunt." The lion replied.

"But never anything that could fight back." Pointed out the leopard.

Simba flushed for a second, he leaped at his teacher once more; with predictable results. This time, he stayed down. Bagheera slowly padded over to him.

"Simba, do you know what is it you are aiming for?" The teacher spoke seriously yet with calm, his student listened from the ground. "This isn't like taking down a small prey, where a single claw in the haunch will do."

"There is only one place that matters in a fight between two predators, and every warrior knows where it is, and will strike for it, and every other fighter will protect it to his last ounce of breath."

Curiosity roused, Simba's self-pity begins to ebb. Bagheera leaned down, exposing the base of his neck, the very gesture was an act of faith.

"Right here. At the end of the spine."

He lifted his head very slowly and stared his pupil dead in the eye.

"You see, all this shag you have has a purpose." Said the panther, having consulted with the Colonel, who had encountered many lions through his life and been of great help teaching the jungle cat about them. "Like the turtle's shell or the rhino's hide; your mane is your armor. And to win a fight against another lion you must pierce that armor; while making sure your own is never pierced. If your enemy knows you are attacking, he will defend himself." While lecturing, Bagheera demonstrated the moves in slow, fluid motions. "But... if he thinks you are vulnerable... he will rush in for the kill. And forget his own defense."

Bagheera feinted suddenly, making Simba flinch. His teacher pretended not to notice.

"So, in a sense, fighting is a lot like hunting: the best time to move against your enemy is when he is unaware of the danger."

Simba's baffled look brought a smile to the leopard's face, Bagheera took a step away and crouched down next to the youngling. "Come at me."

Simba hesitated, knowing he is going to get it somehow but is too hooked in to resist.

He lunged at the panther, who, not a micro-second too soon, dropped suddenly and rolled into the charge, coming to his feet as Simba tried to lurch back in response, the lurch robbing his thrust while Bagheera sprung up with full power, parallel to Simba's spine. He pushed his apprentice to the ground, teeth set for the killing bite, the whole move over in a quarter second. Simba was so stunned, so impressed, that he laughed.

His teacher smiled too. "You try it."

The cub nodded. They set up. But this time, Simba moves too soon: he rolls and comes up to smash into Bagheera full front.

The cub pulled away, shaking the kinks out of his neck. He turns to his teacher. "One more time."

Bagheera nodded once more. This time, Simba gets down in time, his roll is good but his spring is off balance and he ends up with a bite of Bagheera's tail, making the latter yowl in pain. The cub spitted out the tail, disgusted with himself.

Bagheera shrugged off the pain before addressing him again. "Very good. You've got the motions. The rest is practice." He told him and positioned himself to continue. "Once more. Just once."

While he had a long way to go until he could give a proper fight to Bagheera or Baloo, Simba already was strong enough to wrestle with Terk and Tarzan and even beat the she-ape to the floor during a spar once from what Bagheera had heard. Still, no growing red mane, and his roar still needed some work.

At the moment, Tarzan was practicing grappling and swiping techniques with Baloo in one of their one-on-one sessions.

"Now, let's go once more." The bear and the man-cub circled around each other with raised arms. "I want you to keep circlin', or I'm gonna knock your roof in again," Baloo instructed the boy as the two of them tried to fool their opponent with erratic dodges and fake swipes. "You'd better keep movin'-"

'THUMP'

That was Tarzan jumped and threw a hook right under his chin.

"Hey!" Baloo smiled as he stroked the area. "Right on the button." Pretending to be groggy from the punch, he spun like a ditzy and pretended to lose equilibrium before falling on his belly. Tarzan hopped to his back and struggled to get himself in a good position, tickling his teacher in the process. "No. No, no. No, no. Now you're ticklin'."

The youngling smirked after hearing that and started scratching the bear's back with vigor.

"No." Baloo laughed and squirmed on the floor. "No, no, we don't do that here in the... No!" The ursine was now rolling in the ground as the man-cub moved to reach for his belly. "No, you're ticklin'. I can't stand that ticklin'." Poor Baloo seemed to be pretty close to peeing on himself. "Help! Bagheera!"

Unfortunately, he wouldn't get much sympathy from the panther outside of a facepalm. "Stop playing around, Baloo. You weren't supposed to go that easy on him." Argued Bagheera. "The cubs have to learn the Ways of the Jungle if they are to survive."

"But they are so small," The sloth bear, who would have spoiled both boys if he had had his own way, grabbed the Tarzan in a noogie while the latter tried to get out of his hold. "How can their little heads carry all that long talk?"

"Is there anything in the jungle too little to be killed?" That was a rhetorical question. "No, and neither of them will be cubs forever. That is why I teach them these things,"

Bagheera suddenly stood perfectly still, noticing the shadows of the trees behind them knitting together over a familiar shape. But Tarzan was the first to spot the one that created it.

"Hey, that's mine!" He sprang off Baloo's arms and chased after when the red dog disappeared in the bushes with his wooden fang. His rush snaps the other's attention to the thief and they all join the pursuit.

The man-cub skillfully traversed the narrow path within the twisted trunks of the lemony trees and came out near a small stream. Catching the splash of something small sinking in the water and vanishing in its currents, he felt his heart sink too. Angrily clenching his fists, he looked beyond the riverbank for any signs of the culprit. He found her heading westward and immediately recognized who it was, turning his anger into confusion. Lala snapped her head to face the boy, giving him one last glare before turning tail when she saw the bear making haste through the creek, visibly not in the mood for a civilized conversation after what she had just pulled. Leaving Tarzan alone and despondent in the afternoon sun, which started encrusting the mud in his hair strands.

Bagheera, who had watched from the rise beyond, gave out a muted sigh. His expression: philosophical, mirroring Tarzan's in some small way. He trots back, rejoining his student.

"Lala is her name, I believe...?"

Tarzan looked up to his teacher: "how did you know that?"

Bagheera smiled and winked: "I keep track of them all."

And then, his smile softened, his tone along with it.

"She can no longer be your friend." He stated. "But you will be hers... in ways she may never understand."

Now, the man-cub was puzzled. Simba, who had tried to keep track of the chase, appeared soon after.

"She got away." puffed the little lion, his head dropping.

"I want you two to stay close to Baloo's den, where it's safer," Bagheera told them, hiding his worry under a stoic face. "The red dogs have been way too agitated these days. You must not go near them."

"But they are not that bad," Tarzan replied. "We have been playing Kasaba Ball with Lala in the middle lands and we never had any trouble."

"Yeah, I mean, they didn't really do anything wrong." Pointed out the lion cub.

Bagheera raised an eyebrow at the pair, Tarzan in particular. "May I point out that she just took away your fang?"

"So? I can just ask Baloo to make me another." The boy replied.

"It is the mark of a wise animal to know who to trust, boys." The teacher spelled out another lesson to his students. "Never forget that. The mother of the wildebeest calf we rescued from the river trusted you and you saved its child. Bundo, on the other hand, attacked you and betrayed the Colonel's trust."

"That was a long time ago," Simba responded. "Perhaps they've changed."

Tarzan stepped in too. "Have you tried talking to them?

"It's not that simple." The leopard shook his head, a serene look then came to his face. "I wanted to talk," He explained as he turned, ready to drop the matter and walk away. "But they don't."

The boys paused and shared a look. Their teacher had been acting strange since the day when they had their first game of Kasaba Ball. Tarzan had asked his mother but all she knew was that it had something to do with his last meeting with the dhole clan... and, the boys noticed, it got worse since yesterday.

"Bagheera, what's a Won-tolla?"

The uttering came from Tarzan, and it was enough to make the panther cease its pace. His students stayed in place, facing their mentor's back, waiting for a reaction of any kind. It finally came in the form of his ears dropping.

"'Won-tolla' is another name for 'Outlier'— it's an animal who lies out from any Pack." They heard him breathe out his words as if they caused him to pant. "A solitary creature that fends for himself, like me."

Both cubs felt their eyes widen but they didn't turn them away from the leopard. It was at that moment when Tarzan remembered that, while he saw the panther every day, he had never seen him hanging around the Wakalu if it wasn't to speak directly to his mother or Kerchak, and the only time he seemed to go out of his way to speak with others was to do business with them or when he had a lesson to teach him and Simba.

Other than that, he was mostly on his own. A cat that walks by himself.

Tarzan was the first one to join Bagheera's side, offering him a sympathetic glance.

"But... aren't there other panthers?"

The big cat sighed. "You already meet one of them. Her pelt is lighter than mine but still..." He trailed off, giving his student time to process that statement. When his eyes grew white, he wasn't surprised.

"...Her?" The boy said cryptically, not wanting to utter the Lawbreaker's name. Bagheera understood that and just gave him another nod.

Simba came next, himself an 'Outlier' until he was taken in by Baloo, with a question of his own. "So, when'd you figure out you were a Won-tolla?"

Bagheera stiffened before grunting. "That's in the past." He shifted his attention to the far horizon. "All in the past."

But Tarzan's curiosity had sparked as well. "What happened?"

"Nothing, it's always been like this for me." He admitted, "Never staying in a place for too long, never depending on anyone but myself."

"You were an Outlander?"

"I was."

"You never had your own Pride, I mean, Pack?" Simba corrected his own question.

A tiny chuckle emitted from the panther's mouth. "A group of my kind would be a 'Leap'." He clarified to the lion. "And no, I joined a group once but it didn't work."

The way he grumbled the last part made the boys hesitate, but one doubt remained in Simba's mind.

"Then what made you stay here?"

Bagheera stared at them once more, for a moment or two. It looked like he was keeping a whole mix of thoughts in his head, no doubt one of them being whether or not he should share the rest with his apprentices. Ultimately, he merely shook his head.

"That's a story for another time." He waved his paw at them, 'brushing' the topic aside. "Now, let's focus back on your training." He sprang to the branches, getting some distance between him and the cubs. "We will take a look around the jungle afterward."

Like that, he leaped off. Tarzan and Simba meet each other's gaze, sharing looks of concern with bits of confusion. The man-cub gave a shrug nonetheless and went after the panther, his friend right going behind him.

###

Waingunga River, northern Bukuvu

A light breeze came down from the mountains, hitting the face of the smiling lion cub.

He was just standing there, watching the scenery of the jungle passing by. The feeling of the lazy current below was making him feel strangely at ease and he didn't care about figuring out why, all he knew was that he liked it. It was like resting on a nice, comfy bed while his tired eyes made him drift between real life and the dreamland.

Yet, knowing that he was awake just made the current experience feel even better.

"Don't go falling off into the river, little Simba." The sound of Pua's voice was heard beneath him.

"How much further, Pua?" The youngling had enjoyed the ride on the back of the friendly crocodile through the Waingunga that the thought of getting home had escaped him.

"We are almost there." replied the elderly reptile.

Baloo sighed as he drifted beside them, also utterly relaxed. "This is really livin', eh little man?"

"I like being a bear." Tarzan declared as he lay on the ursine's belly.

"That's my boy." Baloo laughed, rubbing his surrogate nephew's head and glancing between him and Simba. "And the two of you're gonna make two swell bears."

Pua chuckled while they were inching closer to the shore. "Don't you think you should talk to Tarzan's mother and their teacher about that first?"

"Meh, let's let the boys decide." The bear said lightly.

Tarzan's feet were the first ones to land on solid ground. "Simba, come on!"

"Hold on, I'm coming!" The lion bolted off the crocodile on his friend's tail.

"Phew, that's enough for today." Pua's moan came out tired and he shifted to make his way back to the river. "See you tomorrow."

"Sure you don't wanna stick around, Pua?" Baloo offered. "We will be having dinner with the gorillas tonight."

He shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, Baloo. But I still have to catch my lunch." He paddled back towards the water. "See you soon."

Baloo watched after the croc as he dived deeper into the Waingunga.

"Baloo, what's the matter?" The bear looked down and was surprised to find the boys looking up at him with concerned eyes.

That's when he cursed himself for not realizing they would catch on to the gloomy look on his face. Gulping down his reservations about trying to explain such things to children, he laid out for them:

"Pua lost his game this morning," His tone sounded uncharacteristically lamenting, though soft. "I don't think he will be able to hunt anymore."

He had heard about it earlier that day. Baggy had given the croc his word when they made that alliance and that hadn't changed even after that Mashindano. The black-velvet leopard had pursued a group of deer and forced them in the direction of the water hole, where Pua awaited. The old croc plunged downward through the currents, to the stream at the bottom of the valley. There he checked, for he heard the bellows of the incoming Sambhur, and the snort as the bucks turned at bay. The Undertaker sprung and missed his hold, the empty snap of his jaws was heard across the riverbank, followed by a yelp as the Sambhur knocked him over with his forefoot. Another kill missed; a foreboding sign for any predator. One that Baloo knew all too well.

Pua was too old and getting fleeber as the days passed. Now a hunter of nothing more than lizards and frogs, it was only a matter of time until what would be his last hunt.

"Don't worry, Baloo." Tarzan put a hand on the bear's shoulder. "Pua may be old but he is still strong."

'That won't make the prey any easier for him to catch.' The realistic part of his mind, which sounded an awful lot like Bagheera, oddly enough, came up with a retort but he couldn't bring himself to share it with the cubs. Their smiles would turn upside down.

Huh, who knew that parenting could be so difficult?

"Baloo!" A voice was heard calling in the distance, making the group aim their attention in its direction. It was Lara, the gazelle they had saved yesterday, all healed but looking incredibly distraught. "Baloo!" She kept on yelling even as she made her toward them. "Baloo!"

"Whoa!" Baloo exclaimed while raising a hand, causing the cow to skid to a halt. "Easy there, twinkle toes!"

"Baloo!" She addressed the bear in relief. "Thank goodness I have found you!"

"Was that Lara? She rang or was that just my ears?" Timon's grumble came from behind a tree root, by his expression, one could guess he had been rudely woken up from a nice nap. Pumbaa was there too.

Lara took a moment to inhale some air before speaking again. "There is trouble downriver!"

"This isn't about work, is it?" Coming over to join the bear's group, the meerkat sneezed. "I am allergic to the stuff."

"What's going on?" Pumbaa asked.

"There is trouble back in the Rock!"

Baloo chortled at the mention of the dholes' den, "What, did Bundo find thorns stuck on his toes?" He joked. "Because that explains a lot."

"This is serious, guys!" Terk's voice barged into the conversation. The young gorilla surged from the treetops, she looked as frantic as the gazelle. "The dogs have accused Baggy of stealing from them!"

A/N: Well, what can I say? This was meant to be one chapter but it ended up extending to two... really sorry to keep you guys waiting. Anyway, come watch the conclusion of this two-parter in the next chapter of Two Brothers Under the Sun (now with a Tropedia page ('cause Tv Tropes doesn't respect me.))