mandrill seemed unfazed, but appeared to change his countenance a little.

“It was necessary. Very necessary.” he said in a wise tone, “Your shoulder required it to stop the pain.” The two lions looked between each other, then to Simba’s shoulder. To his utter surprise, it did feel better. But before he could enjoy the sensations, Rafiki hustled him to his paws and began to herd him and his mate to Pride Rock.

The journey was not long, and Simba’s complaints about the soreness did not stop Rafiki from getting them there as fast as he could. The main cavern was empty because the lionesses were out preparing for the evening hunt, so it was easy to get Simba in and lying again in a comfortable position. However, he and Nala were not amused at the antics of their mandrill friend.

“What is this about Rafiki? Why are you in so much of a hurry?” The mandrill gazed sadly at Simba and Nala, sighing in his own fatigue.

“I wanted to be sure that you returned before your shoulder stiffens. It can be difficult to move when that happens.” as the two lions looked between each other, Rafiki sighed audibly and put a hand upon Simba’s head, “I will not lie to you, this injury will lead to some tough times ahead. You two will need to support each other more and more. At least for the next three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” Nala asked.

“What about three weeks?” Simba inquired.

“That’s how long you will have to stay in here. You can’t be up on that shoulder, not moving about, and in general not playing around at all.” Rafiki said straightforwardly. Nala was shocked into silence but Simba began to protest.

“What kind of injury is this anyway?” he said, wiggling his arm a bit, “It feels fine again, just a little sore.” Rafiki quickly restrained him, with a stern glare.

“You must NOT do that. If you do, you could hurt your shoulder even more.

“How am I supposed to take care of the pridelands if I can’t get around?” Simba rebutted,

“And how am I going to defend against invaders?” Rafiki gazed into his amber eyes, the first time Simba had ever seen him so intent and concentrated.

“You can’t right now. You have to let the pride help you on this one.” Rafiki spoke in a heavy tone, “This is not an ordinary injury. You have dislocated your shoulder.”

The full implications of Rafiki’s words did not hit Simba until the next morning, where he suddenly felt a painful presence where his trusty old shoulder used to be. The memories of last night’s events swarmed over him like a night after a dreamberry binge. The challenge, the hunt, the injury. It all seemed like a dream, like another lifetime. That was, of course, until he tried to move and his shoulder warned him against it. An unmistakable look of sadness crossed his face, as it all came together in one crashing blow. He was helpless. Simba sighed and lay his head back on the floor. A quick glance outside told him that it was a little past midday.

“Midday?” he thought to himself in surprise, “I must have been more tired than I though. Gods am I ever sore.” While Simba waited for the throbbing soreness to ebb, a lone lioness entered, coming over to Simba in silence.

“My king?” she asked softly. Simba’s head jolted up, startled. His shoulder flared in protest, causing him to growl his discomfort and lie it back down. The lioness jumped, looking somewhat concerned, “D-did I startle you?” Although she knew the answer, Simba tried to make her feel better.

“I’m fine Svelta,” he grunted, “what can I do for you?” Svelta came into full view, and stood before Simba. She was a young lioness, hardly out of adolescence but a real eye catcher. Her fur was a deep beige color, the type that all the lionesses envy because of its match to the savanna grasses. The creamy tips of her paws accented her perfectly shaped digits and the claws that ended them. Her ears were always pert and attentive; however, when they were not, they were folded back in a cute expression of defense. Just by getting a glance of her ears, Simba could tell that she was nervous.

“A-are you going to be okay?” she asked meekly.

“I’m fine.” was the grumpy answer from the lion. Svelta wasn’t finished, and pushed on, still concerned.

“Well, I just wanted to know because the pride-”

“I’m fine Svelta.” Simba said, putting more emphasis on his words and glancing to the lioness. This seemed to make her even more jumpy, especially when he added, “Now just leave me alone.” Svelta half turned, not sure whether she wanted to go or stay.

“B-but Simba, I just wanted to say that-” But she never finished her sentence.

“GET OUT!” Simba roared at her, sending the poor lioness scampering out of the cave. Upon seeing Svelta turn tail and run, Simba immediately regretted what he had done. It was a moment’s passion, caught in the agony of his shoulder and transmitted up into his mouth. He lay his head down again, sighing.

“The poor thing.” he thought to himself, “Now I won’t even know what she had to say.”

A few moments later, Nala burst into the cave with a face set in displeasure. Simba glanced up at Nala, then with a frown put his head back down.

“Why did you run Svelta off like that?”

“Because I didn’t want her looking at me.” grumbled Simba. Nala’s face flashed severe disappointment, and she scolded him.

“Whatever for?! You’re the king, the lionesses have the right to see you.”

“Not like this,” Simba spoke softly, “not weak and helpless lying in a cave in pain.” he looked away, very much depressed, “Not like a helpless cub.” His words startled Nala, and she suddenly realized what was going on in Simba’s head.

“Simba,” she cooed, moving next to him, “Rafiki said this will heal, you just have to be patient. It’ll all get better.” she licked his cheek. The lion sighed, and turned his head to give a nuzzle. It was at that moment that his shoulder twinged him again, causing him to give a yelp of surprise and spin his head quickly the other way. Nala jumped and moved over to his face worriedly. “Simba! Are you okay?” she asked. Simba hid his face and growled softly.

“Tell the pride to stay away from me Nala, and you had better do the same too.”

“What?” Nala said incredulously, “How can you expect me to leave when you are hurting like this!”

“I’ll be okay, just leave me alone.”

“Simba…”

“GO!” he half roared at her. The silence was thick, and as the echo died down quickly the pair experienced a hardness from the other like they had only felt once before. Instead of jumping back, Nala rose slowly, her face setting into determination as she looked at the lion. Simba continued to face the wall, growling softly to himself.

“Fine.” Nala said sharply, in a tone Simba remembered all too well, “But don’t think I don’t know what’s going on here, Simba. I know that you’re proud, and I know you thought you were invincible. But none of us are, and these things happen. And you are NOT going to be able to get through this alone. You had better drop your personal pride and get over this, or else you are going to lose another, more important pride.” She finished definitively, and stormed out to where the lionesses were. Inside the cave, all was silence, except for the gentle plash of tears as they fell to the hard floor.

When Simba awoke the next morning, he felt groggy again. Sleeping with such pain rendered a good night’s rest impossible. Wakeful moments were spent in the same position, in the fear that motion would aggravate the injury into anger again. Sleep was filled with dreams of torture and agony, all focusing on his weakened extremity. Because of his attitude, and the prompting of Nala, the lionesses all slept separate from Simba, leaving him to the night climate alone. Few nights were as miserable as that one, and Simba knew it.

“The morning sun should be warming me by now.” Simba thought absently, “I wonder why not-” He suddenly cut himself off upon the sight of the pride, standing around him and blocking the light. All were staring at him. In his weakened condition, Simba was in no mood for games, and the pressure of all those eyes, cub, adolescent and adult on him was terribly heavy to bear.

“What is the meaning of this?!” he cried out, surprised and somewhat nervous. He made out Nala’s form as she stepped in front of the group and spoke to Simba.

“The meaning of this is for you to grow up a little Simba.” She said plainly. He put his good paw over his eyes and moaned.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” he whimpered a bit too weakly for his normal personality.

“Well,” Nala started, “if you had listened to Svelta when she came in, I sent her to tell you that the pride was behind you all the way on this. But you blew up and sent her out. You even tried to send me out if my memory serves me right. But you don’t have a choice in this one Simba. You are our king, and we are going to help you through this, whether you want us to or not.”

Murmurs from the surrounding lions confirmed Nala’s statement, and Simba sighed aloud, lying his head down again. Anyone who has ever been in a