dedication and love never wavered. She was determined to help him run the pride with all the dignity and respect he deserved.

And of course Simba. Poor, poor Simba. This was not like losing a father to a jealous uncle. No, that could be healed, even if it took a long time. This was different, this was so close. So close, he could look to his left and see it wherever he went. And there was no way to tell what was going to happen next.

Arising early, he made his way to the end of the promontory to be alone in the morning breeze. It’s cool touch refreshed his soul, or at least, most of it. Glancing out over the lands, everything seemed so dark. The hyenas now knew the king had a weakness, and it was only a matter of time before they pitted themselves against Pride Rock. The monsoon season was coming, which would force the pride into the rock more often. While the rains were on, hunting would be difficult. There were some tough times ahead, and he knew it. He also knew, that those were the times he was going to have to be strong for the pride.

But how could he? Better yet, how could they? How could the pride put their faith in a king who could not do anything but eat, sleep, and barely get around to mark pridal territory. He couldn’t answer that question, and he didn’t have to. The pride had been so supportive, so interested in his well being that he knew there would be no faltering of trust. But the pain still lingered. Not so much physical as in his mind. He would never be the same again. No more wild romps with Nala at dusk, no more playing wild pounce with his son, or the other cubs, he had to pick and choose his battles to insure that he could stay safe. But he would push on against the wind. He had to.

When so much is dependent on you, you have no choice but to move forward. Put one paw in front of the other and live on. Sure, you might stumble over that old block a few times, but there are those who are alongside you, ready to pick you up and help you along for as long as you need it. Simba, once again showing his wisdom, realized this and stared forward, into the uncertain future.

It has been a long night, but a fair one. These important hours are a bit heavier, with due reason. Along the soft floor, shadows dance slowly about the pridelands, quickening, and waning movements in the growing hours as the dance of morning begins. For some, the touch is sleep; for others, it is the beginning. There is a line. Above it, part of a glowing orb appears.