you.”

That sound, those calls: so empty. They fall through me still. Most evenings he calls as if he were his father; still standing there, still calling. No one answers. I don’t. I still want to: to go to him, to be with him, but it’s too late. Our time has past. We’ll soon see him, as we get out these trees; the moon silvering his mane. The stars looking down; a new one somewhere now.

“Look, he’s calling for you.”

No, he’s calling to other nearby lions, claiming his territory, placing the borders of the Pridelands.

“He’s waiting up there. He’s not been with any other lioness. He’s waiting for you. Go to him.”

“Yes Sarabi, go.”

“Mother, Saffi: you two go on ahead.”

“Come on Sarafina, let’s go home”

“We’re not getting any younger Sassi. We ought to have had cubs by now, both of us. Ahadi is gone, and your mother and mine have had their time; this is ours. It’s not as if you can say you hate Mufasa, can you?”

“Please Saffi; I just want to be on my own for a while.”

“Come on Sarafina! It’s getting chilly out here!”

“Yes Narala. I’m coming…. Don’t stay out too late: I don’t know how much more ‘advice’ on hunting from your mother I can take.”

Just go. Leave me. He’ll stop in a bit, and then I’ll be along. It’s such a lovely night I’ll just sit here for a while. “Yes.”

It is a beautiful night. There’s only one thing that could make it better, and he’s standing on that rock. I could go to him now, but what do I say? Anyway, in my state I wouldn’t have to say a lot, he’d get the idea pretty quick, or else he’s not the lion I thought he was. Aaach no, who am I kidding? Now can I? After everything that’s happened? How can I? Go home Sassi, go home.

Saffi’s trying to be kind. Mother… well, she’s just being mother. Not sure what she means by Scar… He wasn’t anywhere near Ahadi apparently… so he says. Who’s to know?

Oh, he’s not there anymore! Stopped calling for the night I suppose. I can just slip by now, keeping far out of sight. I can slip up the ridge, along the far side. He’ll not see me now, no one will.

Mother and Saffi got away easily; where are they now? Did they stay on the rock’s side of the ridge? Why hide? I can go along the top, in the moonlight. Just up here a bit, round that scrub, and…

There he is! Downslope, looking lost damn it. Why? What should I do? I should go home, and save Saffi, but should I? He sees me, he knows I’m here. I can’t pretend I haven’t seen him. Anyway, it is a beautiful night, and he’s, well, looking very… he’s Mufasa, of course he’s liony, he’s a lion.

How? How to do this? What is he expecting? I know he’s expecting that, that’s not the point. How do I? Ooh, how? Go to him. Be with him. Move closer: still lengths off. He’s looking. He’s looking to the stars! No, now he’s looking at me; his eyes soft and big. His ears ringed with moonlight. His mane floating in the pool of stars. Closer. No words.

He wants a queen. He wants a proper queen. He wants Sarabi, not Sassi. So be Sarabi. Head up, tread deliberately. Say nothing. Go to him. Closer.

He can smell me by now. He knows… he knows. He’s smiling gently, lovingly, longing for me. Closer. Close.

“Sarabi… err I… I mean... it’s a lovely night isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Did I just say yes? Oh I mean… no, I don’t know what I mean. I know what I want.

“I know you said you’d tell me when you were ready to see me. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry. I know how much you value your independence: that you’re your own lioness.”

“Don’t go Mufasa.” Sarabi, be Sarabi. Press against him, shoulder to shoulder. Move on, slip alongside him, flank to flank. “No Mufasa: after sunset…” Lift hindquarters up a little. He’ll get the message. “…I’m your lioness.”

~oOOo~

Really cool? Hmm, what’s he up to? Nowhere’s cool in this weather, certainly not this rock now the shade’s moved off.  Ah well, what trouble can he get up to at his age? “So where is this ‘really cool’ place?”

“Oh. Uh... around the waterhole.”

Waterhole? And I’m a hippo’s mother… but I was a bit like that once.

“The waterhole? What's so great about the water hole?”

That’s Nala, just like your mother Saffi.

“I'll show you when we get there.”

Waterhole… OK, not so bad. I can live with that, but not on their own.

“Oh…Uh... Mom, can I go with Simba?”

“I don’t know, weren’t there hyenas running around this morning? What do you think Sarabi?”

You’ve got a point there, and yes, you can get in to trouble at the waterhole. Maybe it’s not such a good idea after all, but it is just the waterhole. “It’s alright with me.” So… ah yes, I know, someone to accompany them, but who? I know, but they’re not going to like this,”…as long as Zazu goes with you.”

“Not Zazu!”

Neither do! They’ll be back soon enough, sooner now, and there’s a silver lining. There they go, so keen and full of life. For their sakes’ I just hope Zazu doesn’t mention anything. He’s on his last chance: he’d better not get all “traditional” on Simba. There’s no way I’m forcing any cub of in mine into anything like that; he’ll have to choose for himself, when the time comes.

“Nala, you just had a bath! Try and stay clean for once!”

No chance of that. Anyway, you call that a bath? I call it about the only way I’ll get to have my son in my paws for a moment. We’ll only have to do it all again: it’s not so much a waterhole at the moment, more a mud wallow.

“Zazu? What use is he, Sarabi? At the first sign of trouble he just goes flapping back to Mufasa.”

“Yes he does, doesn’t he?” Why not let Fluffy deal with something for a change? “But just in case, how about us doing a bit of prey watching?”

“Prey watching eh? Yes, why not Sarabi?”