against his wicked green and yellow stare made the lioness gulp in fear, but the male licked his front right paw and slicked back his black mane in a dramatic manner that made him look more attractive . . . although it really didn’t change much of his appearance. He circled around her, looking her up and down from every angle with his eyes. “ . . . quite beautifully, I might add . . .” Just his grin made the lioness cringe.  

Oh, you’re just disgusting . . .“W-what did you want from me?” She asked, wishing that she could escape as quickly as possible once this was over, but mainly she was not intrigued by the thin male’s advances and comments. “You did call for me, right?”

“Oh, why of course I did, child,” He replied back, slowly approaching her form as she continued to step backward as he advanced closer. Soon, she could not back up any further, for a wall of rock guarded against her thoughts of fleeing. “I only wanted to ask you to do something.” 

By the sound of his voice, she was unsure if she wanted him to continue; however, she knew that she might as well allow him to do his duty, as long as the male didn’t try to pursue her again.

“I’m listening,” she spoke up, lifting her head up like her mother and former Queen had told her to do whenever in Scar’s presence – although it was clear that none of the lionesses were happy about Scar’s sudden take-charge attitude on the throne. 

“You know, my dear,” Scar began to speak, sitting up all regal-like in order to get his point across. “I’ve ruled over the Pridelands for almost two years after my brother and nephew’s sudden deaths, and just now, I realized that I’ve been missing something vital to my reign.”

“And what does this have to do with me, Scar?” the she-lion growled, lowering her ears slightly in impatience. 

“I’m getting to that!” Scar leaned up to her face in anger, causing the young lioness to lean her head backwards in fright. Realizing that he had scared her, he backed his head towards the rest of his slim, fiery form and lightly laughed nervously. “Sorry about that . . . heh-heh.” Scar cleared his throat, but the lioness’s glare stared him down with every breath he took. “What I meant to say was that I need something that every previous ruler of the Pridelands has had . . .” His smirk was menacing and dark-hearted as he led to his conclusion, pausing every few moments to tip-toe closer to the young female lion. “Every king . . . has to have . . . a queen . . .” He laughed slightly, the sound pitched louder at one point, echoing against the cavern walls before he silenced himself with a noble move onto a kneeling position. “ . . . and I want you, Nala, . . .” He grasped her left paw with his right paw and leaned his lips towards the peachy-colored flesh in his grip. “ . . . you will be my Queen . . .”

The lioness jerked her paw away from his lips, her claws emerging with a force of displeasure and nearly leaving a mark on his cheek. “Never!” she roared, dodging him by leaping away from his reach. “I will never be your Queen, Scar! You would have to kill me before I would ever –” 

She was silenced by the thundering roar of the furious male, his sound piercing the calming night air of the African savanna. He returned to a more composed demeanor after letting out a cough and an embarrassed, toothy grin that still emanated pure evil. “I apologize; I seem to have forgotten my manners,” He smirked. “I know that this is so sudden and all, but I’ll give you some time to think it over.” Moving his nose against the shuttering peach fur that graced her neck, he murmured in her ear. “After tomorrow’s hunt, I want you to return to me with your answer. I can promise you a better life, Nala . . . a life that will make you the queen of the next generation of our pride . . . Think about that.” Heading to the darker side of his den, he stepped away from her as she maintained her shocked expression. “It is time for me to retire for the night; you may leave, Nala . . . and remember what I promised you . . .”

He ended the conversation with a mighty yowl, causing her to leap to her feet and run out of his cave without turning back. Finally slowing to a halt at the lionesses’ chamber and without any prior warning, the light-colored lioness burst into tears without understanding why she was doing so. The others, including her mother and former Queen, all comforted her, but she knew that none of them could understand the situation that had been laid out in front of her that could change her life. 

- - - - -

Letting out a low growl, she began to return to her hunting position, sniffing out the air for anything that could pass as food. She would have rather become an exile of Pride Rock than to become Scar’s queen, especially since her feelings for her lost love had not wavered due to his accidental demise; the only other option the young lioness had was to at least search for someone that could possibly defeat Scar at his own game . . . ow, I realized that I’ve been missing something vital to my reign.”

“And what does this have to do with me, Scar?” the she-lion growled, lowering her ears slightly in impatience. 

“I’m getting to that!” Scar leaned up to her face in anger, causing the young lioness to lean her head backwards in fright. Realizing that he had scared her, he backed his head towards the rest of his slim, fiery form and lightly laughed nervously. “Sorry about that . . . heh-heh.” Scar cleared his throat, but the lioness’s glare stared him down with every breath he took. “What I meant to say was that I need something that every previous ruler of the Pridelands has had . . .” His smirk was menacing and dark-hearted as he led to his conclusion, pausing every few moments to tip-toe closer to the young female lion. “Every king . . . has to have . . . a queen . . .” He laughed slightly, the sound pitched louder at one point, echoing against the cavern walls before he silenced himself with a noble move onto a kneeling position. “ . . . and I want you, Nala, . . .” He grasped her left paw with his right paw and leaned his lips towards the peachy-colored flesh in his grip. “ . . . you will be my Queen . . .”

The lioness jerked her paw away from his lips, her claws emerging with a force of displeasure and nearly leaving a mark on his cheek. “Never!” she roared, dodging him by leaping away from his reach. “I will never be your Queen, Scar! You would have to kill me before I would ever –” 

She was silenced by the thundering roar of the furious male, his sound piercing the calming night air of the African savanna. He returned to a more composed demeanor after letting out a cough and an embarrassed, toothy grin that still emanated pure evil. “I apologize; I seem to have forgotten my manners,” He smirked. “I know that this is so sudden and all, but I’ll give you some time to think it over.” Moving his nose against the shuttering peach fur that graced her neck, he murmured in her ear. “After tomorrow’s hunt, I want you to return to me with your answer. I can promise you a better life, Nala . . . a life that will make you the queen of the next generation of our pride . . . Think about that.” Heading to the darker side of his den, he stepped away from her as she maintained her shocked expression. “It is time for me to retire for the night; you may leave, Nala . . . and remember what I promised you . . .”

He ended the conversation with a mighty yowl, causing her to leap to her feet and run out of his cave without turning back. Finally slowing to a halt at the lionesses’ chamber and without any prior warning, the light-colored lioness burst into tears without understanding why she was doing so. The others, including her mother and former Queen, all comforted her, but she knew that none of them could understand the situation that had been laid out in front of her that could change her life. 

- - - - -

Letting out a low growl, she began to return to her hunting position, sniffing out the air for anything that could pass as food. She would have rather become an exile of  

If only he were still alive . . . then maybe . . . maybe we would stand a fighting chance against him . . .

No matter how much she prayed it wasn’t true, the lioness knew that it was all for naught; he was gone, becoming a part of the Great Circle of Life far too early within his first year . . . with so much promise to become a great heir to the throne that his own father had passed on to him.  

There was one thing that the lioness didn’t understand: although she had snuck away from Pride Rock during the early night as soon as Scar’s clan of loyal hyenas had fallen asleep after eating mostly all of their kill, she had no idea where she was exactly headed to. She, like many of the other lionesses, had lived in the Pridelands for their entire lives, never having to roam over the borders to search for food, but her personal life depended on where she could lead herself – she was not going to serve that false king ever again. However, there was a strange intuition . . . one that made her feel like she knew where to go, although the area outside of the Pridelands was new to her. Strangely, there were times that she could have sworn that a wind filled with leaves and other sporadic seeds was leading her to the eastern border of the savanna, and not knowing any other way to go, she followed, hoping that perhaps the late King and his son were offering some guidance to the young lioness.

After hours of running through a rocky canyon, crossing a dry, sandy desert, and finally reaching a lush grassland, she had spotted that jungle, envious of the beauty and tranquility that lay within the thin branches that were covered in exotic leaves of dark green. Compared to what Pride Rock and the

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