Nala sighed unhappily as the newly proclaimed outcasts were driven off of Pride Rock. She knew the pain they had brought into the land. She herself had felt the pangs of hunger when they killed the herds for the hyenas, and themselves not suffered. Perhaps Simba was right, exiling them; but Nala had seen something he hadn't. A small cub, clinging to the leg of its mother, not whining or generally being angry at the sentence, but crying for food that it would not receive. The anger of Simba was plain on his face, but had he meant to kill that little one? Surely it would starve in the Outlands, as would many others who had done no wrong. Thinking this, Nala approached her childhood friend with a question on her lips. "Was it worth it?"

I was crouched tensely at the edge of my dwelling when the lionesses came back, my mother among them. I was no longer a young cub--I was a mother of three and had had two different mates--and could tell by the look on their face that something was wrong. My mother, Hitite, was limping, and she had such a look of pure contempt written on her face...
Suddenly breathless, I looked for my mate in the crowd and did not see him. "Scar?"
"Dead!" My mother cried. She was old, but her voice was strong with hatred. "Simba killed him!"
"Simba? What! He died long ago!"
My mother turned and snarled, "Well, he's alive now, and Scar isn't coming back! We are now outcasts and are forbidden to return to Pride Rock!"
My oldest son, Nuka, hugged my foreleg and moaned piteously. "But ma-a-a-a! What will we eat?"
"Nothing!" Hissed my mother contemptuously. "We are to starve! If we return, there is a cruel penalty..." she feigned affection towards my son, "...that I dare not speak of before the children."
I stared blankly straight ahead, not responding to her words. "But...Scar can't be dead...he was here only yesterday...he was...Kovu!"
I raced inside my cave, all the way to the back stone wall. There, shivering, huddled deep in a nest of whatever materials I had found, sat Kovu, the runt. Small though he was, Scar had chosen him for his heir. But his size would be his undoing, for, if there was no food, Kovu's ration would be saved for those the lionesses knew would live. Even in his feverish state, the tiny brown cub's eyes opened, and he stretched out one paw to caress my face. I nudged him with my nose and mourned.
"Sad, isn't it," Hitite had appeared next to me and was gazing down at 'the future king'. "He won't survive. Simba has killed him!"
Outside the cavern the lionesses howled and hissed, "Simba! Simba! He has destroyed us!"
I stared down helplessly at Kovu, the baby that would not survive. Him, that I had given borth to and defended and fed! Him that I would try to keep alive over the  months of starving! This little cub, helpless and blind to its fate!
Simba. The name did not sound so warm and friendly, it sounded malevolent, like the strike of a serpent. So the snake had poisoned my kin, but I knew one thing: cut off the head and the serpent will die. If I killed Simba, my son Kovu would not only live, but become King of the Pridelands.
I flexed my claws, realizing I was not young anymore. But...Kovu was!
From that moment my life would be spent training him to hate the Pridelanders. They had made us outcasts! They had killed Scar! They were not to be trusted. So my contempt grew, and so I let it grow.

Nuka was always last in my eyes. Kovu held my attention, and Vitani didn't bother me, but 'Nuke', as I called him, was always seeking to impress me. Then the fateful day came.
Simba was running away like the dog that he was, and Kovu stood waiting near the top. In an odd, concerned tone, he yelled, "Simba!"
"Get him, Kovu! Get him! Do it, now!"
But Kovu turned from the ledge and vanished.
With a cry of, "I'll do it--for you, mother!" Nuka launched up the wood slats. He continued to lose his footing on the jagged and splintered logs, but confidently he called over his shoulder, "Mother! Are you watching? I'm doing it for you!"
My hopes rose as Nuka's claws dug into Simba's back paw. Simba roared with pain but kept scrabbling at the wood.
"This is my moment of glory!" Nuka said, in a quieter voice that was hard for me to hear. But I wasn't really listening, for I saw Nuka's foot crack the branch he was focusing his weight on. It slipped and fell away, throwing my son into the air.
"No!"
It happened too fast...the logs fell...Simba escaped over the dam...then, silence.
Kovu appeared and pulled at the logs that held his brother's broken body hostage. I shoved the traitor roughly aside and caught sight of Nuka. He coughed, his eyes opening slightly. "I'm sorry, mother. I tried."
"Nuke..."
"Well...finally got your attention, didn't I...?" Nuka whispered weakly, and died without another sound.
It was a tiny flame that sparked once again. Simba. The name repeated over and over again in my mind, maddening me. Simba. Simba. He  had starved the younger cubs. He had killed Scar. He had corrupted Kovu. And now, he had killed my first-born son. Simba!
That was the beginning of the end.
And all for the love of Scar.

Kiara hung suspended from the rock face, watching the roaring waters fill the gorge in the red light of dawn. Below her, Zira also held to the rocky face, panting for breath. Kiara knew Zira was facing death if she didn't accept help. Without hesitation the young female offered it.
The hate-hardened lioness growled and swiped her claws at her enemy's daughter, immediately regretting the action as she sank lower down.
"Zira, come on!" Kiara cried, almost desperately. "I'll help you."
With her claws skidding down, Zira looked down and was torn. It was either death, or to accept help from someone she had hunted for years.
Zira did not let go of the cliff, but only watched as her claws failed her. She was swept under the raging current in seconds.
Above, Kovu closed his eyes with a sigh. It was ended.


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