His voice was smooth, and there was no infliction in it that showed that he meant harm, but I was still uneasy being near him. He may have been Mufasa’s brother, but his face held none of the kindness or compassion that Mufasa did. It was a tragic face that looked as if it had been through much sorrow and pain.

            “Good evening, Scar.” I said uneasily.

            “What are you doing out here in the dark, and so…alone?” he asked in that smooth voice. The last word chilled me.

            “I she thought I was really brave.”

I smiled back at him. “See, you have nothing to worry about.”

I hugged him again, and set him down. He wiped the tears off, and looked down at his meat. Then he saw the fire, and asked, “Can I try my meat like you make yours?”

I laughed. “Sure!” I said.

He picked up his steak and handed it to me. I placed it on the thin rock, and set it on the fire. After a few moments, it was cooked brown on the outside. I left it rare, unsure if he would like it completely cooked through.

He looked at it for a second, unsure if he really wanted to try it. Then, slowly, he lowered his head and bit into the steak. His eyes popped open wide, he smiled, and ate the entire thing in only a few savage bites.

He looked up at me and exclaimed, “I see why you eat it like that! That was good!”

I smiled, and turned to make my steak which was still sitting on the rock I set it on earlier. I cooked it quickly, and then turned to talk to Simba.

“So are you and Nala best friends?” I asked him.

“She’s my best girlfriend. You’re my best friend Ayden.” He said, correcting me.

“I know that pal,” I said, rolling my eyes and smiling. “I mean are you and Nala best friends?”

Simba didn’t seem to understand. He turned his head to the side a little bit, looking at me peculiarly. “I don’t get what you mean.”

I chuckled to myself. “You will when you’re older.”

            After about an hour talking, Simba went up to the cave and lay down with his parents. I stretched and yawned. It had been a long day, and sleep was defiantly a welcoming thought.

            I doused the fire, and walked up to the mouth of the cave. Before I could enter, Scar appeared at the mouth of the cave. He looked up at me, startled to see me there. Then he smiled and squinted his eyes.

            “Good evening, my young prince.”

            His voice was smooth, and there was no infliction in it that showed that he meant harm, but I was still uneasy being near him. He may have been Mufasa’s brother, but his face held none of the kindness or compassion that Mufasa did. It was a tragic face that looked as if it had been through much sorrow and pain.

            “Good evening, Scar.” I said uneasily.

just finished my meal.” I felt the courage rise in my chest. If I remained afraid of him, I would never properly call this place home. I needed to get to know all of the aspects of home, not just the ones I was comfortable with. “What about you Scar? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

            He smiled, and circled me. “I have some business I need to take care of before I rest tonight.”

            “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me, are you?” I said, my eyes never leaving his.

            “Oh, I’m not that easy to crack.” He replied, that menacing smile still on his face. This conversation was heading nowhere, so he changed the subject. “So, you killed that wildebeest today, did you?”

“Yes.” I said, relieved to see him discuss something familiar. I was still anxious around him though.

“You are a very well accomplished hunter. Your uses may be more than I expected.” He said mysteriously. “You had best get inside and sleep, young prince. You’ve had a busy day. And they’re only going to get busier.”

I knew this was true, and I yawned. Still staring at him, I went into the cave.

“Goodnight, Scar.” I said cautiously, as he turned and walked down the slope of Pride Rock.

I waited until he was far enough where he wouldn’t hear me, and then I left the cave again and walked up to the tip of Pride Rock. I noticed his dark figure was slinking down to the southeast.

Fighting the urge to follow him and see what he was up to, I wandered back into the cave, yawning as I did. I wandered over to my backpack and unstrapped the sleeping bag. I shook it open, and began to lay it down in my spot. From the center of the room, Mufasa looked up and cleared his throat.

I looked up at him, wondering what was up. With a motion of his head, he told me to set up in the space next to him. Smiling, I silently tiptoed through the crowd of sleeping lionesses through the room. Then I finally reached the center, and lay my sleeping bag next to Mufasa. He smiled down at me, then lay his head on his paws and fell into a deep sleep. Simba lay curled in a ball, close to his mother, a relaxed smile on his muzzle.

Smiling to myself, I slipped into my sleeping bag and lay my head down. After such a long and busy day, I easily drifted to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7 – Tragedies of the Pride Lands

 

 

For the next couple weeks, Mufasa began taking both Simba and I around the Pride Lands to teach us the proper way to rule a kingdom. I knew that it was more than ordering people around, but I was still slightly overwhelmed by all the information. One entire day was dedicated to Mufasa filling us in on the history of the kings that preceded him. King Mohatu was the father of King Uru, who was father of King Ahadi, who fathered Mufasa and Scar. Mufasa, being the older of the two, became the next king when Ahadi ascended to the stars. That was the short version of it. The entire day was filled with intricate stories of these king’s times of rule. I found it all interesting, but after a while I began to find my mind wandering.

When he was not teaching us proper leadership qualities, Mufasa was always in a playful mood. He and Simba would roughhouse, while restraining themselves so as not to injure one another. After a few days of uncertainty, I joined in, positive that I would remain unscathed. Roughhousing with Mufasa and Simba brought back so many memories of the same occurring between my father, brother, and me. And it was moments like those that brought us closer together as a family.

Every evening, just before sunset, I would accompany one of the three hunting parties. Each hunt I participated in was always successful whether or not I played a hand in the kill. I paid close attention to each lioness’s hunting style, taking note of who was the best at what. Sarabi had her strength, which was helpful in taking down prey, but it also weighted her down slightly. Zira seemed to have trouble staying sneaky, but, to my surprise, her speed proved to be completely unmatched. Yetunde and Ayana were both the stealthiest of the entire pride. More than once, I witnessed them pouncing on the prey from places I had neither seen nor heard them creep to.

I slowly noticed my hunting prowess was getting better and better. My legs became more and more used to the constant running that the hunt called for. Soon, I had no trouble keeping up with the party as they approached their prey. I no longer nee

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7 – Tragedies of the Pride Lands

 

 

For the next couple weeks, Mufasa began taking both Simba and I around the Pride Lands to teach us the proper way to rule a kingdom. I knew that it was more than ordering people around, but I was still slightly overwhelmed by all the information. One entire day was dedicated to Mufasa filling us in on the history of the kings that preceded him. King Mohatu was the father of King Uru, who was father of King Ahadi, who fathered Mufasa and Scar. Mufasa, being the older of the two, became the next king when Ahadi ascended to the stars. That was the short version of it. The entire day was filled with intricate stories of these king’s times of rule. I found it all interesting, but after a while I began to find my mind wandering.

When he was not teaching us proper leadership qualities, Mufasa was always in a playful mood. He and Simba would roughhouse, while restraining themselves so as not to injure one another. After a few days of uncertainty, I joined in, positive that I would remain unscathed. Roughhousing with Mufasa and Simba brought back so many memories of the same occurring between my father,

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