Kopa's Story

(Fan-Official)

by Doverstar

The sun launched into the sky. It turned the gray-tan Pride Rock to reddish-gold in the morning sunlight. Inside the main cave, the Pride of the great King, Simba, slept soundly, knowing they were safe. More than twenty lions were stretched out on the cave floor—mostly lionesses, but a few males were dotted here and there. And, of course, that didn’t include male cubs, which were scattered in between paws and outstretched tails in the mad jumble of sleeping wildcats, along with female cubs.

One cub in particular sat up, looking alarmed. The reddish-brown tuft of hair on his otherwise-gold head was messy with sleep. He blinked red-amber eyes, yawning to reveal thorn-sharp teeth.

He looked confused for a moment, and then his eyes brightened. He bolted forward and scampered, not bothering to watch out for paws and tails that could get stepped on, to the entrance of the cave where a large, proud male lion sat.

“Hey, Dad, you’re up!” the cub cried gleefully.

“What’re you doing awake this early?” the King of the Pride rumbled as a chuckle. He grinned—it looked somewhat young, similar to his son’s in a way.

“You said you’d show me the whole kingdom.” Kopa reminded him, one eyebrow raised.

“Exactly.” Simba, for of course that was him, leaned down to look Kopa in the eyes, smiling. “After breakfast.”

Kopa rolled his eyes and kept them looking down and to the right, mouth tight. “I never get to go anywhere.”

Simba’s mouth opened in a grin, eyes shining with memories.

“I thought I heard you two out here.” Nala, Queen of the Pride and Kopa’s spunky mother, strolled out, early-morning sun turning her tan fur to creamy-colored.

“Your son wants a tour of the Pride Lands,” Simba smiled broadly at her.

“You know the rules,” Nala yawned. “Until the sun is fully raised, he’s your son.” She glanced at her swollen belly. “Besides, a lioness of my condition shouldn’t be tackling such a fierce predator,” she teased her son with a nuzzle.

Kopa hopped onto a boulder. “When’s my baby brother gonna come, anyway?” he asked, flopping onto his belly and putting one large forepaw over the other, resting his head on his paws. His eyebrows were sunk low impatiently.

“Or sister,” Simba corrected.

Kopa snorted. “Da-ad, I don’t wanna girl for a littermate!”

“Oh, really?” Nala pushed him gently off the rock with her nose.

“Like it or not,” Simba yawned—a pretty long yawn, too, “I’ve got business to tend to. I’ll show you the kingdom soon.” Simba leaned down to nudge Kopa with his muzzle.

Kopa narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Cross your heart?”

“Crossed.” Simba made an invisible X in the air with his tail-tip. He grinned.

“Well, okay.” Kopa sprang to his paws. “But next time we do it before breakfast. At sunrise—when it first gets light out!”

“Kopa…” Simba began fake-moaning, amused.

“Sunrise!” Kopa demanded.

“Breakfast.”

“Dawn.”

“Deal.” Simba leaned down and touched noses with his son to seal the ‘deal’.

“All right!” If Kopa were human, he would have pumped his fist in boyish delight. The young lion cub bounced around in joy, grinning hysterically.

“Sire,” Zazu, the middle-aged hornbill, landed on the same rock Kopa had been on.

“Morning, Zazu,” Simba dipped his head to the blue bird.

Zazu bowed. “I am once again checking in with the, as you know, morning report.” His British accent grew thick. “As usual, the elephants are constantly complaining of their forgetfulness, and fortunately there have been no sighting of hyen—agh!” Zazu gave a girlish squawk and immediately looked over his shoulder at his tail feather. One was missing.

Nala looked stern. “Kopa…” she drew out the last part of his name threateningly.

Kopa’s ears came up. He had his back to them, in the middle of slinking off. He turned around, mouth closed tightly as if trying to hide a forbidden meal. “Mmm?” he mumbled without opening his mouth.

Simba cleared his throat firmly.  

Kopa shook his head hard. Then he sneezed, coughed, and out of his mouth fluttered a blue feather.

“Aggh!” cried Zazu in disgust.

Kopa spat on the ground to rid the foul taste, choking. “Ugh, awghh! That’s disgusting!”

“Indeed it is!” Zazu snapped, fluttering down and picking up the feather with a wing, gazing at it with remorse.

“You know better,” Nala scolded to Kopa.
 

Kopa turned around with a jump of his paws, a look of protest already on his expression. “I-I tripped! Honest!”

“Run along,” Nala nudged him with her nose. “Try your best to stay out of trouble.”

Kopa twitched an ear. “Aw, man.”

Simba chuckled.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Kopa stumbled down the rocks to the long grass. It had been an hour! His father had to be done with all that work by now.

“Hey, dad, guess what?” Kopa skidded to a halt beside his father, who was pacing at the entrance to the sleeping den on Pride Rock.

“Not now, Kopa,” Simba replied distractedly.

Kopa tried to catch his father’s eye, watching him pace. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for Zazu.” Simba answered. He paced left. “Why hasn’t he returned?”

“Uh…well, don’t worry. But, um, Dad?”

Simba didn’t look at him. “Mm?”

“Do you think we could…take a look at the kingdom now?” Kopa’s ears rose hopefully.

“Not today, Kopa,” Simba said again.

“Wh—” Kopa began indignantly, then flattened his ears, disappointed. “Okay.”

Tail drooping, Kopa turned and sulked away, hopping limply from rock to rock back to the grass.

“Say kid, why so blue?” Timon was suddenly at his side, riding Pumbaa, seated on the warthog’s head.

“Actually,” Pumbaa tilted his head, making Timon grip Pumbaa’s black mane, “I think he’s more of an orange-gold.”

“Pumbaa,” Timon leaned his head down to look Pumbaa in the eyes, taking hold of the wild pig’s ears, “we’ve been through this. I mean he’s down.”

“Oh.” Pumbaa glanced at Kopa. “What’s wrong, little guy?” he asked sympathetically.

Kopa’s eyebrows lowered angrily. “I’m not little. And I’m fine.”

“Sure, sure.” Timon hopped down from Pumbaa’s head and landed in the dust.

“I’m serious.” Kopa stuck his much-larger-than-Timon’s nose in the meerkat’s face.

“We believe ya.” Timon elbowed Pumbaa’s leg.

Pumbaa lifted his hoof. “We do?”

“’Course we do!” Timon dusted his hands together, eyes closed matter-of-factly as he strutted in a circle around Kopa. “He’s the future King. He doesn’t have any problems.”

Kopa arched a brow. “Do real Kings have problems?”

“Oh, sure,” Pumbaa grinned. “Lots of ‘em. Responsibility’s a killer.”

“Really?” Kopa became interested. His ears stood straight up again. “Does my Dad have problems?”

“Uh, more than most,” Timon huffed.

“Being a King isn’t easy,” Pumbaa began.

“But we don’t wanna hear about that!” Timon leaned casually against Pumbaa’s right front leg, gazing up at Kopa.
 

The lion cub cocked his head. “Why not?”

“So he has problems!” Timon snorted. “Big deal! So the kingdom’d be in chaos without ‘im! So what, eh, Pumbaa?”

Pumbaa jolted. “Uh?” Then he caught Timon’s eye. “Oh, sure. Right! Who cares?”

Kopa stared at them. “Chaos? You mean he has to have problems?”

“Well, yeah, but who needs ‘em, right?” Timon coughed.

Kopa poked Timon’s chest with a paw. “What d’you mean? A King’s gotta have problems!”

“Does he?” Timon again nudged Pumbaa.

“Yeah!” Kopa raised his head in a know-it-all way. “It makes him stronger. I’m gonna be like that someday. You’ll see!”

And he trotted happily back towards his father.

Pumbaa glanced at Timon. Timon glanced at Pumbaa.

“I think we got through t’him, whaddaya say?” Timon said as he hopped back onto Pumbaa’s head and took hold of the warthog’s ears again.

Pumbaa nodded cheerfully and the two of them clopped off to find grubs.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“And where’re you going?” Nala asked.

Kopa was scampering past her. He stopped. “Exploring.”

“Where?”

“Dunno—somewhere I haven’t been, I guess.” Kopa shrugged.

“Is that so?” Nala smiled.

“Yeah! Where should I go?”

“Whatever you do,” Nala suddenly grew serious, “do not go to the Outlands border. It’s too dangerous since we banished Zira.”

“Zira?” Kopa looked confused.

Nala blinked. “Didn’t your father tell you about them already?”

Kopa’s eyes brightened. “Oh. Yeah! He said she followed great Uncle Scar. So he—”

“So you do know,” Nala chuckled. “Good. You can explore—just don’t go near the Outlands.”

“Fine,” Kopa muttered reluctantly. “See ya.”

“Come home soon!” Nala called after her son as he trotted away.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Don’t go to the Outlands,” Kopa grumbled, kicking a stone with his left front paw, head down and ears flat as he walked. “Puh! She’d never even notice I was there.”

He stopped. Where am I?

It was dusty and sort of cold here; dry with no grass and a lot of mist. The ground was dirty and cracked. The trees were like skeletons with no leaves and dark roots. There was a rank stench in the air.

Kopa glanced around, feeling timid and scared.

Something snapped behind him. He whipped around, tail drooping, ears flattened. “Wh-Who’s there?” he stammered. “C-C-Come out.”

In seconds a brown-black bundle flew at him, snarling. Claws gripped Kopa’s golden fur. He and the other lion rolled in the dust, Kopa desperately trying to break free.

The other cub pinned him, claws digging into Kopa’s creamy chest fur. “Trespasser!” he hissed in a sort of high-pitched growl.

His fur was brown and matty and he had fleas in the black tufts on his head and down his back. He seemed older than Kopa.

“Hey, get off! Lemme up!” Kopa snapped, now unafraid of the Outlander.

Another cub came out from behind a rotting tree. She had a violet gaze and a bushy clump of head fur stretching out halfway over her eyes. Her fur was tan-brown, but sort of creamy in a dark way. She seemed to be about Kopa’s age, much, much younger than the dark lion that was holding Kopa down.

“Let ‘im up, Nuka,” She rolled her eyes.

Kopa gazed at her.

Nuka, the cub still pinning Kopa to the ground, jerked his head and scoffed indignantly at her. “Ugh! Let him up? Vitani, Do you know what this is?” Nuka turned his gaze back to Kopa and leered down at him. “A Pridelander!”

Vitani’s eyes opened wide. “You’re sure?” she trotted to Kopa’s side.

“He’s well-fed, isn’t he?” Nuka pointed out, sneering.

Vitani leaned down and sniffed at Kopa’s head, disturbing the red-brown tuft between his ears. She drew back, wrinkling her nose. “I hate to say it, but you’re right. Ugh, that smell!”

Kopa finally shoved Nuka off when the darker lion was least expecting it and sprang to his paws. “Hey!” he spat. “I don’t smell half as bad as him!” he jerked his head toward Nuka.

Vitani snorted a very short laugh. “Yeah, Nuka,” she smirked at him.

Nuka raised his head, picking himself up off the dusty ground, and glared at her. “Y’know for a sister, you’re kind of a pain,” Nuka grunted in his cowardly whine. He shoved past her, nudging her roughly, and faced off with Kopa.

“Look, I just wanna get home,” Kopa snapped. “Lemme go.”

“Forget it!” Vitani joined them, avoiding Kopa’s brown gaze. “We’re takin’ you to Zira.”

“Yeah?” Nuka snorted, rolling his orange eyes. “What’ll mother want with a Pridelander?”

“Mother?” Kopa looked at each of them in turn, staring.

“Zira’s our mom.” Vitani explained.

“One of us, anyway.” Nuka muttered.

Vitani simply reached out a paw. Nuka tripped over it and fell head-first into a sticky, half-dry mud puddle.

Kopa grinned.

“What’s yer name?” Vitani asked, circling him.

Kopa followed her with his eyes, turning his head to look at her. He gave a crooked smile. “Kopa.” He stood up on all-fours, not sitting down any longer, and puffed out his chest. “Future King.”

Vitani and Nuka exchanged glances.

“Future King, ‘uh?” Nuka drew out the last syllable, looking excited.

Vitani’s violet eyes flashed with some greedy emotion Kopa couldn’t read. Then it faded and she looked at him again. Then she looked at Nuka. Then at the ground.

She finally looked up again. “You know what?” she glanced at Nuka again.

“Yeah?” Nuka asked.

“We’ll let ‘im go.” Vitani smirked.

Kopa grinned, tail rising. “You will?”

“We will?” Nuka complained.

Vitani nodded. She smiled, eyelids lowered, at Kopa. “We will. But you gotta promise something.”

Kopa nodded vigorously. “Anything!”

“You gotta come back here every day.” Vitani circled him again. “And bring us Pridelander food.”

“Food?” Kopa stammered. “From the Pride Lands? No way—Dad would kill me!”

“You said anything,” Vitani sneered. “Or don’t you want to leave?”

Kopa glanced at each of them in turn and then rolled his tangerine eyes. “Oh, all right, fine. I’ll get the food every day. Happy?”

He turned to go.

Nuka slid in front of him.

“Hey! You said I—” Kopa began indignantly.

“How do we know we can trust you, huh?” Nuka snarled.

“Y-you can,” Kopa swallowed hard. “I-I promise. And a King never breaks his promises.”

“Yeah,” Nuka muttered to himself, “but you’re not King yet.”

“Hey, shut up, Nuka, let ‘im go!” Vitani snarled.

Nuka narrowed his eyes at her. “You can’t tell me what to d—”

“Watch me.” Vitani strutted past him and nudged Kopa with her nose. “Get moving, Your Highness,” she growled. “And don’t forget to come back. We’ll be waiting.”

“You aren’t gonna tell Zira…are you?” Kopa gulped.

“Forget it,” Vitani dismissed the idea with a wave of her tail. “Don’t worry about her—I won’t tell. And neither,” she bared her teeth at her brother, “will Nuka.”

Nuka rolled his eyes and whined under his breath but didn’t protest.

“Okay—see ya!” Kopa turned and bolted from the scene, anxious to get out of the chokingly dry heat of the Outlands and the glares of Nuka and his sister. Actually, Vitani didn’t appear to be glaring at him at all, just Nuka. When Kopa glanced at them over his shoulder as he ran, Vitani instantly looked away as if self-conscious. Kopa fought back a grin at her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Where have you been?” Nala growled.

Kopa winced, trying to get past her to where the other lions were eating a zebra that had been successfully hunted earlier. “Nowhere.”

“You smell…different.” Nala leaned her large head down and sniffed at his brown tuft of head-fur. She sneezed. Drawing back, Nala exclaimed, “There’s dust all over you! You’re filthy, Kopa.” She rolled her eyes in scornful exasperation.

“I was just—”

“You’re getting a bath after you eat,” Nala warned. “I won’t forget.”

“Yeah, right,” Kopa muttered, annoyed. She always forgot, ever since she’d announced she was going to have another cub. Wonderful.

Kopa didn’t eat much, remembering that afternoon to take the food to the Outlanders. He shuddered. How was he going to sneak past his parents?

But it wasn’t hard. Simba and Nala were both consulting Rafiki, the wise old baboon with that weird stick thing he always walked around with. Rafiki made rare appearances to Pride Rock, so Simba and Nala always took great care in having the monkey to themselves for advice.

Kopa crept past his parents and slunk into the tall grasses of the plains at the base of Pride Rock, zebra leg clamped in his jaws. It tasted mouthwateringly good as he held it in his teeth, but Kopa refused to take a bite until delivering it to Nuka and Vitani as promised. A King kept his promises, after all.

The young prince finally made it to the same spot he’d been in hours ago. He waited, sitting down and dropping the zebra leg to the ground.

Suddenly Vitani exploded from the bushes, tumbling Kopa over and smirking in his face.

“Brought the meat?” Vitani sneered. “For us—you shouldn’t have!”

Nuka prowled out from the undergrowth. “Yeah, right.” He frowned. Then his eyes lit up unattractively when he saw the meat and lunged for it. He and Vitani scuffled over the food for a moment, Kopa watching.

When they were done actually scarfing down the meat, Nuka circled Kopa.

“Told anyone you were here yet?” he hissed.

Kopa raised his head proudly. He was a King. He wasn’t afraid of this mangy teen-cub. “Nope.”

“And you’re not gonna, right?” Vitani prowled toward him. She wasn’t growling or frowning, but she wasn’t smiling anymore either. She looked suspicious.

“Me? No way!” Kopa shook his head hard.

“You promise?”

Kopa lifted a forepaw and turned it toward his chest, eyelids lowered and grinning. “Promise.”

Vitani licked her lips to get the last taste of zebra meat. She brightened up, ears flicking forward, eyes lit. “Cool.”

“Hey, you guys wanna play?” Kopa asked. He sprang to a standing position, paws splayed out.

Nuka and Vitani exchanged glances.

“Play?” Nuka scoffed.

Vitani elbowed him.

“Oof!”

“Shut up, Nuka.” Vitani circled Kopa, who turned his head to watch her with a smile. “What do you mean, play?”

“You don’t know how to play? Gimme a break!” Kopa rolled his eyes.

“Sure we do.” Vitani glanced back at Nuka. “Right?”

Nuka brightened. “Oh, yeah, sure. Right.”

Kopa arched a brow. “Great. Let’s play tag.”

They stared at him.

Kopa’s golden fur ruffled. “What? You don’t even know how to play tag?”

“Outlanders aren’t weaklings like you Pridelanders,” Nuka scowled.

Kopa lowered his eyebrows angrily. “Weaklings?”

Vitani shot a venomous glare at her brother. “He means organized.”

“No, I meant wea—”

“Whatever.” Vitani stood in front of Kopa. “Show us how.”

“Okay, it’s like this.” Kopa backed up a few steps on the dusty ground and prowled around Vitani, then he stopped, confused. “You gotta run from me.”

“Why?” Vitani scoffed. “You don’t scare me.”

“No, but it’s how you play. If I tag you—” Kopa reached out with a forepaw and poked her gently in the side, receiving a violet glare for doing so, “—you’re it.”

“What’s ‘it’?” Nuka asked, curling his lip. He scratched at his shoulder with a hind leg. “Stupid termites…”

“‘It’ means you’re the one who’s gotta chase everybody.”

“Then tag me, quick,” Vitani cried, stiffening up in front of him so that he would easily touch her.

“No no,” Kopa squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head low, shaking it rapidly. He opened his eyes and brought his head back up. Then he circled around so that he stood in front of the two Outlanders. “You don’t want to be it. You wanna get chased. Being it means you lose.”

“Oh, I get it,” Vitani said, snorting.

“I don’t.” Nuka muttered.

“You’ll get it as we go,” Kopa told him kindly. He crouched. “Okay, I’ll be it first. Ready? Set? Go!”

They stood there still staring at him.
 

Kopa straightened up and glared at them, frustrated. “That means run!”

They both jumped, startled.

“Now!”

Nuka and Vitani took off among the leaf-less bushes made of twigs, termite mounds, and the few trees stretching up like dry skeletons.

Kopa turned around in a whirl to see that they were both hidden.

Stalking on his belly, crouching as he moved like a snake, Kopa stretched himself across the dry, dusty ground. “Okay, here I come!”

Sniffing the air, he caught the rank scent he was starting to become familiar with.

Then he caught sight of a black-brown tail behind a termite mound.

“You guys’re too easy,” he said to himself softly, trotting over and climbing onto the mound, hooking his forepaws over the top and pulling himself up to poke his head over the side.

Nuka sat hunched there, being quiet except for scratching at his pelt constantly.

Kopa blew air out of his mouth upward in a scoff, making his tuft of brown hair-fur fly up and then settle back down on his head.

He reached down and jabbed Nuka’s shoulder. “Hey, you’re it!”

Nuka whirled around and hit his nose on the termite mound. Grumbling with his eyes squeezed shut; he edged out from behind the termite mound, pawing at his nose.

“Hey, Vitani!” Kopa called. “Come out—Nuka’s it, we’re starting over!”

Nuka followed Kopa to the clearing.

Vitani trotted prettily out from behind a tree. She was frowning. “This’s boring—you didn’t even look for me!”

“Actually,” Kopa said, “I wasn’t s’posed to look for you. You gotta spread out and then I chase you and tag you.”

“So why didn’t y’chase me?” Nuka grumbled.

“Because you didn’t even know I was there. Why should I chase you?”

“If I knew, I woulda ran.” Kopa muttered.

“Yeah, right!” Vitani grunted. “He could catch you any day.”

“Could not!”

“Could too!”

“Not!”

“Could!”

“Not!”

“Could!

“You guys!” Kopa snarled. “Knock it off. Let’s play it right this time, okay? Nuka—you’re it.”

Nuka mimicked Kopa’s words in a high pitched mumble that was incoherent. Then he crouched, grinning.

“Run!” Kopa cackled, whirling around while looking at Nuka over his shoulder, grinning as he nudged Vitani forward.

Vitani let out a tomboy giggle and hurtled toward the lifeless bushes. Kopa followed her.

Nuka set off after them.

Vitani was first into the bushes. Kopa ducked under. Nuka couldn’t squeeze through, thorns on the twiglike bush pricking at him from all sides. He was stuck in the thicket.

Kopa’s head turned forward and his smile fell when he heard a squeal.

“Help!” Vitani cried.
 

She was stuck in some black goo.

Kopa stared, horrified. Then he moved forward to wade into the goo and help her.
 

But Vitani let out a cubbified roar and growled, “No—it’s tar—get back, you’ll get sucked in too!”

Kopa sprang away. “What do we do? Nuka—get in here!”

“And do what? I’m a little tangled!” Nuka whined behind him. “What’s wrong now?”

“Vitani’s stuck in—” Kopa casually leaned down to ask Vitani, who was up to her shoulders now, sinking rapidly, “—what’s it called again?”

“Tar.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Kopa turned back to Nuka. “She’s stuck in tar. What do I do?”

Nuka’s eyes popped open. “Tar?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay, right? She can just wiggle out.”

“Are you nuts? She’s a cub! And a runty one too. She’ll never get out before it sucks her in.” He didn’t sound too worried about that.

Kopa stiffened. “What happens then?” he asked, frantic.

“Uh, what am I, a hornbill? I don’t know! I’ve never died!”

Kopa’s blood ran cold. He pranced on the shore of the tar pit, moving rapidly and resituating himself, panting hard. “O-Okay, Vitani, stay calm. We’ll get you outta there!”

“Hurry!” Vitani choked out. The tar was all around her, up to the base of her neck.

Kopa glanced around. “Okay, just let me…” he tried to step closer.

“No!” Vitani shrieked.

Kopa remembered her earlier warning and stepped away again. “Nuka…” he growled.

“I’m busy here!” Nuka snapped. He was still trying to back out of the thicket—and away from the tar pit and his sinking sister.

“Hang on, Vitani,” Kopa muttered worriedly. He looked around again, and then spied a tree with a long, outstretched, dry branch.

He immediately climbed up the tree and tried creeping out onto the branch.

Nuka was watching with lowered eyelids from his poky position in the thornbush. “Y’know,” he said dryly, “that tree’s dead.”

Kopa ignored the ignorant teenage lion and continued edging out onto the end of the branch.

It snapped. Kopa plummeted.

When he hit the ground—hard—Kopa stood, dazed, and shook himself. The branch lay broken at his paws.

“Hey, Kopa,” Nuka sneered, “that tree is dead.”

“Shut. Up.” Kopa thrust his head in Nuka’s face and growled, then turned back around to check on Vitani.

He choked back a gasp. Only Vitani’s head and tail stuck out of the gooey black mass.

“When you’ve got time, Your Highness,” Vitani grunted, trying to keep her head up.

“I’m coming!” Kopa grabbed the branch in his teeth and held the other end out toward Vitani’s mouth. “G’ab ick!” he said, mouth muffled.

“What?” Vitani snapped, terrified and angry.

Kopa dropped the stick. “Grab it.”

The end stretching toward Vitani dipped into the tar.

“Kopa!” she shrieked.

“Sorry!” Kopa picked up his end of the branch and edged toward the tar pit, claws just touching the black goo, holding the other end of the stick out as far as he could toward her.

Vitani grabbed the stick between her teeth and then tried moving her paws up through the tar. It was like swimming in a mass of honey—the tar was too sticky and clumped to allow her paws to move upward.

“Jus’ g’ab ick wif yer mouf!” Kopa called, stick wedged in his jaws.

Vitani nodded numbly, not risking letting go of the stick by replying.

Kopa needed more strength if he was going to pull her out on his own. Trying hard to keep himself balanced on three paws, Kopa hooked his left forepaw around his end of the stick—still holding it in his mouth—and hopped backward, one jump at a time, pulling fiercely as he dug his claws in.

“Ca’ I geh a likkle help here?” Kopa snarled in Nuka’s direction, still gripping the branch.

Vitani was slowly being pulled toward him, followed by a loud sucking noise. Disgusting.

Nuka was sidetracked, scratching frantically all over, grumbling about termites.

He doesn’t even care about her! What kind of brother is he? Kopa thought with a grunt of fury.

Vitani had reached the shore now, tar sticking in clumps to her dark tan fur. She let go of the stick on dry ground and flopped down, panting, exhausted.

Kopa sat down in front of her, trying to catch his breath. He dropped his end of the stick. The branch fell to the ground. “You okay?” he gasped out.

Vitani coughed. “I guess.” She finally stopped panting and gazed at him with glowing violet eyes. “Thanks.”

Kopa blushed. “Uh…no problem.”

Nuka cleared his throat from his spot in the thornbushes. “Yeah, yeah, very touching. Now would y’get me outta here? Oh, and scratch this spot right here for me, huh?”

Vitani sprang to her paws. “Oh, I’ll give you a scratch! C’mere!”

Kopa grinned. His new friends collided and Vitani rolled her older brother over and over in the dust on the other side of the thicket. Kopa squeezed under and followed them, watching.

When Vitani had nearly ripped half Nuka’s whiskers off his muzzle, the lioness cub hopped off of her whining brother and shook herself, trotting up to Kopa with a strange little smile.

Her eyelids lowered, she nuzzled him awkwardly. “Thanks again, I guess.”

Kopa’s fur bristled in embarrassment. “Yeah. Sure. Anytime, Vitani.”

When he left that evening, Vitani’s sparkling violet eyes still fresh in his mind’s eye, his Outlander friends promised to practice playing tag until he visited the next day—and Vitani promised not to let Nuka tell Zira anything.

“Because I won’t,” she had said firmly, with a smirk.

Kopa trotted over the border between the Outlands and the Pridelands. Heading for Pride Rock as the sun went down, he smiled. Maybe having Dad being so busy won’t be boring after all.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Pride Rock was sizzling hot to his paws as the young cub Prince Kopa crept along its red boulders, down toward the plains where he’d be safe from the prying eyes of his parents. They were always watching him now. But maybe these days he could get away to the Outlands for his daily romp with Nuka and Vitani more easily.

“Hey, Kopa!”

Kopa flinched. Unless, of course…

His baby sister Kiara came crawling toward him, unsteady on her still-chubby paws. “Where y’goin’?” she giggled. She had just staggered out of the den.

Kopa crept back to stand over her, hissing between clenched teeth in a whisper, “Keep it down, okay? I’m just…uh…going for a walk.”

“Again?” Kiara whined. Little cubs her age always whined. “Can’t I come?”

“No way,” Kopa snapped. He nudged her back toward the den with his paw. “Just…go back to sleep.”

“But I want—”

Kopa growled. “Just go—c’mon!”

Kiara, still whining, toddled back into the den with a yawn.

Kopa breathed a sigh of relief. Trotting into the grass and toward the Outlander border, he rolled his eyes and clenched his teeth. “Sisters!”

When he got to the Outlands clearing where he met with Nuka and Vitani, no one was there.

Kopa sat down to wait. Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. He glanced at the sun. It was already high in the sky. It’s past lunchtime. They should be here. He had a sudden, panicky thought. Maybe they’re mad at me! Maybe they don’t wanna play anymore because I stopped bringing them food! Then he scoffed at himself. They would never do that; they were his best friends. Or at least, he added wistfully, Vitani wouldn’t.

Suddenly bushes rustled. Kopa pricked his ears. “Vitani? Nuka?”

* * * * * *
(One Hour Earlier…)

Vitani sharpened her claws on a stick as she yawned. Being up this early was such a pain. Especially on hot, dry days like this one. Puh, who’m I kidding? It’s always dry here!

She entered the den she and her mother and Nuka—and the little baby cub Kovu, the “ChosenOne” as Zira liked to call him, the adopted baby brother—lived in.

What she saw when she entered made her stop in her tracks, suspicious.

Zira sat on a rock in the shadows—it was always dark and cool and creepy in the den of termite mounds—with Nuka sitting, a sheepish grin on his muzzle, in front of his mother.

“So, anyway, Mother…” Nuka was sniveling again.

“Silence!” Zira roared. She turned and sprang majestically off of the rock and prowled toward her daughter. “So, Vitani…”

Vitani swallowed, trying not to be afraid. Her mother was angry. A very dangerous sign. Why? What could make her so furious this early in the day? Had Kovu been playing around the den again? Vitani had grunted the first time her mother had rebuked the adopted brown cubling. Apparently Chosen Ones weren’t allowed to play.

Zira’s tail-tip whisked back and forth irritably as she circled Vitani with a sneer on her muzzle. “Care to tell me where you’ve been?” she rumbled.

“Getting a drink.” Vitani answered truthfully, frowning. “It’s hotter than usu—”

“Oh no no no,” Zira snarled. “I mean these past months. Where have you been sneaking off to?”

Vitani stiffened.

“Not to meet the young Prince of those pathetic Pridelanders?” Zira’s voice rose in another roar.

Vitani backed up a few steps, hind paws clattering on the dusty pebbles of the cave ground. “I-It wasn’t just me,” she said, knowing that lying would do no good now. “Nuka went with.”

“Did he now?” Zira cackled sarcastically. “Because that isn’t what I heard. You went alone. Isn’t that right?”

Vitani felt her heart pulse with the bile of hatred as she glanced at her still-sniveling big brother. Nuka was grinning like a lunatic—an unattractive sight, especially on him. He told. She knows about Kopa. No!

“But he went too, Mother,” Vitani protested, backing up again. Zira was cornering her again. “Every time.”

Zira swung her head around to face her son. “Nuka, is this true?”

Nuka’s eyes widened. He shook his head. “No, Mother, honest,” he said, giving a nervous chuckle, “I only know where she’s been going.”

“Only because you went with me!” Vitani snarled.

Zira shoved Vitani onto her back with her nose. “You think you can sneak about without my knowing? You believe you won’t be caught?”

“N-N-No, Mother, I—”

“After today, my dear Vitani, you won’t be seeing him any longer.” Zira snarled. With a warning swipe at her rebellious daughter’s ear, nearly touching it with a lengthy claw, the moody lioness stalked out of the den and into the skeleton trees.

Vitani turned, eyes sparkling with fury, and glared at Nuka. “You lied! Kopa’s our best friend! How could you do that? We promised—”

“Oh, give it a rest, y’little termite,” Nuka sneered in his whiny growl. “Once Mother takes care of that rotten little runt, there’ll be room for one more chance at the throne.”

“Yeah,” Vitani smirked nastily at him, hitting him where it would hurt with her next words, “But you’re not the Chosen One.”

Nuka curled his lip at baby Kovu, who slept soundly on that twisted mound Zira had made as a bed for him. “She never even gave me a chance!” he whined. “I could be a leader if—”

Vitani cuffed a paw at him and he ducked out of the way. “Just shut up! You ruined everything!”

Then she stopped.

Nuka was still grinning.

Vitani shuddered. “Wait a second. What do you mean, she’ll take care of him? What’ll she do to Kopa?”

Nuka opened his mouth to smugly reply, but Vitani didn’t wait to hear it. She turned and vanished out of the den, heart pounding. I’m comin’, Kopa! Hang on!

* * * * * *

(Present Time…)

Kopa twitched an ear and gazed at the leafless bush. “Er, who’s there? Nuka?”

A dark tan tail swished from the bush’s top.

Kopa’s ears leaped straight up on his head, a wide grin spreading across his long muzzle. “Vitani?”

Suddenly a huge lioness exploded from the bushes, crouching over him. A long, dark brown stripe stretched across her forehead to her nose. She bared her teeth in his face, catlike yellow eyes glinting with an emotion that Kopa couldn’t read, but as he lay on his back, pinned beneath her, trembling, the sight of that glint chilled him to the core.

“Finally,” she breathed, hot breath making Kopa’s brown tuft sway, “The young Prince!”

Kopa stopped trembling and tried to be brave. This was Zira. She had Vitani’s sleek pelt and Nuka’s yellow eyes. He could see the features of his Outlander friends in her expressions. No matter how scared he was, he couldn’t understand how she knew he was even here. How did she find me? They said she’d never know! That she’d never been so close to the border here! His blood ran cold as Zira’s claws unsheathed. A true King isn’t afraid. A true King isn’t afraid. His father’s words of wisdom repeated over and over in his mind. Dad’ll come. I’ll be okay. She can’t do anything to me.

“Now,” Zira was snarling to herself as she bent over him, “Simba will know the pain of loss!”

Kopa felt anger surge through his chest. He was so young, still a cub. He couldn’t fend her off for long. But what she said made him furious. It made him seethe with rage. His father had told him countless times—and so had Sarabi, his grandmother—of the story of the terrible stampede and the betrayal of Kopa’s Great Uncle Scar, killing his brother and Kopa’s grandfather, Mufasa, and forcing Simba from the Pridelands with lies and cruelty.

“That’s where you’re wrong!” Kopa grunted.

Zira’s ears pricked. Her gaze locked murderously with his. Thunder boomed overhead. Raindrops spattered Kopa’s head fur.

Trying to wriggle free in vain, Kopa went on, “He already knows what it—” the young cub unsheathed his claws and let out the hardest kick he could muster at Zira’s exposed belly fur, “—feels like!” With a grunt, he kicked hard with both hind paws and flipped onto his stomach, trying to stand and break away.

Zira roared with fury and pounced on him, pinning him again between her massive paws. “You aren’t going anywhere, son of Simba,” she spat. “My time will come—the time for revenge!” She lunged for him.

The last words Kopa heard before dizzying darkness and jolts of pain were Zira’s hissing snarls:

“And when it does, you won’t be there to see it!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Rain! Just what Vitani needed as she splashed through the mud. The Outlands were even more disgusting soaked. Great!

She reached the leafless, dripping bushes that circled the clearing she’d met Kopa in so many times before.

She scented her mother, Zira, before seeing her.

Zira was prowling away from the clearing, tail lashing in some form of triumph. Vitani’s heart beat faster. She couldn’t hold herself back any longer; she burst through the thicket and into the beloved meeting clearing.

She stopped dead, skidding in the mud.

A heap of golden fur lay in the clearing’s center.

Vitani slowly crept forward. With a paw she slowly turned the body over to see its face, eyes misting over, making her vision blurry. She already knew who it was.

“Kopa!” she wailed, head turned to the sky. Rain pelted her head fur. “This can’t be happening!”

But it was. Looking down, Vitani felt the color drain from her gaze, fur growing cold with grief. Kopa’s face was clearly unscratched, but the rest of his body was scarred. Fang marks denting his neck fur. The rain washed away any hint of blood, and tufts of his fur were missing. He’d been slaughtered.

Suddenly the sound of beating wings flapped overhead. Thunder crashed.

Vitani flinched and, hardly bearing to leave her lifeless friend’s body, fled behind a termite mound, deteriorating into mud.
A blue hornbill—the advisor to the King of the Pridelands, Zazu—gave a gasp as he fluttered over Kopa’s body. His beady pupils flashed with shock as he turned and flew back toward Pride Rock.

Vitani couldn’t risk being here a moment longer. She turned to go…

…And bumped smack into her mother.

Zira sat watching, crouching really, the scene in the clearing as Simba and Nala emerged over the border, bent over Kopa’s body and wailing. Nala flung herself over Kopa and let out a roar of grief. Vitani squeezed her eyes shut. Simba bowed his head, horrified and stricken with shock, staring down at his son with tears in his eyes.

Vitani felt her mother rumble an exclamation of triumph behind her. Vitani felt rage boil under her fur.

“What have you done?” Vitani snarled. “He’s…he’s dead! Mother—”

“Hush now, my child,” Zira smirked evilly, comforting her cub or pretending to but hooking her forepaw over Vitani’s shoulders—it was big enough. “The world is a cruel place. Scar was murdered by the coward Simba. He was your father. If the young Prince had lived, he would have grown to hate you.”

Vitani felt tears come to her eyes. “He would never do that.”

“You may think so now,” Zira growled. “But one day he would have, certainly. It is for the best. If you are going to survive here, Vitani, you must learn to hate. Follow Scar’s rule. Simba doesn’t belong on the throne, nor did his pathetic son. Tomorrow I will send both you and your brother to see the ceremony of their new princess. I have a plan. Scar will not have died in vain.”

She turned to go. Vitani wanted to follow, but she kept her eyes on Kopa’s lifeless form on the muddy ground, Simba and Nala burying their heads in each other’s fur for comfort. Zazu’s head hung low, a single teardrop dripping down his beak. Or maybe it was just the rain. Timon and Pumbaa were beside the hornbill, Timon holding the back of his neck and looking away with closed eyes. Pumbaa wasn’t even trying not to cry, he was practically bawling.

“I won’t forget you, Kopa,” Vitani whispered. “But Mother’s right. The world’s cruel. We’ve gotta avenge Scar. Maybe someday…when we rule Pride Rock…I’ll avenge you, too. Somehow.”

Vitani turned and left the scene.

Kopa’s body was left there, in the rain, that night. Both Nala and Simba couldn’t bear to drag him to Pride Rock. It would be too horrific for the kingdom’s animals. There was a ceremony of Kiara’s to be held the next day.

The forgotten Prince Kopa was dead; the Pride Lands would mourn him forever.

Don’t; look over your shoulder,

Cuz that’s just the ghost of me you’re seein’ in your dreams,

Wait, there’s no rhyme or reason,

Sometimes there’s no meanin’ in the visions when you’re sleepin’,

Don't wake up and believe them,

You're lookin' at the ghost of me...

The End.