Submission 1:
[quote]
"And of course the springboks left right after the elands..."
It had been three days since Simba had ousted Scar and taken his place as King of the Pridelands, and Zazu had decided chief among his duties to the new regent was to fill him in on everything that had happened while he'd been gone.
Everything.
Simba gazed out into the misty gray dawn, his mind less than half on the loyal little bird's continuing recitation.
Finally the rain was letting up. It hadn't stopped since the storm broke that fateful night, and though the land needed it, the lions needed a chance to dry out and take stock. The first morning the sulfuric smell of doused ash from a deluge of water on hot cinders was all that anyone could register. The fire had burned so hot that curtains of thick, palpable steam kept the region cloaked in a haze that, as Timon put it, "smells like Pumbaa ate grub chili". They had sheltered from the eggy stink in the main cave, nursing battle wounds and catching up, reclaiming the space as their own. And sometime in the course of that first dreary afternoon, Zazu had commenced his tale. With a vengence for having been cooped up so long.
The golden lion twitched bone-damp whiskers into the morning from the landing in front of the den, registering just a shadow of soreness now, (beneath the extra 12 pounds of hornbill,) and hoping greatly for some broad sun later that day to bake out the last of it.
"...told him that wasn't a judicious choice, but..."
There had been NO hiding from the acrid, painfully sharp reek of fire damage once the steam had burnt off later that first day, though, and for the next two it clung to everything, leaching even into the farthest crevices of Pride Rock. It clung even to their fur, they came to realize, and the biting odor hanging in their noses. And still the rain had not abated.
Now that it had, what on earth were they going to do?
Simba stared at the monotone, soggy raized landscape the morning light revealed and ruminated glumly.
What on earth was HE going to do now that he was responsible for all of it?
Nala padded over to him from the sleeping cave, wrestling back a bemused smile as she took in Zazu.
"Early bird," Simba said. "Very early bird," he added, casting her a pleading look.
Nala laughed. "You're the genius," she teased with mock indignance. "Sarabi and I were going to take a group out west for a few days, see if the herds went that way. It'll be good for the lionesses to be active."
"Good morning, Nala. Do you remember which palm stopped polinating first? I believe it was the date...."
Zazu had somehow managed to greet Nala without pausing in his account.
A drying breeze tested the surface of Simba's clammy mane. Suddenly he grinned at the sad panorama, then put it away just as quickly.
"Zazu!"
The family secretary fluttered down to ground level.
"I need you to go find the herds! Be my envoy, tell them the rain's come back to the Pridelands and I have, too."
Zazu's eyes lit up and he fluffed his feathers eagerly.
Nala raised an eyebrow at her mate and Simba quirked a smile.
He'd figure it out.[/quote]
Submission 2:
[quote]As his last roar echoed though the Pridelands, Simba finally felt proud of himself for the first time in a long while in his life. He looked up through the rain at the patch of sky where he heard his father's voice just moments before.
“Remember!”
Simba grinned as he surveyed the lands around him. True, they looked like a barren, charred desert now, and some parts were still on fire, but they were his. And now it was his job to get them back to as they remembered them last, green and full of life.
He didn't think that he would have been here. Just days before, he was still living the Hakuna Matata life with Timon and Pumbaa, not a worry in the world, at least for most of the time. But even as he lived with his two friends, he never felt completed. True, Hakuna Matata offered an escape for Simba when he needed it the most, but that what it was in the end, an escape. As Timon said, Simba went and placed his back to the world, ignoring it as it changed around him.
And now it was time to face the world once again, as he was meant to do from the start. Simba looked down at the pride assembled below him, all of them staring up at him. Days ago he was living for himself with two friends. Now he was in charge of his long forgotten family, and in a time of need.
Things would be difficult, that much was certain. Simba didn't even know what he was supposed to do now. He recalled how when he saw his father in the clouds, Mufasa had claimed that Simba had forgotten him. Back then, Simba protested against the idea, but now he understood.
He did not forget about his father, but he forgot all the lessons he was taught. So while the name Mufasa was still familiar to Simba, he allowed Mufasa's identity to whither away, die out, and be forgotten.
And now Simba will need to remember those lessons. He will need to take what little Mufasa was able to teach him and use it to guide his pride, his family, through the next hardships.
Simba turned and began to walk back down the wet rocky slope of Priderock. He came over and sat down next to Nala, returning a deep nuzzle that she gave him. It was at that instance that he realized that no matter how hard things would get, they will get through.
While Simba himself had forgotten Mufasa's lessons, there were those here who did not. Nala, Rafiki, Zazu... they would all be able to give him advice on how to rule the lands as Mufasa would.
But there was someone else that he would come to rely on the most for the next following days. Someone who ruled alongside Mufasa, and someone that Simba had forgotten alongside his father. He had abandoned her when she needed him the most, right as she needed his comfort after losing her mate. Instead he only made the pain greater by making her think that he had died as well.
Simba looked over at Sarabi, who was smiling at him. He was slightly taken back when he saw tears in her eyes, until he realized that they were tears of joy, not sadness. He opened his mouth and said the first words of his reign:
“I'm back, mom. I'm home.” And thus his time as king began.[/quote]
Submission 3:
[quote]Simba's return brought great felicity to the pride. After all, Scar's oppression was no more, and the hyenas had been driven off indefinitely. For the first time in years, the lionesses could rejoice in the glory of victory.
Unfortunately, victory never comes without sacrifice. Though the drought had ceased, months would pass before the arboreal life could grow back and stabilize the ecosystem. Food was still scarce. The pride needed to move on for their survival.
Despite her injured and aging body, Sarabi continued to lead the hunting party. Her unrivaled experience gave her a distinct advantage no other lioness could hope to match. Her body ached with intense, excruciating pain, but the tenacious lioness persisted.
She spotted a herd of zebras in the distance. Since she had made it out this far, all the way to the boundaries of the Pridelands; nothing would stop her now. Slowly, she stepped forward, closing in to create a trap. Although her legs throbbed with pain, her pace quickened. As the distance closed with her pride following, the zebras began to scatter. She chose one and ran towards it at full speed.
Sarabi always enjoyed the fast-paced action and excitement of hunting when she was younger, but things were different now. The thunderous roar of the stampede echoed through her head, magnifying her pain. Her skull felt as if it could split at any moment, and her lungs burned as she gasped for air, but she saw her prize before her. Using the last of her remaining energy, she desperately leaped forward in an attempt to pounce on the zebra.
She felt a sharp, searing pain in her chest and forelegs, as her vision was reduced to darkness. Her body had other plans.
Sarabi took a deep breath, as her consciousness began to return. She was unaware of her location, although this no longer concerned her. The last time she had been this comfortable was years ago. She slowly opened her eyes, finding herself lying on the savannah with dusk soon approaching. She heard her son's gentle voice from behind. “Good, you’re awake. I was getting worried.”
Sarabi could barely speak as a result of her dry throat. “W-what happened?”
“You don’t remember? That hit must have done more damage than I thought," Simba replied. "You were kicked by a zebra during the hunt, two days ago."
"Where's the rest of the pride?" she asked.
"They moved on. If you can get up, we should really get going."
The lioness tried to erect herself on her paws, but could not gather the strength to overcome her pain. "Go on without me," she cried.
"I'm not going to leave you," Simba insisted. "I can't just turn my back on you... not again..."
"I'm too weak. There's nothing more you can do for me. The pride needs you more than I do."
Simba sat down beside his dying mother, holding her closely in his paws. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Look," Sarabi said, after a long silence. The sun began to fall beyond the horizon as the brightest stars in the night sky became visible.
"What is it?"
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Simba nodded. "I remember when we used to do this all the time. But it's been so long; so many things have changed." Simba felt a tear shimmering in the corner of his eye, but somehow managed to maintain his composure.
"The only thing that has changed is that this is your kingdom now. Just like you always wanted."
"That's not what I want. Not anymore. I'd give it all up. Please, just don't leave me," Simba begged.
"I won't leave you," Sarabi replied. "I'll always be with you."
"I want to believe you, but I can't. The stars aren't the great kings of the past. That's a cruel joke. When we die, our bodies become nothing but grass," he explained.
"The circle of life is always in motion. It continues indefinitely. But the legacy we leave behind lasts forever. Nothing can alter that."
Simba's voice began to crack as a result of his sobbing. "But Mufasa left me."
"He left us with a wound in our hearts. One that will never truly heal," Sarabi continued.
"What do you mean?" Simba asked.
"I've done everything I could for you and the pride. I know you won't forget that. You won't forget me."
"Thanks. Thanks for everything," he replied, lightening slightly, as all his memories of her flashed through his mind.
Sarabi smiled as her eyes closed for the last time. "I'm proud of you, Simba," she murmured, before her breathing stopped.
"Goodnight, Mom."
[/quote]
Good luck to all of the authors! If there are any errors in the story, I will gladly fix them. I noticed that all the submissions are for the same prompt, so this should be a close one.
