CHAPTER 55: SETTING LIMITS

Simba’s brush with humankind left him scared but still hungry. Somewhat pensive, he sat on the bank of a small pond, watching the fish swim in the crystal clear water. Some of them were rather large, and he felt that it would be a shame to waste all that meat on the bottom of a cold pond when it could be inside a nice warm lion.

He considered his approach. As slow as the fish swam, they would perk up substantially the instant his paw entered the water. As he saw it, there were so many fish that if he jumped in the middle of the school and grabbed, he ought to catch at least one.

After a while, the fish seemed to forget that Simba was there and began to behave normally. One of the came alluringly close to the surface, then snapped up a hapless fly that had fallen in the pond.

“I guess it’s now or never,” Simba said. He tensed up, poised like a statue, then sprang.

SPLASH!!

Timon and Pumbaa watched in awe as Simba grabbed, missed, and grabbed again. Flailing about in the water, he chased fish around until he was covered in mud. The slippery algae on the rocks proved a bit much, even for his large paws. He slipped and fell over on his back.

“Thunderation!”

Some monkeys began to laugh in a nearby tree. “Fresh fish! Fresh fish!”

Simba tried to ignore them. He concentrated on the task at hand, but with mud stirred up in the water it was almost impossible. Still he thrashed about, finally managing to chase a fish into some very shallow water. A quick smack of his paw pinned it to the bottom.

“Gotcha!”

He looked up proudly. “Hey guys, look what I got!”

The fish thrashed around, and as slippery as it was, it worked out from under Simba’s paw. The lion made another quick jab, but only managed to get water in his eyes. He rubbed his face with disgust.

“Hey guys!” one of the monkeys said. “Look what I got!” Gales of laughter erupted in the tree.

“Shut up!” Timon shouted from the nearby riverbank. “We’ll have gibbon instead of fish!”

At that remark, one of the monkeys pulled a ripe fruit and tossed it with almost flawless accuracy. At least it hit Pumbaa....

Others began to pull fruit, and Timon sounded a quick retreat. It was just in the nick of time, too. Fruit began landing all around them as they scrambled to put distance between themselves and the troop.

As Simba ran, he began to dwell on what he had lost. That fish meat would have tasted good. A curse on those monkeys! Maybe with a little more time things might have been different.

As Simba checked behind him to see if the monkeys were pursuing, he failed to notice the thinning trees around him. He absently noticed the light level increasing, but it failed to register until his front paws sank into soft grass instead of the spongy mat of leaves on the jungle floor.

He turned his head to look and sucked in a deep breath of awe. “Oh!”

Arrayed before him was an immense expanse of grassland, stretching out as far as he could see, the gentle fingers of the wind stirring the ground restlessly into a panorama of motion. He paused for a moment, the stepped out tentatively into the open.

Timon glanced at him apprehensively. “Hey? What’re ya doin’?!”

“This is beautiful!”

Timon and Pumbaa felt naked and exposed without the canopy of trees. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Simba had only good feelings. The cloying scent of rotting vegetation, ever present in the jungle, was gone, whisked away by a clean wind that brought the earthy smell of grass and ground, an ambrosia of scents that made his nostrils twitch with excitement. The last time he had breathed such scents, he had been but a child, the tall stalks of grass towering over his pudgy body as he waddled through the flora. Now he stood upright, the tops of the plants brushing his shoulders as he surveyed the plain, and nothing wad hidden from him. The faint flash of a thunderstorm on the horizon winked at him from far to the southwest, and a small herd of zebra paced leisurely a few miles off, bobbing their heads and gossiping in their singsong voices. He raised his head to look at the sky and grinned, settling down and rolling onto his back as he watched the clouds scud slowly by. “Oh yeah!” He sighed. “Come on, fellows! It’s OK. It’s great out here!”

“No thanks. We’ll stay here and watch.”

“Jeez! What is it with you two?” Irritated, Simba started to rise. Pushing himself up on his forepaws, he shifted, preparing to get up, when his ears flicked towards a sound from the grass behind him. He turned, seeing the stalks rustling and waving, but not from the wind. What breeze there was shifted slightly, and his nose twitched as he caught the long forgotten but unmistakable scent of a lioness. “Who’s there??” he said, frightened.

“Hey, it’s OK. I’m not going to rush you.” Timon and Pumbaa quivered in the underbrush as a golden face appeared. “My name is Sasha.”

Simba stared, entranced by the lovely visage. “Pretty name.”

“Thanks.”

He smiled. “Hey, it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to another of my own kind.”

“Are you a rogue lion?”

“Worse,” he said broodingly. “There’s something natural about a rogue lion. I’m--well--oh forget it.”

“You’re lonely? I can understand that.” She stepped from the grass, the entire length of a fully grown lioness revealing itself as she came to sit beside him. “How long has it been? A moon? Two?”

“Since I was three moons old.”

“My gods!” She looked at him with wonder. “How did you survive?”

Simba gestured over at Timon and Pumbaa. “I had help.”

“Them??” Sasha smiled. She looked back at Simba. “You mean you’ve been without lion friends since you were three moons old?”

“I’ve been without lion enemies too. You’re the first I’ve seen since my father....” He looked down.

She came to him and nuzzled him. “You poor dear!”

An embarrassed smile lit his face. “I forgot how good lionesses smell. But you look so small. I used to look up at my mom.”

She laughed. It was a merry sound that reminded him of Isha’s wonderful chuckle, a sound that was as warm as a good hug.

“Hey Simba!” Pumbaa shouted. “Come back!”

“It’s all right.”

“No it’s not!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Pumbaa.”

“If you don’t believe me, ask HIM!”

“What?” Simba patiently began to explain that it was a female who sat beside him when another scent reached out and slapped his senses. This one was utterly familiar, despite the intervening wall of years. He had smelled it when his father had rescued him and Nala from the hyenas clutches; the scent of a male lion full of rage and ready for battle. Simba turned his head slowly to see the immense form part the grass.

"Who are you talking to, Sasha?" The amber eyes narrowed and regarded Simba coldly, mouth tightening into a flat line that gleamed at the edges where his incisors protruded. “Listen you snotty-nosed brat. Run along before I have to sharpen my claws on you."

“Wait, Jomo,” Sasha said rapidly. “It’s all right--”

Timon shouted, "What makes you think you can talk to us like that?? Why, Simba here will use you for a beanbag!"

The shine left the lion’s eyes, leaving them flat and deadly. “So it’s Simba, is it?? Well, Simba, why don’t you prove it!” His tail stiffened slightly as his shoulders hunched, and he began to stalk slowly towards the terrified youngster.

Sasha stood aside fearfully as Simba gathered his legs under him in a crouch, creeping backwards towards the treeline. “Hey, no need to get huffy, sir.” He looked back at the meerkat. “Cool it, Timon! Hakuna Matata, remember?"

The adult lion grinned humorlessly. “You have a lot of worries if you ask me. Or maybe just one big one. Me.”

“We were just leaving.”

“I’d bet my next kill on it.” As he spoke, the lion flattened his ears and swept towards Simba in a deadly rush, fangs bared fully, the light gleaming off them in a promise of death. Simba gave a roar of surprise and jerked away, scrabbling for purchase as he tried to turn and flee. The monarch’s paw whipped around and struck the young lion, his claws scoring crimson furrows in Simba’s haunch. Simba cried out in pain and fear, the lion’s roars thundering in his ears as he sprinted away towards the safety of the jungle. He glanced back and saw the lion still pursuing, the sight goading him to run even faster.