[3rd POV]
(The Congo - 3 years ago)
"What's wrong, kid?" Timon asked with a worried tone at the lion cub they had adopted.
Simba was lying in the forest, his ribs pressing against his skin with every breath he took. He had grown weak and thin. He had recovered quite a bit since they found him in that desert a week ago, but he was not getting better.
"I don't know. I'm just extrely tired," Simba answered with a tired voice. "Could you maybe let sleep in a bit today?"
"Sure, kid, take however long you need," Timon said, softly patting the lion cub which he had co to be fond of over the week.
Timon walked away to give space to Simba under the shade of a tree. He walked towards Pumba, who was looking at Simba from a distance. His eyes had the sa worry, if not more.
"What are we going to do, Timon? We can't let the kid die like this. We promised to take care of him," Pumba said as Timon ca up to him with droopy shoulders.
"I don't know. What do you want to do? I am not his mother," he said with a sigh.
Silence prevailed as the two watched Simba from a distance. His breathing was getting weaker and slower. It felt like they were watching him die in real ti, and it was heartbreaking for the two friends.
A week. They'd had the lion cub with them for a week, but they had quickly co to care for him. They thought they could change him in their image, but that seed to be impossible.
"You know what we have to do," Pumba said suddenly, his voice surprisingly firm contrary to his goofy character. "A lion cannot live off worms and insects."
"No, I don't know what we have to do. Tell , Pumba. Do you have any bright ideas?" he asked.
"We need to give him at."
"Are you insane?!" Timon said imdiately. "Do you even realize what you're saying? at? AT?! Do you realize at cos from living beings? Heck, you are at! I'm sure you'd make for a delicious fatty steak, so why don't you offer yourself to him then?"
"No, I an other at, not us obviously. What if we give Simba the at of soone no one loves? Soone who is hated by everyone?" Pumba said.
"Okay, now you're just making it sad," he said. "So who do you suggest we feed Simba?"
Pumba was silent for a while and stared intently at Timon.
"Bushmaster," Pumba said.
Timon's eyes widened, then he released an "Ooooooo."
"I see the vision," Timon said.
"We'll teach Simba to only eat the bad animals, not the good guys. That way we get rid of all the bullies, and Simba gets his at!" Pumba said.
"No, wait! I have a better idea!" Timon said before he hopped in front of Pumba and grabbed his face.
"What if we let Simba eat only the bad guys while teaching him not to hurt the good guys! That way we get rid of the bullies of the forest, and Simba will have his at and be healthy!"
"Uhhh, that's what I just said—"
"It's genius, Pumba. I am a genius!" Timon said, ignoring him completely. "I don't know how I even co up with such great ideas. I may be small, but I guess I have quite the large brain."
"Hey, Simba! Simba!!" Timon called to the cub lying down in the distance.
With an annoyed growl and droopy ears, Simba propped himself up.
"Let's go! We are going to hunt at for you!" Timon said with an excited wave, and this ti, Simba's ears perked up and it was like life was returning to him.
He knew his new friends didn't allow him to hunt any living beings, that was why he had held back all this ti. But he was extrely happy and excited to see the change in their minds.
"Okay, I'm coming!" Simba said and ran towards them.
The lion's body had made itself weak to conserve energy, but when the brain knew he was going to hunt, the body suddenly allowed Simba to access all his energy reserves.
The trio then headed towards the stream imdiately. They traversed through the thick jungle. Simba was having trouble doing so, but Pumba was patient and taught the prey how to move in the forest.
After an hour or so, they reached the stream. And there, they found the prey they were looking for.
Bushmaster. He was a Bay Duiker. They were not large prey, averaging around 20–26 kilograms. He was the perfect prey for the 8-month-old Simba, who weighed almost twice that.
The Bushmaster was hated by all the animals in the vicinity.
"Why though?" Simba asked. The three of them were hiding behind a bush while the Bushmaster was playing around in the small stream.
"He looks kinda adorable," Simba said.
Timon gave an answer. "Bushmaster and his kind are extrely territorial, and for so reason, he's claid ownership of the whole stream. The nearest watering hole after this is far, so other animals have to travel long distances just to get water."
"Huh? But he's so small. Can't Pumba chase him away?" Simba asked.
"Yes, but he always cos back. He bullies the smaller animals, and when a bigger one cos, he does this really nasty thing to make sure no one drinks from his stream," Timon said.
"He pisses and shits in the stream," Pumba said with hate.
"Oh... ew..." Simba said.
"You don't know half of it, kid. The Bushmaster has greater firepower than even Pumba," Timon said.
Simba made a face. He knew firsthand how horrible Pumba's fart slled, so he couldn't even comprehend how horrible his must be.
"Stay here. We'll lure the Bushmaster to you, and you'll do your... umm... lion thing, I guess," Timon said.
"Okay. Don't worry. I know how to hunt. Leo taught ," Simba said. (Leo had actually taught Simba how to hunt rabbits if you refer to Chapter 11.)
After that, Pumba and Timon went out from their hiding spot.
"Hey, big ass!!" Timon called while standing on top of Pumba.
Bushmaster looked towards them and frowned. "You again, Timon? I told you, I don't allow others to drink from my stream."
The mont he said that, he crouched down and dipped his rear into the flowing stream, threatening to piss, or worse, shit in the water imdiately.
"No no no no! Don't do that! We co in peace!" Timon said, raising his hands. "I thought about our encounter last ti and realized we were wrong."
"You're the owner of the stream; you should decide who drinks and who doesn't," he said.
Bushmaster narrowed his eyes. "What's your ga, Timon?"
"Absolutely nothing! I just want to make peace. And I even brought fruits for you. Not fallen ones, but fresh ones plucked right from the tree," Timon said.
Bushmaster was incredibly suspicious. "I don't sll anything."
"Obviously your nose has been wrecked by all the godly shits you've taken," Timon scoffed. "I can't bring them to you because there are too many. And if Pumba carried them, he would've eaten them already because the fruits are that ripe and delicious."
"I put them behind that bush," Timon said, pointing at the bush where Simba hid.
Although incredulous, the Bushmaster couldn't resist heading towards where Timon pointed. It never crossed his mind that they could be working together with a predator to take him down.
And when Bushmaster ca close to the bush, Simba leapt out.
There were screams, and howls of pain, but the rest was history.
...
...
"Do you think we did the right thing?" Pumba asked, eyes wide as he looked at the gory scene of Simba eating the Bushmaster.
Simba was starving and tearing away at the flesh like a savage. Blood didn't even flow as Simba quickly licked it clean. That was how hungry he was.
"Who knows... I'm gonna puke," Timon said.
"Yeah, too."
The two turned around and vomited in the other direction.
But no matter. They had begun sothing they couldn't stop. They were raising an apex predator.
But you would hear about them as heroes in the jungle though, the trio who put away bad animals in the Congo.
..
//////////////////
(Congo - Present Day)
"Simba!! Simba!! Wake up!!" Pumba and Timon nudged at the giant apex predator they had raised since he was a cub.
"Hmmm?" Simba slowly woke up from his sleep. It was early in the morning — so early, in fact, that it was still dark.
"There's trouble in the south forest!! The Red River Hogs are on the move again. They're destroying the nests and have eaten all the eggs," Pumba said.
"Huh? How do you know this? It's the middle of the night," Simba asked groggily.
"Miss Tula ca," Timon said, moving aside to show the Guinea Fowl that was right behind them. She was ragged, out of breath, and seed to be mourning.
"Please, they've destroyed all my eggs," she said with a pleading voice.
Simba could only get up with a yawn. He had fought a rock python that ate their friend only a few days ago, but trouble was already here. No land lacked villains in nature, after all.
"Okay, lead the way, Miss Tula," he said.
And so, the story of Simba, the king and protector of the Congo, continued.
...
...
...
[IMAGE]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author: Maybe this is too silly, but it's kinda how I imagine Simba would live in this version of the world. Also the only plausible way Timon and Pumba would be okay with killing other animals.
Hope this answers the questions you might have.
Reviews
All reviews (0)