[1st POV]
(3 months later)
Time passed quickly in the life of a lion cub. I was starting to forget what it was like to be human and had completely adapted to my new life as a lion. It has been six months, half a year since I took my first breath in this new life.
My life consisted of three things: feeding, playing and then sleeping. I spent my days cycling between these three activities. It might sound boring to privileged humans, but I knew it was the best time in an animal's life.
I spent most of my time sleeping, which is the main reason why time passed so quickly. As a cub, I was still growing, and sleeping was when I grew, apparently. I would eat as much as I could, mixing my mother's milk with any available meat.
Playing time was also an important factor in my life as it was how we cubs learned and trained for everything we'll face as adults. I used it to get accustomed to my lion body and to train my growing muscles.
I was known as the roughest and most active cub in the pride. Since I had a clear goal in my mind, I did not play merely for as long as it was fun. Just like how I went extra in feeding, the same goes for playing.
A hierarchy soon developed among the seven of us cubs from our play fighting and feeding time. Of course, I was the most dominant and also the largest cub. Nala was second, followed by Simba.
Most of the cubs were six months old now, meaning that we were at the end of our weaning phase. I tried to insist on feeding on my mother's milk, but she would roughly shove me away and tell me no these days.
It was tragic, I lost a great source of protein and nutrients, which means I would have to fight for even more meat to make up for it.
...
"Leo, Leo, Leo, LEO!!!"
I spared a glance at Simba, who was jumping up and down on the ground while I rested on top of a tree branch near the Pride rocks.
"You're awake! I knew you were awake," Simba said, completely ignoring the logical conclusion that he just woke me up.
I closed my eyes again, easily ignoring his voice while trying to get back to sleep. I've slept through Sarabi and Mufasa's constant grunting as they mate, so I could sleep through his tiny calls.
"Don't ignore me. You can't ignore me, I'm your brother!" he said, and then he tried a few other things to get my attention but none of them worked.
He went silent after a while and then I heard the sound of tiny claws scratching wood. That finally piqued my interest enough to give him another look.
I saw Simba trying to climb the tree with all his effort, but he remained stagnant a few inches off the ground. He was not strong enough to pull himself up, nor was he coordinated enough to climb a tree.
I watched him fall back on the ground with amusement.
"Argh!! How can you climb such a tall tree? It's so annoying," he said while getting back up. He rubbed his claws on the tree to relieve the strain from trying to climb.
"What do you want Simba?"
"I want another match Leo. I want to fight you again for the title of the strongest cub in the pride," he said with determination in his voice.
This again? I sighed. "Have Nala heard about this? Did you even beat her yet?"
"Nala is a female, she can't be a king. Aren't you ashamed of bringing her up when it's between you and me?" he said shamelessly.
He was talking like Nala was not the second strongest and I was using her as a shield to avoid a fight.
"I will fight you on one condition, you will give me the next meat father dearest gives to you," I said.
Although Simba and I were brothers, there was clear favouritism between us. Mufasa went as far as stashing away meat and giving it to Simba when he learned that he was not the most dominant during feeding time.
"Deal," he said without a thought.
And so in the name of food, I got up and leapt off the tree after stretching my limbs. I landed on the ground with a soft thud, displaying impeccable coordination and balance. Any other cub would've died from falling from such a height.
When I stood beside Simba, the difference in our size became clear. I was not too tall nor too wide compared to him, but I was much, much thicker. My frame, which was limited by my genes, was filled to the brim with fats and developing muscles.
At only half a year, I had muscles big enough to create definition like most adults have. My skin was tight around my body.
When I landed, Simba flinched back. That was almost the same as admitting defeat before the match even started.
Simba had a heart, he wanted to be brave and strong but he was not quite there yet.
He bared his growing teeth at me and then proceeded to pounce. He stood on his hind legs and swung his paws at me like he had seen the adults do when they fight.
I did the same but with half the effort. I was strong and heavier, so I was able to suppress him each time he stood up.
In the end, I put my weight on top of him and pressed him to the ground.
"Okay, okay, okay! I give up!" Simba said with a muffled voice, "You win!"
Earning food had never been easier.
I pulled back from Simba and finally bared my teeth at him. But mine was a grin. "I don't understand why you are so persistent Simba. Aren't you tired of losing?"
"My father said it doesn't matter how much I lose, it only matters that I win in the end," Simba said while getting up. He shook his body to remove dust and dried grass from his fur.
"But you'll never win. You're failure will have no end and it will matter," I said.
"Oh, but I will. Just wait, I will grow into a super powerful lion like my dad and you will grow up to be like Uncle Scar since you like to be with him so much," Simba said with a challenging tone.
"You don't grow into strength Simba, it is earned," I said, "I think you missed that."
I turned around and slowly walked away. A yawn escaped my maw, the little scuffle had managed to snuff out my drowsiness. Now I had to find something to do.
"Well I'll be the King in the future and you will have to listen to me anyway," I heard Simba mutter to himself.
Welp, he was young and still naive. He would learn in time. Life was going to teach him the hard way. But I still felt the need to reply.
"You'll be the King only until I challenge you for it," I said as I walked away, "Be ready Simba,"
The challenge hung in the air, leaving him in a silent tension. On the other hand, I made my way towards the den. I walked up the rugged mountain filled with rocks that were still too big for my size, I had to jump from one rock to another to walk up to the den.
When I went inside, I was greeted with the unexpected sight of a Scar biting at the leftovers of our last meal. It was mostly just fresh bones with barely any meat left on them, I made sure of that.
I looked around the den and saw that no one else was there. I focused on my ears after that, searching for the nearest adult because I sure as hell was not comfortable being alone with Scar.
Luckily, I heard the sounds of the other cubs and two lionesses just outside the den. The rest of the pride seemed to be out hunting. From the way so many went out to hunt, it seemed we might be eating a buffalo tonight. That was something I looked forward to.
I focused back on Scar, his eyes were studying me with a dangerous glint while an amused smile hung just below them. He seemed to know exactly what I just did and was rather impressed by it.
"Cautious little thing, you don't think your own uncle would ever harm you, do you?" he asked and then with a snap, he crushed the femur bone of the dead prey.
I deadpanned at him. I didn't just think, I know for a fact that he would kill me just out of spite if he ever got the chance.
The lion Scar was a bit different from how he was portrayed in the animated movie. His frame was tall and wide, he was almost as big as Mufasa in this regard. But he was gaunt, his muscles were shadows of what they used to be, stretched thin by hunger.
His dark mane hung in tangled strands, unkempt and wild, framing a scarred face with sharp angles. You could tell at a glance that it had been a while since he had a full meal. His ribs were showing through his thin hide.
Unlike what most people would think, Scar was not a part of the pride. He was a lone male lion that lived near us. Mufasa had allowed him to live in his territory out of mercy and because Scar had been very submissive so far.
Scar's living conditions could only be described as pitiful. He had no access to the females, so he could never pass down his genes. He could not hunt for himself since Mufasa rarely allowed him to. The Lion King had this whole cycle of life philosophy, and he preached that we should only hunt what we need and nothing more.
But I believe that was just a guise to make sure Scar never became a strong challenger again. How could Scar hope to challenge him again when he was this weak from lack of food? The only food he got was leftovers most of the time.
I was not justifying his action, but I could totally see why Scar would hate Mufasa and even kill him in the end. He was kind of an asshole.
But nature was such that might make it right, Mufasa was stronger so he was the good guy.
"Can I try?" I asked when I saw him lapping at the red, yellow bone marrow inside the femur.
"Trying to take from a beggar scavenging scraps? I guess we are lucky your brother is the crown prince and not you," he said, "You would make for a selfish King."
But in the end, he gestured with his head at me, "Come along and have a taste if you want,"
I quickly went up to him and without any hesitation, I tried the bone marrow right beneath his maw. He seemed pleasantly surprised at how I was so unafraid of him, not knowing whether to appreciate it or take it as an insult.
Most cubs would not even go an inch near him, his reputation was shit and every mother feared that he would kill one of the cubs out of spite so they told us to stay away from him.
"No wonder you are able to live on scraps, that is really fat and juicy," I said while licking my own mouth to clean it. The bone marrow was oily as fuck with a hint of blood in them.
I was sure it was rich in calories. It was a food that could sustain life but not strengthen it when eaten alone.
I only ate slightly too much than I was supposed to. There was still plenty for Scar to enjoy.
"I wish I had a stronger jaw to be able to crack open bones like you," I said, to which he just chuckled darkly. Perhaps he realized that the moment I was able, he wouldn't even get scraps anymore.
"You will get there soon, especially at the speed you are growing. Soon enough, you would outgrow even me," he said.
"Tell you what Uncle Scar. How about instead of waiting for the other lions to leave the den, I bring the remaining bones of every meal to you," I suggested, "And then you can crack open the bones and we can share the bone marrow."
He went silent for a moment before he grinned, "Isn't that a splendid idea. Perhaps you would make for a wise King, although selfish,"
"So that's a yes?" I asked.
"I wouldn't reject if you come once in a while," he said, choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to expect anything good from anyone anymore, he was done with that long ago.
Scar remained in the den for a few more hours. He only left when he heard the roars of the other lions that declared their return and a successful hunt.
And much to my joy, they brought home a dead buffalo. The feast was official.
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[IMAGE]
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