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A storm brewed at the edge of the horizon, ready to roll across the savannah. The rising sun, which had seemed set to beat down and bake the clay soil, slowly disappeared, melting into a darkening glob .
A shoebill soared high in the sky over the Pride Lands, fighting against the wind that tried to slow his pace. His flattened bill and wide wings cut through the heavy air.
It won’t be long now, he thought.
He landed on a ridge overlooking the disappearing sun, approximately half a mile from Pride Rock, ready to declare the entrance of the savannah's king for an important announcement. He puffed his chest, opened his bill, and started clapping it, each beat building upon the last until he created an intense resonance.
Only some creatures noticed the sound, which was familiar to them all, but no one joined in. Something was wrong.
The wind's powerful gusts picked up speed, carrying the scent of rain and dust. Its force cracked branches, and the grasses whined as they snapped back and forth.
The creatures scurried across the vast plain, searching for cover as the rumbling clouds barreled closer: Birds lunged into the sturdy branches of umbrella thorn acacia trees. Meerkats dove into their extensive networks of underground tunnels. Elephants huddled together in the open expanse, forming an unbreakable mass.
A young elephant calf slipped past his mother's warm embrace, wanting to feel the wind push against his face—but within seconds, she lowered her trunk to snatch him up with a tight squeeze.
A flash of lightning and a sharp crack of thunder echoed amid the increasingly darkening clouds, and the shoebill lost his concentration. He flinched and took flight into the wind. A deepening unease spread through the throng of animals as they shuffled in their places.
Then a roar, even more thunderous than the sky, echoed across the savannah.
The young elephant calf shivered and hid behind his mother.
“What's wrong?” the calf said, his voice shaking.
“It's the king. He needs us,” she said.
The mother elephant nuzzled her young one, then raised her trunk to trumpet. Her powerful call echoed through the savannah, carried on the wind, and reached every corner of the land. The animals emerged from their burrows one by one, drawn by the urgent tone of her call, and responded with their own sounds: barking, grunting , snorting . They formed a motley herd and made their way through the raging storm, toward a clearing on the horizon.
In the center of the clearing stood a large rock, weathered and worn by centuries of use: Pride Rock. Here the community came together to celebrate, mourn, and make important announcements. The rock was a sacred place, a reminder that no matter what challenges they faced, they all belonged to the same family.
The animal kingdom knew their presence was needed. As the herd approached, animals of every size and shape filled the clearing, gathering together in anticipation of what was to come. The air was thick with the aroma of wet earth and foliage .
A lion walked out from the recess of Pride Rock: Simba, their king. His form was stiff and elongated , but his flattened ears and ever-roaming eyes hinted at his desperation. As he ended at the cliff, he bowed his head. Then he raised his head slowly and looked out into the crowd.
After a long sigh, he said, “My friends—Nala is missing. She ventured out to the northern border and was overtaken by the storm. I have looked everywhere, but now I need your help.”
Their queen was missing! As the weight of the announcement settled in, the crowd fell into stunned silence.
“The storm is very powerful,” King Simba continued. “I’m asking all of you to help me find her.”
The elephant matriarch stepped forward and asked, “What about little Kiara?” Kiara is the sole child of Simba and Nala. Everyone adored her golden eyes and endlessly curious questions.
King Simba nodded once. “She's safe in the caves. I’ve called in the security detail.”
One of the giraffes standing off to the side stepped up and asked, “Are you sure that's a good idea, Majesty?”
“I trust them,” King Simba said firmly.
Heads turned, and the crowd broke out into murmurs. Before tension escalated further, a hyena spoke loudly over the crowd. “Enough! King Simba needs us. Storm or no storm—we must find the queen!”
As the animals dispersed to form search parties to cover the entire northern border, King Simba looked toward the horizon. Quietly under his breath, with trembling words, he whispered, “Nala... where are you?”
As if King Simba's whisper could travel for miles, Nala looked up, thinking she had heard someone speaking to her. She pivoted only to find nothing behind her except for shrubs bending in the wind. She winced with every step.
Just ahead in the distance, Nala saw a rocky shelf. She sauntered underneath and growled at the little porcupine resting inside until it scurried away. She lay on the flat earth and slowly closed her eyes.
“Simba,” she whispered. “I’m here...”
She fell into a deep slumber, even with the clouds getting ready to rage for the next few hours.
The animal kingdom worked together to organize search parties. They divided the terrain into sections and split off to look for their queen. But tenacious meerkat Timon and loyal warthog Pumbaa followed a path opposite the search parties—straight to the cave at the top of Pride Rock, where Kiara rested. Simba had specifically called for them.
They turned a corner and arrived at the entrance of the cave, but a pride of lions guarded the opening. Timon and Pumbaa found themselves staring into the lions’ hardened eyes and froze.
“Security detail has arrived!” Pumbaa said, his voice rising in pitch as he fidgeted anxiously.
Timon wiggled . “Is everyone feeling more secure?”
All the lions offered blank stares.
Pumbaa stepped in closer. “I feel secure.”
Still, the lions stood stoically .
Timon broke out into hesitant chuckles . “One gentle reminder,” he began, waving his tiny paws back and forth. “We are not food.”
Ignoring his growing nerves, Pumbaa added, “No. No. No. We are just two guys walking to work through a pride of hungry lions...”
“Which is perfectly normal,” Timon added. “I’m not terrified!”
“No,” agreed Pumbaa, moving through the unmoving crowd of lions. “Whatever you’re smelling, that's not fear, and it's also not the other thing you might be smelling from me.”
King Simba awaited Timon and Pumbaa's arrival behind the pride of lions. The soft touch of the wind played with his golden mane , his presence commanding respect and admiration.
Timon stood straight, respectfully. “Security detail reporting for duty, Your Grace—Your Highness—”
“Ruler of all four-legged creatures.” Pumbaa gestured to himself with a hoof.
“And that one three-legged zebra,” Timon interjected . “Oh, right, Ron,” said Pumbaa. “That was tragic.”
“It was an eat-and-run,” joked Timon. He tried to hold back the series of giggles threatening to burst through his wiggling mouth.
“Yeah...” said Pumbaa.
King Simba rolled his eyes, but Timon did not stop. “Ron has three legs. That's still one more than me.”
Pumbaa replied, “Well, are those arms or legs?”
“I don’t know,” said Timon. “I think they’re paws.”
“I consider all of those legs,” Pumbaa said.
“Guys!” yelled Simba, commanding their attention. “This is serious. Nala is missing. We’re going back out to find her.”
“How can we help?” the two friends asked together.
“I need you to stay with Kiara until we come back,” said Simba.
“Are you saying your security detail has been called to do babysitting?” asked Pumbaa. “’Cause that is perfect. I love babysitting. Can we stay up late? Can we have snacks? Where's the snack drawer? What's our bedtime? Can we build a fort? Can we build a fort? ”
Timon kept his attention on King Simba but responded, “Pumbaa, we should really discuss this, because I don’t really love children.”
Simba sighed in exasperation . “Guys, I promised her everything would be okay.”
Timon said, “Well, that's one way to parent.”
“She's gonna have to grow up sometime,” Pumbaa suggested.
Timon snapped , “What else did you tell her—that she can be whatever she wants to be?”
“That life is fair?” Pumbaa interjected, chuckling.
Simba drove his paw into the earth, sending a small vibration through the ground. Pumbaa and Timon became quiet and looked up.
“I need you to try and act normal,” said the lion. “And most of all—no stories. Promise me.”
“No stories...” said Pumbaa.
“Wait a second—” added Timon.
“Promise me!” King Simba interrupted.
Pumbaa gave up easily. “Okay, you know what, fine. No stories.”
Simba turned away from them and entered the cave to lead them toward Kiara. First Pumbaa and Timon followed; then the rest of the lions carried the tail end.
“Speak for yourself, Pumbaa,” Timon said, never the one to back down.
“No, shhh,” said Pumbaa. “No stories.”
Timon dropped his voice to a whisper. “Okay, as long as we can tell a story anyway. Okay, we’ll tell him that we’re not gonna tell a story, then we’re gonna tell a story.”
“He can’t stop us,” Pumbaa whispered back.
Simba looked over his shoulder. “You know I can hear you, right?”
At last they reached where little Kiara sat. King Simba did the hardest thing he had ever done: he said goodbye to Kiara. He nuzzled her and whispered, “Be brave now, Kiara. Be brave.”
And then he left with the rest of his entourage as they paraded back out the way they’d come.
Silence hung in the damp air back inside the cave, where only Pumbaa, Timon, and Kiara remained. Timon, wanting to comfort the teary-eyed Kiara, blurted out , “Okay... who wants a story?”
Before anyone could answer, he dove into an engaging story of how he and Pumbaa had stopped a new false king named Scar from taking over Pride Rock.
“Scar looked at us—he knew it was the end of the line,” said Timon. “I could smell the fear.”
“That was actually me,” said Pumbaa.
Timon described how he and Pumbaa fought Scar and pushed him over the side of Pride Rock.
“And then,” Pumbaa concluded, “we ate him.”
Kiara had paid careful attention to the story, and she innocently asked, “So, you two defeated Scar? And then ate him?”
Timon smiled brightly. “Honestly, one of the best meals I ever had.”
Kiara hummed a little before saying, “My dad told me he defeated Scar.”
“Well, okay... but your dad, as we all know, is a pathological liar,” Timon said.
“He's always lying’,” Pumbaa joked. “Get it?”
Lightning struck in the distance, and the trio jumped in fright. A roar of thunder followed, and Kiara darted behind a large boulder for refuge. Timon and Pumbaa followed her, huddling close and seeking comfort and safety in each other's embrace.
“I’m scared,” said Kiara, her voice filled with trepidation . “I want Mom and Dad.”
“Look, look, look, don’t be scared, Kiara,” said Pumbaa. “How about we sing you a song? And a one, and a two—”
“Pumbaa, no!” said Timon. “It's way too early for that song.”
“It worked on Simba. He thought he had murdered his own father,” Pumbaa began. “He was singing and dancing around in seconds!”
“I can’t just turn it on like that,” Timon said. “I have to be in the moment.”
“He sang that song for six years straight,” said Pumbaa.
As they huddled together, another bolt of lightning illuminated the area, revealing a mysterious silhouette . The shadowy figure stood on three legs, and the trio watched in awe and fear as it moved closer to them. The fur on the back of Kiara's neck stood on end as she tried to discern the strange newcomer's identity.
Timon shrieked, “It's Ron, the three-legged zebra! Run for your lives!”
Pumbaa screamed. “He heard what we’ve been saying about him.” Then, almost pleading, he said, “We’re sorry, Ron, they were jokes. They were just jokes!”
But Kiara squealed happily as her eyes filled with tears. “It's Rafiki! Rafiki!”
Rafiki ambled forward with a wooden walking stick, and Kiara rushed into his arms. He cradled Kiara's head and said, “Little one, there's no reason to cry.”
She purred in his embrace. “My parents—they’re gone.”
Rafiki sighed. “Look out there, mdogo . You see those baobab trees blowing in the wind—how they bend but do not break. The roots of those trees are very strong, like your family. They go down into the earth. And even when you can’t see them, they’re all around keeping you safe.”
“Man, he's good,” muttered Pumbaa.
“Yet it makes sense that he lives alone,” said Timon.
Pumbaa was still in awe. “He's such a visual storyteller!”
Kiara's breathing evened out. “I just want the storm to pass. And then I promise to be brave!”
“I will tell you a secret,” Rafiki said. “When Simba was your age, he was afraid of the thunder—would hide behind the king.”
Kiara leaned in even closer. “When did he stop hiding?”
Rafiki rested against one of the walls of the cave. “One day, during a big storm, Mufasa walked Simba to the very top of Pride Rock, told him to stand with him and howl into the wind. Simba slowly stepped out with the king—and together they roared into the night.”
Kiara responded, “But I am not brave like my dad. And I could never be like Mufasa.”
“Is that so?” Rafiki said with an arch of his brow. “Then maybe it's time I tell you a story—a story of a cub not much bigger than you, a lion born without a drop of nobility in his blood. A lion who would change our lives forever.”
Pumbaa and Timon emerged from the shadows, Timon riding atop Pumbaa's back with a tray of wriggling treats in his hands.
“A story!” said Pumbaa. “I’m so glad I brought some crickets!”
As Timon dismounted , Pumbaa popped a bug in his mouth.
“Go easy,” said Timon. “We’re in a cave.”
Rafiki led Kiara to the edge of the plinth of Pride Rock. Kiara looked down at Rafiki's lowered palm, which now held dust and rock.
“This story begins far beyond the mountains and the shadows—on the other side of the light,” he said. “In this place, everything was dying of thirst—as twenty full moons had passed without a single drop of water. But when the skies finally opened, destiny would reign...”
He blew the dust and rock into the expanse of the cave, and as it swirled , Kiara could almost envision the story unfolding before her eyes.