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She was scared of him, that much was obvious. It would have been amusing if it wasn't so sad. She was only a little bit younger than him, but she cowered away from him like a newly borne cub facing the world for the first time. Inside his head, Simba cursed at himself. He should have expected something like this to happen. Nakala probably thought he had something against her for her appearance alone. Of course if this had been even a month ago, he absolutely would have.

Simba joined his cousin on the flat stone and sighed as he sat down next to her. He could see her thinking, her eyes darting back and forth like she was watching her own thoughts bounce back and forth across her skull. Patience was never Simba's strong suit but for this, he would wait.

Finally it seemed Nakala gathered herself and fixed her eyes on the stone between them. The stutter and hesitancy in her voice when she spoke broke Simba's heart, just the tiniest bit, but he was determined not to let it show. "Much better now, honestly." he said sincerely, sighing loudly. He tipped his head back to let the wind blow through his mane. "It's peaceful, this side of the Pridelands. Quiet."

The thought that he was disturbing her own peace made him frown, and Simba tilted his head down to her in a nod of apology."If I'm intruding on your alone time, let me know and I'll go. Trust me, nobody knows better than sometimes you just gotta run away from it all."

"Run, Simba. Run away and never return." 'Shut up, Scar.' Simba mentally grumbled. Kings, how long would it take for the ghost of his past to stop pestering him? He'd avoided it well enough for his years in self-imposed exile. It seemed like now that he'd returned, his trauma was trying to make up for lost time.

Why had he ever wanted to be king? It seemed like everywhere he turned some animal needed him. 'King Simba, the zebras are infringing on our grazing fields!' 'King Simba, the crocodiles are scaring the hippo calves and making them stampede!' 'King Simba, King Simba, King Simba!' KINGS he never thought he'd get so sick of his own name. Had his father ever felt this way? Had Simba himself ever made his father feel that way?

Finally he hadn't been able to take it anymore and had begged off, stating a solo patrol of the Pridelands to do something or other. He didn't even remember anymore. All he knew was he was finally alone and making his way toward the ends of his kingdom. If he remembered right, there was a rock there that was well hidden within the Ukuni Woods that he could finally BREATHE at.

Only, when Simba finally got there, there was a lithe brown shape lounging on it, and for the briefest millisecond Simba was thrown back in time. "Hey Uncle Scar, guess what? I'm gonna be king of Pride Rock!" Simba dug his claws deep into the dirt to ground himself in the present. Scar was dead, torn apart by the very hyena army he had amassed. This was... Nakana, Nakala, something that sounded like that. One of Scar's many attempts at an heir.

Simba hadn't actually spent much time with that side of his family. Mostly his free time, when not at the beck and call of the animals of the Pridelands, was spent with the lions and lionesses from his youth. Anybody born after that, especially any of Scar's progeny, Simba had unconsciously steered clear of.

It was time to fix that though. Simba padded a bit closer to the young lioness, making no attempt to hide his pawsteps or presence, and stopped a bit way. He cleared his throat to catch her attention, if his approach hadn't already, and nodded his head to the spot next to her. "This spot taken?" he asked.