Lyrics

A brand new day was going to dawn on the Pride Lands several months later; the rains had come and gone. While young Simba grew in size until he was a healthy cub, having lost the baby fat when he was a baby, he also grew in confidence and adventure. From the time when the sun rose to when it set, he was full of energy, only finally settling down when it was time for bed. One morning, Simba woke up earlier than the other lions. He had just come out of a dream of him and his father rescuing a family of mongooses and fighting off crocodiles together. He watched the savannah below Pride Rock, ready to get out there and explore. He looked back to see if one of the cubs had gotten up too, but they were still asleep. But Simba realized that he didn't need a playmate today; no, today was the day he would get to spend quality time with his father. "Dad! Dad!" he yowled, running back into the cave. "Come on, we gotta go! Wake up!" He jumped among the mass of lionesses and cubs, trying not to step on them. Even though he did pounce on another lion's back by accident, he apologized, which was returned with a sleepy grunt. Finally, Simba reached the back of the cave, where his parents slept. While Simba had grown since his ceremony, he was still tiny compared to his father Mufasa. "Dad!" Simba chirped, trying to get Mufasa's attention. But Mufasa answered with a snore, leading Simba to whine, "Daaadd…" Sarabi had opened an eye, to make sure that her son wasn't hurt or sick. When she saw that he was just antsy, she smiled and closed her eye again. "Your son is awake," she mumbled to Mufasa with amusement. "Before sunrise, he is your son," Mufasa muttered back among Simba's repeating of "Dad". In the meantime, Simba kept trying his best to wake his father up. Tugging on his ear didn't work, since he ended up tumbling into some bones, so he tried headbutting the area below his jaw. "You promised!" he said with a pout. Mufasa opened his eyes to find himself staring into Simba's pouting face, half drowsy and half amused. "Okay, okay," he muttered. "I'm up." Simba cheered and spun around in a few circles. Mufasa let out a loud yawn, which sounded a bit like a roar. Beside him, Sarabi rolled onto her paws, bending down to lick his cheek, which he returned with a gentle headbutt. While the other lionesses and their cubs were beginning to stir, the royal family walked out of the cave. Simba darted over to his mother, rubbing against her legs, and Sarabi nuzzled him in return, nudging him along. She watched father and son leave with a smile on her muzzle. "So what'll we do today, Dad?" Simba asked once they left Sarabi behind. "Give orders for the hunt? Chase any bad guys out?" Mufasa didn't answer, only strolled ahead. But he was heading towards the back of Pride Rock, not away from it. "Dad?" Simba piped up, confused. "You're going the wrong way!" Mufasa grinned over his shoulder. "Who says I'm going the wrong way?" was all he asked before walking on. "Come. Follow me." So Simba decided not to argue and followed his father. While he struggled to leap from ledge to ledge on the side of Pride Rock, Mufasa merely pulled himself up with ease. He was an adult, so it was easier for an adult to do it than a cub. Simba was already feeling tired from the climb, but he didn't want to give up now. Finally, they reached the top, and Simba walked over to sit by Mufasa, who sat near the edge of the top of Pride Rock, looking out towards the horizon before letting out a roar. To Mufasa, it was to signal to the kingdom that he had awoken and was ready to start the day. Nothing happened for a few moments after the roar, and soon, it felt like hours. Simba almost wished he hadn't gotten up so early; that way, whatever Mufasa wanted to show him could come sooner. "What're we doing up here?" Simba mewed. "There's nothing going on. Am I even allowed to be up here?" Mufasa shifted his gaze to Simba, his eyes and face serious. Then he looked back to the horizon. "Look, Simba," he rumbled. "Everything the light touches is our kingdom." Simba followed his gaze and looked out to the savannah. The sun was now rising, huge and magnificent and golden, bathing the land with orange and yellow. Life was beginning to stir on the open plains and forests that inhabited the Pride Lands. It was a beautiful sight, a breathtaking view, and anything else that Simba wished he could describe better. "Wow...you rule all of this?" the cub asked his father. Mufasa nodded. "Yes. A king's time as ruler rises and falls like the sun. One day, Simba, the sun will set on my time here, and it will rise with you as the new king." Simba lowered his ears at the tone of Mufasa's voice. He seemed to have a mixture of seriousness and sadness in his tone. A shiver ran through Simba's fur as he thought of his father possibly dying, and it made him sad. But the sadness was suddenly replaced by realization. "Wait, you're saying that this will all be mine?" he asked Mufasa. "In a way. Though it does not entirely belong to the king, or to anyone," Mufasa added. "This land will be yours to protect. As king, it is my duty to protect everything the light touches, to be the first servant to the kingdom, and it will be your duty one day to carry on in my place." Simba nodded and turned his head anywhere he could see. Mufasa knew that it was too much for a young cub to take in all at once, but he would learn. Lions had been known to grow up fast in the Pride Lands, more than anywhere else in North America. "Everything the light touches..." Simba repeated his father's words, his eyes darting to the watering hole and the mountains. Then he noticed a darker area outside the Pride Lands' borders. "What about that shadowy place?" "That's beyond our borders, in the Outlands," Mufasa replied, his eyes on the shadowy place. "You must never go there, Simba." "But I thought a king can do whatever he wants," Simba questioned. "You know, take some territory." Mufasa smirked. "Oh, there's more to being a king than getting your way all the time." Simba's face lit up, and his ears perked. "There's more?" "Simba..." Mufasa broke off with an amused laugh. Then he let his face become serious as he said, "Yes, there is more. While others search for what they can take, a true king searches for what he can give." It sounded a bit too complicated for Simba. He wanted to know more about how being a king meant being in charge of the place. But he wanted to learn more from his father. So when Mufasa began climbing down from Pride Rock, Simba did his best to match his stride and amble. While they walked, Mufasa pointed out the various places in the Pride Lands. He introduced Simba to the grove where the elephants rested in the shade, a small oasis where smaller animals could live, and everything else. Other animals were up already and moving about. Birds were flocking in the air, and two young male rhinos were practicing their fighting, their horns clashing. For the predators, he saw wild dogs feeding their pups from a zebra carcass, regurgitating the meat so that the pups had something softer to eat. As a herd of antelope raced by, Simba wanted to join in their run, try to even catch one. But Mufasa shook his head; there would be time for that later. "Everything you see exists together in a delicate balance," he told his son as they walked on. "As king, you need to understand that balance. To understand that balance, you must respect all the creatures, from the crawling ant to the leaping antelope." "But Dad, don't we eat the antelope?" Simba asked, watching the antelope disappear behind some shrubs. Mufasa nodded. "Yes, Simba, but let me explain. When we die, our bodies become the grass, and the antelope eat the grass. And so, we are all connected in the great Circle of Life." Simba looked down with his father to the watering hole, where plenty of animals were gathering. Zebras were drinking from the shallow end, giraffes were browsing from the acacia trees, bears are catching salmon, vultures are circling around, and birds called oxpeckers were landing on these animals, picking off any parasites for their next meal. As for Simba, he was amazed and stunned at how much the world worked. Suddenly, a voice chirped above them, "Good morning, Sire!" Father and son looked up as Zazu flew in from above and landed before them on a rock. His bright red beak seemed to be the only thing in the Pride Lands that was brighter than the sun. "Good morning, Zazu," Mufasa greeted. "Checking in for the morning report," Zazu said with a quick bow. "Fire away," Mufasa replied. "Well, the buzz from the bees is that the flamingos are taking a stand," Zazu reported. Mufasa nodded for him to go on, and he did. "The leopards are in a bit of a spot, and the baboons are going ape over this. The giraffes were caught necking, but of course, they are acting like they were above it all. Pua and his crocodiles are snapping up fresh offers by the banks..." While Zazu talked and Mufasa listened, Simba was getting a little bored with hearing all of the morning report. Just then, he noticed a cricket hopping around. He waited while Mufasa and Zazu were talking and then started following the cricket. He pounced after it, but it was always out of reach. "What are you doing?" Mufasa asked curiously. Simba stopped pouncing when he realized that he hadn't caught the cricket. "Pouncing." Mufasa had a big grin on his face. "Some fun, eh? Let an old pro show you how it's done." Meanwhile, Zazu was continuing his morning report. "The tick birds are pecking on the elephants. I told the elephants to forget it, but they can't. The cheetahs are hard up from failing to steal the baboons' dinner. But as I always say, cheetahs never prosper." He paused to laugh at his joke before continuing. "The vultures have a hunch that not everyone will be back from lunch. The buffalo have a beef about this season's grass, then the warthogs have been thwarted in attempts to save their gas. Then the grizzly bears are chasing secretary birds, then the wolves in the pack are howling in the morning. I'm like, Wolves, we get it. I noticed the sea lions on the beach with penguins. Nine wild dogs have caught a carcass followed by otters playing in the river. The dolphins are doing extraordinary leaps in the pool, the beetles are rolling dung followed by the zebras that play with impala. I noticed hippos and rhinos in the mud rolling around." "Stay low to the ground," Mufasa whispered to Simba, his voice so low that Zazu couldn't hear. Simba nodded and repeated it to himself a few times, leading Mufasa to scold gently, "Not a sound." "What's going on?" Zazu asked, taking a short break from his report. "Just giving Simba a pouncing lesson," replied Mufasa. "Turn around, please." "Oh, right. Pouncing." Then Zazu squawked with shock, "Pouncing?! Oh, Sire, you can't be serious!" All Mufasa did was smirk and signal for Zazu to turn around. Zazu groaned but did as he was told, muttering, "This is so humiliating..." In the meantime, Mufasa was still instructing Simba on how to hunt. "Check the wind," he murmured. "Stay in the shadows, and take it slow. And wait for the perfect moment to pounce." "What are you telling him now?" Zazu demanded. But when he looked around, no one answered or was in sight. No one except the sounds of other birds singing. "Mufasa?" peeped Zazu, cringing. "...Simba?" And just like that, Simba came out of nowhere, catching Zazu off guard. He pounced until he slammed Zazu to the ground. Mufasa laughed, and Simba left his "catch", trotting back to his father with his head and tail high. Zazu got up, grumbling and dusting off his feathers. He was just about to fly over and remind the lions that he was their advisor, not their plaything when a mole rat popped out of the ground. He whispered something to Zazu, leading the majordomo to fly up and check the area. In the meantime, Mufasa was still praising Simba for his pouncing skills. He was just going to instruct him some more on new hunting techniques when Zazu suddenly flew down to them. "Sire!" he shrieked. "Hyenas, in the Pride Lands! They're on the hunt!" Immediately, Mufasa was on alert. He was no longer laughing, his face has become deadly serious. "Is Sarabi with the lionesses? Can you see them?" "Yes, they're trying to drive those brutes out," Zazu reported. "Good. Zazu, take Simba home," Mufasa commanded. "I have to help defend our borders." With that, he began to run off. The hyenas had broken their agreement of not intruding into the Pride Lands. They had their own land, while those living in the Pride Lands had theirs. Borders were needed for this purpose, his father had once told him. Now he would need to drive them out yet again. "Aw, Dad, can I come?" Simba begged. "I can help!" "No, Simba," Mufasa told him sternly. "This isn't something for young ones to get involved with. You stay with the other cubs, where it's safe." And with that, he ran off. Simba tried one more time to go after him, but Zazu flew down and landed in his path. In the meantime, Mufasa was now nothing more than a speck slowly disappearing. "I never get to go anywhere," Simba grumbled aloud as he marched back to Pride Rock. "Oh, young master, you will. One day, you'll be king," Zazu reminded him. "And then you can chase those slobbering mangy stupid poachers from dawn till dusk! Now come, let's get you home." Simba grumbled, but he followed Zazu while the hornbill took to the air. He had wanted to spend the entire day with Mufasa, helping him out. But instead, he had to spend the rest of the day with the other cubs. Life wasn't fair at times. Simba watched the other cubs at play, partaking in games like Catch The Tail or Pounce On The Pebble; one of the cubs (a male named Tojo) even let some birds he and Simba had raised roost on his back. Right now, though, he wasn't in the mood for playing with his peers. He usually liked hanging around with the other cubs, but a part of him still pouted over being left behind by Mufasa. I'll show him I can hunt, he decided to himself. Then he'll have to take me hunting and fighting with him. He looked around, looking for something to hunt. He saw Zazu perching on a branch near the edge of the cubs' clearing, keeping an eye on them along with some of the other lionesses. But Simba decided not to for two reasons. The first was that Zazu was out of reach, and the second was that he had pounced on him earlier anyway. So he kept looking for a target to pounce on, one that would not fly away. The other cubs were another option. But Simba would tell them what he was doing, and they would want to play too. He just wasn't in the mood to have the other cubs butting in on his fun. So he kept looking again until he noticed a blue beetle climbing on a log not far away. It was minding its own business, and it was also the perfect target for his hunt. Remembering what Mufasa taught him, Simba slunk low in the grass. He was inching farther away from the other cubs until he was near the bottom of Pride Rock. The beetle kept going it's merry way; if it knew that Simba was stalking it, it paid him no attention. "I'm gonna be a mighty king," he whispered to himself, edging closer to the beetle. "Enemies beware..." He crept ever so close to the beetle, up until his face was near its shiny blue body. Suddenly, the beetle extended its wings and fluttered off, leaving Simba to watch it go...and then it landed in front of him again. Simba smiled and prepared for his pounce. "If you wish to kill something, you might want to stay downwind." Simba whipped around and jumped a foot into the air. Scar was watching him from the shadow of his own den, laying down and glowering. His dark tawny fur and black mane were well hidden in the shadows, which was why Simba was startled. The cub himself wondered if his uncle was ever in a good mood to talk. "I know how to hunt, Uncle Scar," Simba told the dark lion. "I'm just helping protect the Pride Lands. Watch!" He pounced at the beetle, but it flew off for good this time. All that left Simba to do was crash into the rock nose-first. He backed away, grumbling and rubbing his nose with a paw. "Well, let's pray that we're never attacked by a beetle. Wouldn't want to have a scar like mine, would we?" Scar responded, his scowl almost making a sneer. He turned away with his back towards Simba, swishing his tail. "Now go back to the other cubs. I don't babysit." In spite of Scar's harshness, Simba wasn't let down. His father showing him the kingdom was still buzzing in his mind, the thought of becoming king buzzing even more. "Oh, wait a minute!" he said, running up towards the den. "Hey, Uncle Scar, guess what?" Scar, who was already back in his den, stopped strolling and rolled his eyes. "I despise guessing games." "I'm gonna be king of Pride Rock," Simba boasted. Scar scowled even more until his teeth were almost bared. He didn't want to be reminded that he would not get to be king, not while Mufasa and his bratty cub were still alive. "Is that so?" he muttered with dripping sarcasm, giving Simba a withering glare when the cub's back was turned. Simba walked over towards Scar until he climbed onto the rock hanging near the entrance of his den. "Think about it. When I'm king, I get to give you orders and tell you what to do. How weird is that?" "Oh, goody," Scar grumbled. Hearing all this made him want to throw up or hack up hairballs like he had seen caracals do once upon a time. "Dad showed me the entire kingdom this morning. And I'm gonna rule it all!" Simba added with a laugh. "Well, forgive me for not leaping for joy," growled Scar. "Bad back, you know." And with that, he flopped down to the cave floor, trying to ignore Simba. But the cub's scent told him that Simba was still there, curious as ever. Simba followed him into the cave. He had never been in here before, and now he could see why. It felt colder than the den above them, the air smelled funny, and bones seemed to litter the ground like old branches. This place seemed creepy, but his curiosity won him over. "Hey Uncle Scar," Simba said, running over and leaning on Scar's black mane. "When I'm king, what does that make you?" "A monkey's uncle," Scar grumbled. Simba laughed and tumbled away from Scar. "You're so weird." This time, Scar grinned. "You have no idea," he said, just as an idea was taking seed in his mind. He lifted himself up and walked to the entrance of his cave. "So your father showed you the whole kingdom, did he?" "Everything," replied Simba. "He showed me the watering hole, the mountains, just...everything." "He didn't show you what's beyond that rise at the northern border, though, did he?" Scar pressed on. Simba groaned and sat down. He didn't know that Scar had known about the shadowy place at the border. "No. He said I can't go there. Ever." "And he's absolutely right!" Scar declared to Simba's surprise. "It's far too dangerous. Only the bravest lions go there." As Scar had predicted, Simba perked up, curious. "Well, I'm brave. What's out there?" "No, I'm sorry, Simba. I just can't tell you," Scar said with a bit of a pompous air, turning away from him. "Why not?" "Simba, Simba," Scar said, gently rubbing the cub's head, "I'm only looking out for the well-being of my favorite nephew." Simba playfully wriggled out of his uncle's grasp. "Yeah, right. I'm your only nephew." Scar grinned. "All the more reason for me to be protective. An elephant graveyard is no place for a young prince." Then he pretended to gasp and say, "Oops!" "An elephant what?" Simba mewed in amazement. No wonder Mufasa didn't want him going there; though it could just be the bones everywhere, that was a place he wanted to go. "Whoa!" "Oh dear, I've said too much!" Scar chided himself. Then he grinned again, a crafty grin. "Well, I suppose you'd have found out sooner or later, you being so clever and all." "Have you been there?" Simba asked, more curious than ever. Mufasa had always told him to leave Scar alone, saying that he wasn't a very social lion. But so far, Scar didn't seem so bad to him, once he got past the grumpy attitude. Scar grinned. "Of course. Every lion has been there. I've been there, your father was there, your mother was there, and...basically, every lion who's anybody has been there. However, it's no place for a cub." When Simba scowled at the thought of 'cub' being mentioned again, Scar pressed on, "Seriously, it's pretty dangerous there for a cub. All those rotting bones and oozing puddles of mud are just...well, I daresay that it would take a full year to get the filth from there off of your fur." While his words were discouraging, they intrigued Simba. Now he really wanted to go there and find out what the place was like. It was way too tempting to pass up. It would even be worth it to see all those rotting bones and oozing mud. "It's just one appalling area to avoid at all costs. Just promise me one thing," Scar said, pulling Simba in close for a hug. "Promise me you'll never visit that dreadful place!" It almost sounded fun, the elephant graveyard. If anything, Scar's words seemed to encourage him even more, making him want to go there. But he gave Scar a smile and replied, "No problem!" Scar smiled in return and let Simba up. "There's a good lad. You run along now, have some fun, and play. And remember," he called before Simba could run off some more, "it's our little secret, your majesty." Simba ran off, leaving Scar behind. It was a secret that he wasn't going to tell anyone at all...well, almost everyone. There was one person he would go ask about the elephant graveyard. So he ran off to find that someone. As for Scar, he smirked and headed back into his den. That was much easier than he had thought. Hearing Simba talk about how he would be king was even more unbearable, now that Mufasa had to blab about the "Circle of Life". So he decided that, in order to be next in line again, Simba would need to go. Simba ran as he could from one end of Pride Rock to the other, trying to search for that someone to tell his secret to. It definitely couldn't be one of the adults, for they would know what he was up to. He would be in big trouble, and so could Uncle Scar for telling him about it. No, he would have to tell his best friend only. One of those places was an outcropping where his mother Sarabi lay with the other lionesses in the pride. She must have gotten back from chasing the hyenas away, looking relaxed already in spite of the new scars on her pelt, and the other lionesses had begun their first-morning hunt. Near her was her friend Sarafina, who was giving her daughter a hunting lesson. When they saw a gazelle, the lionesses and Nala charged and pounced on the gazelle. Now, the lionesses and Nala had begun the next hunt, hunting for zebras. Her daughter, Nala, was one of Simba's closest friends in the Pride Lands, a young light-furred female cub with teal eyes. Nala herself was eager to spend the day with Simba. They would often get into mischief together and hang out together, like going to the watering hole, pretending that other lions' tails were a snake, and practicing fighting. Being friends with a prince certainly had its advantages. It even felt nice to be treated like royalty, even if she and her mother weren't royal like Mufasa and his queen and son. But today, she had to get the next hunting lesson from her mother. Fortunately for her, her luck changed. Simba came running into the clearing, greeting the other lionesses as they greeted the prince. "Hey, Nala," Simba greeted her when he got to her. "Hi, Simba," Nala greeted back with a smile. Simba smiled too and darted a bit away. "Come on, I just heard about this great place." Nala frowned as her mother kept hunting for a zebra. "Simba, I'm going hunting with my mother." "This is a place your mother would never go," said Simba. "So where is it? Better not be any place lame!" said Nala. "No, it's really cool," said Simba. "So, where is this really cool place?" asked the lionesses. Simba had almost forgotten that his own mother was behind him. "Oh...around the watering hole." Nala looked up from her first hunt, unimpressed. "The watering hole? What's so great about the watering hole?" Simba grinned up at his mother before turning to Nala. "I'll show you when we get there," he whispered tersely. "Oh," Nala replied, now nodding in understanding. She looked up at her mother with big teal eyes. "Mom, can I go with Simba?" Sarafina shrugged before looking up at her friend and queen. "What do you think, Sarabi?" "I do know that the hyenas could still be lurking around," Sarabi began. "Well..." "Pleeeeease?" Simba and Nala asked with big grins. "But I'm pretty sure we scared them off," Sarabi went on. "So as long as you stay in the shallow end, it's alright with me." "Yeah!" "All right!" Simba couldn't believe that it worked; he was going to show Nala the elephant graveyard after all. They were just about to leave when what Sarabi said next ruined their mood: "You can go there as long as Zazu goes with you." This caused them to grind to a halt. "Zazu?" said Simba and Nala. "Oooh, no! Not Zazu!" Simba groaned. The hornbill was going to ruin his plan. "Either Zazu goes with you, or you don't go at all," Sarabi called firmer this time. The lionesses continued their hunt again. And there it was, Simba thought with a roll of his eyes. So they had to wait until Zazu came back to escort the cubs to their destination. "Step lively, everyone! Come on! Step up! Let's move as a unit!" Zazu called from above the cubs. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave! When we get to the watering hole, you are to stay in the shallow end." The two cubs walked slowly along under Zazu's shadow, through the tall savannah grass. Soon, the soft soil underneath them would harden into tough earth once the dry season rolled around, but it was comforting for now. And other than Zazu occasionally humming to himself, it was pretty peaceful. "So where are we really going?" Nala whispered. "You can't fool me, Simba. It's not the watering hole." Simba turned to Nala in surprise. If there was one thing Nala knew well about him, it was that he always had a trick up his sleeve. "How'd you know that?" Nala smiled. "It's not hard to guess. You hate getting in the water. So as I was asking, where are we going?" "I've heard about this place, Nala," Simba whispered on. "The most incredible, the most amazing - " At this, Nala swished her tail. "Just tell me where!" "An elephant graveyard," Simba replied. "WOW!" Nala exclaimed loudly. Simba saw Zazu look down briefly at them, so he ran over to Nala's side to shush her. "Shh...Zazu!" he reminded her, eyes darting up to the hornbill. Nala nodded. "Sorry. How far is it?" "Not far," Simba replied, but then he realized that he had no idea how 'not far' it was. "Just to the shadowy place beyond the borders. My uncle Scar told me that everyone's been there." "We've never been that far before. What if we get lost?" Nala asked, looking nervous for the first time. Right now, Simba nearly felt the same way. He actually had no idea if he and Nala would find their way back home. Just the thought of being lost in the middle of the wilderness made him feel very small. It was a very scary thought. But then again, he didn't want to be scared in front of Nala. He was the future king; kings were always brave and did not get lost. And after all, Scar even said that every lion had been there. So he declared, "Relax, Nala. My dad and I patrolled the entire kingdom this morning. We don't have anything to worry about." "Almost anything," said Nala, looking up to the sky. Simba followed her gaze and saw Zazu circling around as if he was being chased by bees. Suddenly, Zazu began squawking. "We have an imminent threat! Something is approaching!" Then, as the cubs froze from fright, Zazu spoke again, relieved. "Oh, never mind. It's my own shadow." Then he continued monitoring the area, not embarrassed at all by his self-interruption. When the cubs kept walking, Nala muttered, "So how are we going to ditch the dodo?" "Leave it to me," Simba bragged. "And I'll get us to freedom." Zazu's shadow grew bigger, and Simba looked up. The hornbill had landed on the ground before them, a big smile on his beak. "How lovely it is to see the future king and queen," Zazu greeted them as he flew down. "Little seeds of romance blossoming on the savannah...your parents would be thrilled. It's so thrilling, I can just molt!" Nala's ears perked. "What do you mean?" "You know, you being betrothed and all," replied Zazu. "What?" Simba was utterly confused. Zazu flapped his wings. "You know...betrothed. Intended. Affianced." "Simba, you speak bird?" Nala asked wryly. "Meaning?" Simba asked, even more, confused than ever. "Married! One day, you two will be married," Zazu informed them. When the cubs didn't respond, he added a bit more impatiently, "To each other!" For one long moment, the cubs gave Zazu a look, and then at each other. Then Simba realized what Zazu meant. It meant something along the lines of what Mufasa and Sarabi were to each other: a married couple. He and Nala made disgusting sounds at the thought of it. "I can't marry her," Simba told Zazu. "She's my best friend!" "Yeah, it'd be really weird," Nala added. "Plus, he can't eat impala." "I can too," Simba argued. "I just don't like impala. Plus, you're the one who's scared of rhinos." He turned back to Zazu and declared, "Face it, Zazu. Nala and I are not getting married." "A monarch who ignores tradition? The conservative way of life in the Pride Lands?" Zazu remarked while Simba mimicked Zazu's words in a mocking way behind him. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but you two turtledoves have no choice. It's a tradition going back generations." Simba shared a smile with Nala. "When I'm king, that'll be the first thing to go." Zazu sniffed. "Not so much when I'm around." "In that case, you're fired," Simba said with a smirk. "Hmph!" Zazu huffed. "Nice try, but only the king can do that." "But he's the future king," Nala reminded Zazu. "Yeah," Simba said with a smirk, jabbing Zazu's wing. "And that means you have to do what I tell you to do." Zazu was now getting irritated, his feathers fluffing out. "Not yet, I don't! And with an attitude like that, I'm afraid you're shaping up to be a pretty pathetic king indeed!" Simba smirked. "Not the way I see it. When I'm king, I won't let anyone tell me where to go, what to do, or even who to marry." He spun around on his heels and made a run for it, Nala keeping up with him. "There will never be a king like me!" "Simba!" Zazu squawked behind them. "You can't escape from your destiny!" "Just watch me!" Simba crowed back. "I'll be a mighty king!" Zazu suddenly put on a burst of speed and landed in front of the cubs. "This would be a setback for the Pride Lands' royal family," he chided the prince. "No one will take a king acting like a cub seriously." "I'm still growing up," Simba argued back. "I'm working on my roar!" He opened his mouth to roar, only for a meow-like sound to come out. "Oh, bravo," Zazu said with dripping sarcasm, getting a headstart. "Shall I give you a grand prize for that roar?" Simba and Nala rolled their eyes. They caught Zazu off guard by running off yet again. "You know, you're really annoying me, Zazu!" he called over his shoulders. "I won't listen to you when I'm older! I just can't wait to be king!" Zazu was getting fed up with the disrespect he was getting from the prince of the Pride Lands. He flapped his wings and took off after them, like an eagle homing in on a hare. "You know what? That's it! I won't argue anymore!" he called down to them. "Forget going to the watering hole! We're going home right now!" But the cubs didn't pay any attention. They got into flamingos. When Simba and Nala watched the flamingos fly off, they go in the middle of some zebras heading towards the watering hole, managing to lose Zazu in the herd. While Zazu tried finding them among the stripes and hooves, Simba and Nala made their getaway and ran for the watering hole using a shortcut. That included having to be briefly chased by banded mongooses since they used their tunnels as the shortcut. When Zazu did manage to spot them, Simba and Nala noticed some ostriches heading towards the watering hole as well. The ostriches seemed to recognize Simba as the prince, for two lowered themselves to the ground and watch them. The cubs had a good time running faster meeting animals than the wind, and hearing talk among the ratites including the ostriches. According to one ostrich, her daughter Asha had her egg protected by a meerkat before she hatched. Once they were sure that they were away from Zazu, the ostriches try to peck Zazu before landing on a hippo submerged deep in the water. They finally reached the watering hole, and it was packed. Animals were either drinking from the water or relaxing in the shallows. Zebra, antelope, giraffes, buffalo, and elephants drank at the water's edge. Rhinos and hippos rolled around in the mud near the shallow end. Birds used the water in the shallow end to take a quick bath. Even the two only crocodiles in this watering hole didn't feel like eating; what mattered to them was resting in the sun. "Simba! Nala!" Zazu called. He had put on as much speed as he could and flew as fast as he could. "Oh, where are you? Mufasa will have my pinfeathers for this...Simba! Nala! It's my duty to keep you safe!" Any moment now, and Zazu would soon be upon them. Simba and Nala shared glances; they would have to do something quick, or they would be caught. "Hello?" Simba tried to call above the noise. "Can anyone help us?" Not many animals could hear them, though. The only one who answered was a young hippo, saying something to his parents before wallowing out of the mud. In spite of being a calf, he was still bigger than the two cubs combined. "Sure. I'd love to help," he said with a smile. "My name's Beshte." "You see that hornbill over there, Beshte?" Simba asked. "The annoying one with the blue-and-white feathers and the big red beak?" The hippo calf named Beshte nodded. "Yeah. That's the majordomo, Zazu. My dad's told me all about him." His ears waggled as he continued. "I've got a lot of questions to ask him. Like my dad always says, you learn something new every day." "Then go ask him all the questions you want," Nala persuaded him. "Play with him. Anything." Beshte nodded and plodded over to Zazu. The hornbill was still among the crowd, trying to ask if anyone had seen Simba. Simba and Nala watched the young hippo approach Zazu before turning around and running. "Excuse me, young hippo. Have you seen a lion cub with golden fur and amber eyes?" Zazu was asking Beshte. "He's small, but he's cute. And so is the little paler cub with him." "Yeah, I did see two cubs like that," said Beshte. "But I'm glad to meet you, Zazu. My name's Beshte. I've heard about you, and I've got a lot of questions to ask you." Zazu nodded frantically. "Ask me only a few. I have two lion cubs to find!" So Beshte asked away, starting with if Zazu had any children or what his favorite food was. He even asked who the best members of the Lion Guard had been. But as the hornbill was done, more baby animals crowded around him, asking questions of their own. While Zazu was distracted (along with weavers swarming around him), the two lion cubs made their getaway, running as far from the watering hole as they could. They had done it. They had ditched Zazu and were going to the elephant graveyard.