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Chapter #5
Pre-exile, Mufasa still alive
by: Unknown
Simba slunk low in high grass until he could no longer feel warm sun beating on the fur of his back. His one-sided grin set menacingly against his curved eyebrows as he licked his lips. And then he pounced.
The single white butterfly flapped its wings, evading the mighty hunter's grasp.
Simba tumbled headfirst and landed on his back. Zazu circled overhead. "Young master," the blue bird admonished, "You've certainly got to train quite a bit more so you don't do a circus act every time you attempt," he let the word drip for a moment, "to hunt."
"I'm already a mighty hunter!" said Simba looking up from between his legs.
The butterfly flitted past Zazu, who eyed it sarcastically. "I can see that," he said, without looking at the young cub.
He and Nala has taken a bit of time to practice scowling through the grasslands for hunting practice. Nala was only a few meters away, probably doing some actual pouncing.
Simba looked bashful, a bit, and rubbed at this stomach, still a layer of cub-fat on it making it gently round. It gurgled in hunger loud enough he could swear he saw it move.
"Well," said Simba, "Maybe I can prove I am a real hunter after all..."
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