I can't believe I'm doing this... thought the dark maned lion as he trotted through the vast wasteland surrounding him. "Why leave now of all times? What can I possibly gain?"
The cracked plane of compressed silt which stretched out endlessly around him baked like a griddle in the increasing heat of the day. After a while, Kovu had to find shelter, some place where he could nap away the worst of what the sun had to offer, hopefully not frying in the process. He found a hollow under a sunbleached log, displaced here likely during some long past flood from lands unknown. He dug with his paws to make the cool, slightly damp place bigger and slid his lean body into it. Kovu sighed with the small pleasure of getting out of the sun as well as being able to relax now without fear of being seen by anyone sent out to search for him.
He closed his eyes and pressed his back into the crook of his narrow little cave, rolling nearly onto his back. Then he flopped over, agitated, followed by his opposite flank. This is wrong, some part seemed to say. She needs you back there, they all need you. Kovu sniffed. "I don't care," he said into the dust before rolling over into an uneasy slumber.
That evening, Kovu felt a beetle crawling over his paw and snapped it up without thought. Even the beetles are dry here, he thought absently as he squeeze himself out of his shelter. Soon there was nothing left there but his paw prints, fading rapidly away on the hard surface of the dry place.
Doggedly Kovu continued, as long and as fast as he could. He'd eaten well of the small store the Outlanders were able to supply in the barren place and hopefully his last meal would last him until he could find better climes. He knew he could not go to the Pridelands. Simba had made that quite clear the last time he'd stumbled into the region as a cub. When he'd had a juvenile crush on a young lioness there, a princess... But by now she was a half remembered memory. Kovu only really remembered the life of training and hardship imposed on him not only by the surroundings but also by his mother, Zira. Last week she had visited upon him the last of a long list of greviences stretching back through the years of his young life. But no more, not if Kovu had anything to say about it. He'd rather be a clannless rogue male than a prince in her eyes.
"P-phfaw! Prince of what? Prince of dust? Prince of wood mites? They can all rot!" Kovu said callously to the disdainful desert. And he meant it too. He would have spit if he did not value precious moisture so much.
Three days wore heavily on Kovu. He'd have already died if he had not managed to successfully dig for water in a few places, sucking muddy water out of the ground, trying to filter it with his teeth. His last meal seemed like a distant memory and his belly growled as he walked. Nothing stirred in the desert save for the buzzards and their ever watchful eyes. They were not circling yet, he must still have too much energy in his gait, and Kovu felt relieved. He trusted the judgement of vultures when it came to matters of life and death.
Another three days passed and Kovu could no longer recognize the landmarks surrounding them. He took comfort in the unfamiliarity, it told him he was now far from his former life. However, now he had only the growling of his empty stomach for company. The occasional beetle was not nearly enough to sustain him. Kovu found himself resting more often on his never ending trek. He'd lost some substantial amount of weight, judging by the feel of his ribs against the ground where he slept. He needed food and soon. But the desert... It had swallowed lions greater than he without a trace. Kovu began to worry if his might soon be just another set of bleached bones projecting from the pan hard ground. He licked his dry, cracked lips and continued on
In the middle of the night, Kovu stumbled along. He began to wonder if he had already died, long ago behind him, it'd been so long since he'd seen another living creature. Constantly he looked for low patches of shaded ground where he might dig. His hunger was a dull ache in the back of his mind, but now his thirst was threatening to kill him.
Cruelest of all, there was a patch of green before him. The moonlight shone down on the distant oasis, painfully tempting. And yet the last one he had seen had been nothing more than a mirage, remaining always in the distance, evaporating like vapor as he drew near. It would break his heart to be so deceived again with the prospect of hope.
Kovu dragged his paws over the flat ground. It was hard to remember why he'd left. What had been so bad again about living with Zira and the rest of his family? At least there had been enough food to get them by and water besides...water. He could almost smell the delicious tang of it.
Wait...he could smell it. And it was coming from ahead of him! From the mirage?
"That's no mirage," Kovu croaked lowly, trying to irritate his parched throat as little as possible. He gathered the last of his reserves and bounded across the desert, heading for the green and the promise of water it offered.
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