Prince Simba of the Pridelands
Walking...How long had he been walking? He couldn't remember. A bought of depression had caused him to leave the comfort of the jungle and the companionship of his two friends, Timon and Pumbaa. Surely it hadn't been that long, but then again, he had been wrong before. Perhaps the vibration that he had felt early had started to shake his memory. Ah! The vibration -- that he couldn't forget. The young lion looked down at his human hands. That had been the moment when he changed, but the moments right before he had forgotten.
He could have swore that he had been in the jungle, but soon he found himself in the middle of a path, a strange and hard path with lines that he had never seen before. Once Simba had discovered that he had changed, he immediately tried to turn back, but a large cavern in the path blocked his way. Strange enough, Simba never remembered coming across the pit when he had made his way to this point, and yet... there it was and here he was.
Funny-looking trees littered the path, with what looked like vines connecting them. They had no leaves and some of the vines had fallen; how they were not dead, he didn't know. He could also see smaller trees, but they were odd and mis-colored, having a blue or green top and a silver trunk. Simba cautiously made his way to one and with his new, strangly-shaped paws, he touched the green. It was cold and thin, but had he ran his fingers across it, the white lines rose. One flaked off at his touch and he immediately withdrew his hand. What was this place?
A cold gust of wind suddenly blew through the fog and realizing the lack of fur, Simba quickly covered himself in his arms, touching the odd skin that he now had. Freezing was not pleasant and he slowly made his way to one of the caves. A strange thing of wood was blocking the entrance, but a gentle push forced it open. It didn't take long to find things to cover his new body.
He was warm finally, happy to find new fur, but confused on why it was separated into different pieces and different colors. The fur on his torso was pink and hugged him tightly, but it covered him. Whatever it was was much, much softer than the fur on his legs and came up to his chin. Upon seeing his reflection in the standing water, he laughed at how much he looked like a strange turtle. The fur on his legs was not as warm or soft as the pink turtle shell, but they were blue came down to around his ankles.
Simba remained in front of the standing water and examined himself. He looked the same, but still so different. His reddish-brown mane no longer covered his face, but stopped at his ears and trailed down to his check. His skin was still the same dark yellow, but his fur had been cut or shortened, or something. The young lion leaned closer to the water to examine his face, but slowly another face had taken his place.
"Son, you have forgotten me."
The voice was silent, but still he jumped back from the face. His head shook and his body followed suit.
"N-no. Father, I could never. I haven't!"
"Remember."
"Father, I-"
"Remember who you are."
As soon as the face had appeared, it vanished. Tears stung Simba's eyes. He hadn't forgotten. How could he? After what he had done. After he had killed his father, how could he forget? He was a murderer.
Slowly the lion turned and made his way out of the cave, his mind swimming with emotion and thought. And that was when he heard them... voices. He may have changed in his appearance, but he could still hear. He turned in the direction and began to follow them.
There they were, many of them. He wasn't sure what they were exactly, but they looked like him. Simba made his way to the herd and quietly observed them. All of them seemed to be misplaced and most of them seemed scared. He glanced over at what looked like a cliff and saw people staring at a flat piece of bark.
Timon! He could have swore that one of the ladies had said his name. Did he know her? Did she know him? Quickly he made his way to her, stopping just before he touched her.
"Timon? Did you say Timon?" Simba asked, his brown eyes full of hope. Maybe she would recognize him. Maybe.
Claire - Mausoleum - Raven/Aiden/Sebastian/York/Torque
