Simba became rather startled when he heard someone or something begin to violently sneeze behind him. Turning his head he saw a human standing over him. “Nala? She’s my best friend but that’s not my name though.” he explained as he took a small step backwards hoping he wouldn’t catch whatever the man had. “My name’s Simba. You know, prince of the Pridelands?” he smirked hoping that would impress him. But what if this man didn’t know of his royalty stature or of the Pridelands in general? Maybe he’d better try something else. “Uh..maybe you know my parents then. Do the names Sarabi and Mufasa ring a bell at all?”It said something to Flynn’s ability to adapt when talking animals no longer startled him.
Sniffling into the crook of his arm, he nodded in understanding. “Oh, yeah, I think she mentioned you.” Already the swelling of his sinuses was beginning to affect his brain, and the mention of the cub’s parents immediately set him on edge. Because the only things the parents of a cub could be were full grown lions.
“Uh, no, can’t say that I have,” Flynn said rather anxiously, looking around. “They’re not nearby, are they?”
Glancing around for either of his parents, Simba finally shook his head. “Nope. I haven’t seen ‘em in a long time or my Uncle Scar for that matter, so I’m here by myself. Wherever here is…” he replied as he laid in the grass and rolled onto his back, his golden fur beginning to absorb the sunshine from above. “So, what’s your name? You haven’t told me that yet at all.”
“Nala?” Flynn squinted down at the lion cub, knowing that it was not in fact his little friend. This one was the wrong color, and didn’t have the same eyes. And, Flynn realized as he sneezed violently, he was allergic to this one, whereas he’d grown accustomed to Nala long ago.
Simba became rather startled when he heard someone or something begin to violently sneeze behind him. Turning his head he saw a human standing over him. “Nala? She’s my best friend but that’s not my name though.” he explained as he took a small step backwards hoping he wouldn’t catch whatever the man had. “My name’s Simba. You know, prince of the Pridelands?” he smirked hoping that would impress him. But what if this man didn’t know of his royalty stature or of the Pridelands in general? Maybe he’d better try something else. “Uh..maybe you know my parents then. Do the names Sarabi and Mufasa ring a bell at all?”
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//OVER MY DEAD BODY, YAHOO.
i loOKED IT UP AND IT’S NOT FAKE
WHY CANT YAHOO JUST REALIZE IT’S DEAD ALREADY
IT’S LIKE A ZOMBIE IN DENIAL
