paixaorpg | On Letting Go [Active]

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On Letting Go [Active]

Character(s): Timon, Pumbaa, and the cubs Simba, Kiara and Kovu.
Content: Days of Our Lions goes on.
Setting: The zoo that has become of Vyers' apartment.
Time: Morning.
Warnings: Manly tears and bromance?

Even after they had been assured Simba would be alright Timon showed no signs of leaving the lion’s side. He remained seated across from him on the couch, a notable look of worry still written on his face. It may not have appeared so, but the meerkat was incredibly grateful for Dagger’s aid, relieved to know his pal would be alright… this time. But would he be so lucky the next? Would Kovu be there to fend for Simba? Even if he grounded the lion for life, restricted him from ever leaving the apartment, he knew it would be pointless. Zira and had found him once and she had more than enough determination to find him again.

Having heard Kiara mention she was going to check on Kovu, Timon watched Kiara head out to the balcony, his own thoughts wandering to Pumbaa. Unsure whether or not the warthog had woken from the amount of noise in the room, though Timon highly doubted it, he went to check on his friend.

He effortlessly climbed onto one of the warthogs tusk and took firm hold of his ear to speak into it. “Pumbaa,” the meerkat said hoarsely, “Pumbaa, are you awake?” Feeling the warthog move beneath him, Timon was only met with disappointment when he receive a loud snore in response. A heavy sigh escaped him. Honestly, Pumbaa could sleep through an earthquake. “Pumbaa, wake up.” He tried again, this time a little louder to get the reply consisting only of ‘grubs’. The meerkat frowned and after a moment, climbed back down to deliver a good kick to the warthog’s backside. Normally he’d of chosen the pigs stomach, but the last time he had kicked Pumbaa there all plant and animal life within’ a mile radius had dropped dead. Besides, they wanted Simba to wake up.

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Pumbaa's eyes flashed open. "Huh? Who? What?" His head darted back and forth, trying to find those juicy, yummy bugs he'd been dreaming about, but then he realized he'd woken up. He looked back at Timon and whined a little. "Awww, Timoooon, I was having a really nice dream. There was a great big log stuffed with all kinds of bugs, and you and me and Simba were there, and there were other logs nearby with even more bugs!"

But Pumbaa stopped talking once he saw Timon. Something was wrong with his bestest best friend. "Timon...what happened? Are you all right?" A pause, then another thought, spoken a little softer, with a little more concern. "Did something happen to Simba?"

“I’m fine.” Timon replied quietly, rubbing his arm in discomfort. He quickly looked away from the warthog, his gaze wandering back to Simba. “That… Idiot over there went and... and… was stupid enough ta… Ugh!” The meerkat clenched his fists and stomped in place, seemingly at a loss of words. “Why, when he wakes up, I outta…!” He was furious. No doubt about it. But in contrast to the usual frustration he sprouted it seemed so… empty, so forced. Timon was unsure what to do with himself other than shout and tromp around as he usually did, that was the release he knew and, unfortunately, it wasn’t working.

As the meerkat’s rowdy antics met an end, Timon appearing to have calmed down, he buried his face in his paw. “Oh, Pumbaa,” he began morosely. “Kid really scared me this time. If Kovu and Kiara hadn’t of found him-” Timon inhaled sharply, his voice breaking off at the thought. He regretted having let Simba go out. But, even if he had gone with him, would it have really made a difference? If it had not been this time, when would it have been? While having lunch with Pumbaa and himself, out for ice cream with the girls, Xion and Naminé? Zira would strike any chance she could get. He… couldn’t protect him from her. He couldn’t protect anyone.

The meerkat took in a deep breath and looked up at Pumbaa again, exhaling slowly. “He’s gonna be okay. Simba’s gonna be okay… But that crazy chick everybody’s been talkin’ about, Zira…” She would be looking for him.

Pumbaa couldn't do anything but watch with a sad look on his face as Timon reacted to what had happened. He wanted to give his friend a hug, but right as he started to move closer Timon looked even more sad than before. It took the warthog a moment to decide, but he pulled Timon in for a big, squeezing tight hug.

"Oh Timon, I was so worried that you'd gotten hurt too! I'm so glad that at least you're okay!" he wailed. Finally he let go and put on the biggest smile he could. Right now...that smile wasn't very big at all, and it turned into a frown.

"Don't worry Timon, we've got all kinds of people here who could help Simba. We just have to make sure that he doesn't go out on his own anymore." The lion probably wouldn't like the idea, but there was no way they were letting him go out there if it was going to be that dangerous.

"What about Kovu and Kiara? Are they okay?" Pumbaa could see for himself that Simba was sleeping like a log, same as always, so he wasn't too worried about whether the big guy would be all right. But Kovu had always been too hard on himself about things...it was only right that he wondered how the kid was holding up. And poor Kiara...to have to be stuck in the middle of all this, and see her dad get so badly hurt...

The meerkat may not have shown protest his friends embrace but his body certainly did. His joints creaked in pain and limbs twitched with a clear dislike of the pressure they were under. Was there no such thing as a gentle hug with Pumbaa? Honestly, the warthog seemed to put his heart into just about everything. And if Timon could breathe, he would find the act almost comforting. But the thought alone would suffice for now. He patted his friends arm to assure him he was alright… at least, as close as he got to it in the warthogs tight grip.

Once he was released he made no effort to leave the warthogs side. Instead, Timon leaned against him, his forehead resting again the warthog’s stomach while he looked down at the ground. “What’s the point?” he said in defeat. “Alone or with us, he could still get hurt. That chick’ll be after ‘em regardless who he’s with. Besides, even if she weren’t around… Something could still happen to him. He could still get hurt. If not here, back in the jungle...” They couldn’t protect him forever. There were things out there bigger than the both of them, things they could not prevent and it was a reality that was coming to Timon all too quickly. “Simba wouldn’t want us followin’ him around all the time anyway.” He added.

“The kids are okay. I mean, I think they’re okay. Kiara’s… Well, you know. And Kovu ain’t shown his face since he arrived. Kiara’s out there talking with him now.”

"But Timon, Simba and Kovu are both really strong! I bet if they always go out together they'll have nothing to worry about." The warthog's joviality belied just how worried he was, but he wasn't going to show that when Timon was already feeling like this. The feeling would pass, and then the three of them could all go out and look at the stars again or something. And they'd make sure to be close to somewhere Kovu was in case Zira showed up.

"Simba wasn't doing so hot when we first met him, either," Pumbaa added. There was a beat, then Pumbaa's face screwed up. "Why would Kovu hide his face?"

Timon tsked in response to Pumbaa’s suggestion. He doubted finding Simba a babysitter was really the solution to their problem, at least not a long term one. Simba wouldn’t want it and Kovu should have never been forced to fight his mother in the first place. Regardless how much dislike the lion may have held against Zira, she was still his mother. To have had to of fought her could not have been easy. Timon had no intention in making him do it again.

“Simba was just a cub.” The meerkat said, thinking back to that fateful day. “The only thing threatening him then was a bunch of buzzards. We’re talkin’ about a full grown lion here. It’s different.” They didn’t have to catch him from falling off the waterfall or pull out thorns he’d caught in his paws. The environment itself, that wasn’t too difficult to protect him from but from the other animals out there? That was an entirely different story. Even if they didn’t have to worry about Zira there was still Scar, Lightening, the Organization… Timon sighed.

“It’s an expression.” He told the warthog, by no means hiding his exasperation. “I mean I haven’t seen him since they brought Simba home. He went outside to mope or whatever it is lions do.” Timon pulled away from Pumbaa and looked up at him through a frown. “I’m sure not gonna bother him. What if he’s still got some of that adrenaline runnin’ through him, huh? Besides,” his attention wandered back to Simba. “I can’t leave him when like this.”

"Gee, I don't think Kovu would wanna hurt you..."

Pumbaa's eyes followed Timon's over to Simba's slumbering form. The lion's chest rose and fell peacefully. For all Pumbaa could tell, Simba had never been hurt at all. But the big guy did seem a lot more tense than normal. He looked out at the balcony, and saw Kovu and Kiara. He couldn't tell if they were awake or not, though, they weren't really moving much.

"...Should we wake him up?"

That hadn’t been what Timon meant but he made no effort to correct the warthog. He had used the last of his patients with Kiara when he’d put up a strong front. Kovu was surely just as stressed and with shorter fuses between both Kovu and himself, one was likely to bite the others head off. Timon didn’t want to talk to him. He didn’t want to talk Kiara. And part of him only wanted to bury himself in Pumbaa’s embrace and hide there in wait of Simba’s awakening. Maybe by then everything would somehow fix itself and be nothing but forgotten problems of the past.

“Nah, it’s probably better he rests.” He replied, seating himself on the ground. Simba was probably in a better place in his dreams than he would find himself here when he awoke. “Maybe he’ll actually get a good night’s sleep.” Pumbaa may not have been woken by Simba’s nightmares but Timon had more than enough to recognize the distinct lack of sleep the lion got some nights.

Pulling his knees close, the meerkat crossed his arms over them and buried his face in the small crook he’d produced. A sigh escaped him, as well a series of mutters before he fell silent. After a moment, his small form began to tremble, Timon finally allowing the waterworks to run.

“Why is this happening?” he choked out, not really expecting an answer. He’d waited forever for his friends to arrive and for what? Just to see them get hurt? “It’s not fair.” Bad things were happening and there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t turn his back on the world, this world, he had to sit and watch.

Simba stirred and mumbled a bit in his sleep before a small grin spread across his muzzle. Most of his dreams lately hadn't been good, but at least this one was an exception. He flexed his paws, his claws extending and retracting.

There was a small problem with Simba's resting spot. The couch was obviously made for humans, and Simba was quite a bit bigger than them. He rolled over in his sleep...

THUMP

...and landed on the floor. His eyes flickered open and his grin faded. Why couldn't he really be surrounded by bug-shaped sticks of ice cream?

The lion still felt to tired to move much, so he remained on his back and tilted his head to see Timon and Pumbaa. "Morning." He yawned and flexed his paws again. He wasn't in much pain, though he still felt achy and stiff. Having just woken up, he was still quite oblivious to the heavy atmosphere in the room as well. "Is it too late for breakfast?"

Instantly, everything that Timon had just said disappeared from Pumbaa's mind. "Ooh, Timon! He's awake!" The warthog had his characteristic huge grin, especially in the wake of what he'd just been talking about with Timon.

"How're you feeling, Simba?" he asked, leaning right over the lion's head without a care in the world. Simba's morning breath had never bothered Pumbaa as much as it had Timon, so it didn't make any difference to the warthog that he was now getting a face full of it.

Simba could not have woken at a worse time. Timon was by no means prepared and worked himself up to the extent hiding it would be difficult. Calming down would take moment, his red eyes even longer to rid the evidence of stress. But it didn’t matter when he heard Simba’s large body hit the ground, the sound more than enough to get the meerkats attention. His head shot up, wide eyes immediately focused on Simba. However, the worry he had felt quickly changed to relief upon hearing the lion’s words, Simba appearing to be his normal old self. Breakfast, oi! Of course that’d be the first thing he’d think of.

“Ah- no.” the meerkat replied, quickly turning away from the lion. He scratched his head, attempting to hide the tears he now struggled to choke back. His voice remained just as shaky as it had moments before, making it sound as though he had been caught off guard. “I’ll, er, see if I can whip up somethin’.” By no means was Timon a cook, certainly not after he had set the toaster on fire, but he did not see himself being nearly as bad Vyers. Besides, there were more than enough scraps in the fridge that he could use to put at least something together. “The last thing you need is food poisoning.” He added before scurrying off.

But just when it looked as though he had left, the lion would find himself the recipient of a good thwack in the head from the meerkat who had seemingly appeared again from thin air. “That’s for makin’ me worried sick!” Timon scolded him, paws found planted firmly to his hips as he frowned up at him. He held that pose for a moment, his dark eyes looking deeply into Simba’s before he suddenly took hold of lion’s mane and buried himself in it. There was no spoken explanation behind his embrace, but there didn’t need to be. The action spoke louder than words ever could.

"Hi Pumbaa." Simba didn't bother rolling on his stomach. He didn't know who had come to heal him or how they did it, but he kind of felt like he was made of earth worms now. Even the warthog's breath didn't convince him to move.

Timon? Making breakfast? That was new, but certainly favorable. "Great. I'm star-"

Simba looked back at the meerkat, stunned at the sudden outburst. He didn't know what to say, and right when the word 'sorry' was filtering from his head to his mouth, Timon suddenly dove into his mane. Simba took this moment to (carefully) roll over on his stomach and comb the little guy from his mane before returning the embrace. (Once again, carefully.) "Sorry, guys."

The nice dream was now forgotten, and breakfast would have been too if Simba's stomach didn't just grumble loudly. Knowing Timon, Simba was sure that he had stayed up all night. Pumbaa might have too, though he didn't look it. There wasn't any signs of tiredness in the warthog's eyes.

"I guess I'm gonna get a bunch of lectures today, huh?" He loosened his hold on Timon and looked down, giving him a sheepish grin. Not only would Timon not likely let him live it down today, but he also had Kiara to worry about. More than likely, he'd hear from Nala about it too.

Pumbaa was so glad that Simba was okay. He'd never seen Timon like this before...nothing that had ever happened to them had ever made him so upset before.

"It's not your fault, Simba," he said reassuringly. The warthog joined in the gentle embrace, squeezing tighter around Simba than Timon since he knew the lion could take it. And Hakuna Matata or not, hearing what Timon had said happened had gotten Pumbaa really worried too.

"We're just glad you're all right." He poked Timon lightly in the ribs to get the meerkat to affirm the statement, especially after whacking Simba like he just did.

At the moment, Timon was too relieved to see Simba awake and well to really yell at him. He had yet to even decide who he was upset with more: Simba, himself, or this world in general. After the events that had taken place, Timon really wasn’t sure what to do, even when it came down to where to direct his anger. He had hoped his discussion with the warthog would have helped but in the end it had proved to have done nothing but make Pumbaa worried about him. It looked like he’d have to figure this out on his own… Being the brains of the outfit really sucked sometimes.

Having been poked by Pumbaa, the meerkat frowned at the warthog in return. “What?” He snapped, immediately smoothening out the fur in the spot his friend had touched him. “He knows that!” Simba knew better than anyone how much Timon worried about him. He probably hated it more than anyone too.

Simba chuckled at Timon's outburst. It was nice they didn't worry so much that they couldn't be themselves, though the fact that they did worry was pretty bothersome. He was grown lion, damnit, and even though he did come out of that fight a lot worse than he should have, he was still alive. If it were the other two, they wouldn't have survived at all!

His stomach grumbled loudly again. "The only thing I'm worried about now is food. Weren't you going to get breakfast?" He lightly poked Timon in the opposite side Pumbaa had nudged. If Timon was going to worry over him like he was still a cub, then he'd act like one. Simba gave Timon a big, toothy grin, imitating what a child would pull when pleading with a parent for something.

Pumbaa matched Simba's grin. "You did say you would, Timon," he added, trying to get the meerkat to give in and go find something for them all to eat. "And you know it's not very nice to go back on a promise, especially when that promise has something to do with food."

He wasn't sure it would work this time, but all he really had to do was keep trying, and eventually Timon would just get fed up with it and go get something for them all to eat anyway. Pumbaa had it all worked out.

...Of course, the sad eyes couldn't hurt, could they?

Simba was met with an equally, if not a little more so, look of frustration as Pumbaa had when he had his turn at poking him. Again, the neurotic meerkat instantly fixed the area fur his friend had brushed out of place and moved back a distance he hoped would keep him safe from further poking. Their words, however, were another story. They way they had begun double teaming on him like this just was not fair, especially when they both expected a meal out of him.

“Yeah, yeah!” he replied and waved his paws at them, as though to push their words away from him. “I’ll see what I can do. But don’t expect this to become a regular thing.” The meerkat then turned to Pumbaa, expecting him to follow him to the kitchen. It was there he paused, catching sight of the look in his friend’s eyes. His expression softened. “C’mon, pal.” He said warmly, gesturing for the warthog to follow. “We’ll put a ton of that whipped cream stuff you like on your waffles. Just make sure you don't eat it all before we can put it on the others.”

Simba tried to follow, but his legs were still jelly-like. He decided it's be best if he just stayed on the floor. "Remember to leave of that stuff for me too, Pumbaa!"

And Simba was left in the living room alone. We frowned a bit, as waiting for his food out here would feel a lot longer than if he was in the kitchen ~~trying to help out. Simba laid his head down on one of his paws, and with the other, he drummed the floor, trying to think of something other than his stomach.~~

"Oo, can we put some of those little red berries on them too?" The idea made Pumbaa very excited. He looked back at his lion buddy when Simba asked him to save some of the whipped cream. "Okay Simba!" Pumbaa answered with a big smile. He followed Timon into the kitchen, and stood next to the cabinets so the meerkat could use him to climb up on the counter.

If Simba had wanted a distraction, he wouldn't have to wait long. A few paw scrapes later, the door to the balcony was nudged open, and Kiara stepped into the room, Kovu likely not far behind her.

She hadn't exactly had the best of sleeps that night, and looked half awake at first to prove it. The sleepiness, however, quickly vanished when she realized who was laying on the floor with his eyes open.

"You're awake!" she said with a gasp, bounding towards her father, almost like an excited cub.

She came to a stop before him, rather seeming like she would have liked to have embraced him, but she didn't. Kiara instead did her best to reign in her excitement of seeing him awake. The scent of blood still lingered, but none of it fresh, which was a relief, but not as much as seeing him awake.

"How're you feeling?"

Kovu was slow to follow Kiara, head hung low. He didn't want Simba to see the scar and think of his uncle, not after what had just happened with Zira the night before. Not that there was really anything Kovu could do about it. Simba would see what had happened eventually.

The black-maned lion smiled when Kiara almost pounced her dad like a cub would, and couldn't help but laugh a little at how excited she was to see him okay. Timon and Pumbaa were nowhere in sight, though it smelled like they had just been here--the warthog's scent wasn't exactly easy to miss. Kovu couldn't smell any fresh blood on Simba either, which meant that he really was all right now.

Still...Kovu hung back. This was their moment as father and daughter. He had no right to be part of it.

Simba's smile returned. "Hey, Kiara." He gave her a sheepish grin. "I'm ok. Just hungry really....and, well, my legs kind of feel like they've been replaced with grubs." Simba couldn't tell if it was from the fact he lost so much blood or if he was just hungry. Either way, food was sure to help at least a little.

He would have asked Kiara if she was ok too, but the beaming face in front of him answered that question. "Uh...sorry...if I worried you." Once again, he was expecting a lecture or something.

He glanced at Kovu, who had come in to his periphery vision, and tilted his head, giving him a concerned look. He hadn't forgotten that Kovu had saved him, and he also hadn't forgotten that he had had to fight his mother to do so. "Hey, Kovu. You ok?

Simba had nothing to fear, however, no lecture would come. Not out of Kiara, at any rate. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize," she said, blinking a bit at him apologizing to her. There was really no need. "I'm just glad you're alright."

And that was putting it lightly.

"Just rest up. I'm sure you'll be feeling good as new, soon!"

Kiara then glanced behind her to Kovu, and gave him an encouraging look, hoping he'd at least try to speak to her father.

That look from Kiara didn't keep Kovu from grimacing. "Yeah..." he lied. "I'm...just fine." He turned his head a bit to the left, to make sure that Simba would have an even harder time of seeing the wound that was slowly starting to scar over.

"I'm...glad to see you're feeling better." He felt guilty, lying like this, especially when Kiara knew what was wrong, but...she understood, right? That Kovu didn't want Simba to think of Scar?

But...Kovu knew, even as he was thinking that, that it wasn't for Simba's sake he was trying to hide.

"Thanks."

Simba's stomach growled. Where were Timon and Pumbaa with his waffles? Sure, they weren't his servants or anything, but his legs still wouldn't work. He glanced back to the kitchen, hearing the commotion the warthog and meerkat made as they were most likely destroying Vyers' kitchen. "Maybe asking those two to make breakfast wasn't a good idea." It was a feeble attempt to lighten the mood a bit, but he had to try something.

"Making breakfast...?" Kiara echoed, trailing off as she glanced in the direction of the commotion. Uh oh. Kiara wasn't sure what 'making breakfast' entailed, but had a hunch this wasn't going to be pretty. Humans seemed to keep their homes very, well, clean. The noises she was hearing sounded like a meerkat and a warthog making a mess; a huge one.

"Um... I have a bad feeling about this," she said, after a moment, kind of nervous now.

Kovu raised his head without paying attention, ears swiveling toward the source of all the noise down the hallway. "Do they even know how to use all the stuff in there?" He sounded rather doubtful.

If Simba were to look back at Kovu, the wound was right there for him to see now.

Simba turned back to Kovu, noticing the scar. He blinked a bit in surprise, but he was able to shake most of that away. "Heh, probably not." Well, this was awkward. Kovu had the same eyes and fur pattern as Scar, and now he had a scar over his eye to match. It looked like no matter what either of them did, that damned lion would keep bothing them in one way or another.

Given the sounds she was hearing from the kitchen... "I don't think that's a probably," she added, cringing slightly at the sound of something hitting the kitchen floor.

She definitely had a hunch someone wasn't going to be happy when they saw the state of that place.

Simba got a surprised blink in return. Well...if he wasn't going to mention it, then Kovu wasn't either. He tried to say something, but had to sigh first. Having Simba just choose to ignore the scar like that was a big relief, especially after he'd been so worried about it.

A loud crash made him flinch. "Should we check on them or something?

Simba winced at the loud clangings of God-knows-what that was going on in the kitchen. "Yeah, I think so."

Simba tried to get back on his feet again. His legs were still like scared worms, but he seemed able to stand for the moment.

“I can hear you, you know.” Timon said as he joined the group once again. There was some batter on him, but not nearly as much as anyone would have expected after hearing the sounds of chaos in the next room. He noted it immediately and frowned, mumbling to himself something along the lines of ‘missed a spot.’ But he could not wipe it off with both his hands required to hold the large plate of waffles he had carried out, a perfect swirl of whipped cream on top of the stack. Surprisingly, they looked good, to say nothing of the mouth-watering smell. Somehow, he’d pulled it off. … With Pumbaa’s help. A little.

“There was a minor problem during the plating process but we worked out the kinks. Sit down, take a load off. First batch is yours, pal.” The meerkat nodded to Simba and placed the plate down in front of him before he hollered back to the kitchen. “Oi, Pumbaa! What’s the big idea, leavin’ me with all these hungry lions in here, huh? Hurry up in there!” While Timon could only carry one plate, Pumbaa could hold a lot more on both his head and back. Because of this, he had left the rest with his friend. “And try not to break anymore.” The kitchen was a big enough mess before they had started dropping plates.

"I'm comin'!" the warthog yelled. "It's not nice to yell at someone when they're trying to carry so may plates Timon. You could've scared me and I might have dropped all of them, and then we'd have to make the waffles all over again because they would've fallen on the floor."

The entire time he was talking, Pumbaa was trotting down the hallway carrying plates of waffles on his back, his head, and his snout, all of which were dangerously full and even more dangerously close to falling off.

"Uh...Timon? Do you think you could help me with these...?"

Whoops. Over all that noise, Kiara was rather surprised they'd actually heard them in there, but she still rather strongly suspected they'd made a mess in there. One that someone would not be happy about.

But, wow, they'd been busy, though Kiara wasn't certain exactly the square items Timon and Pumbaa were carrying were

"What are they?" she asked, very curious now. The smell was like nothing she'd ever really experienced.

Kovu's nose twitched at the smell of the food, whatever it was. He'd never seen anything like that before...how did they even know it was edible? These were guys who ate bugs. All three of them were.

"There aren't any bugs in it, right?" He felt the need to ask before he learned about any "special surprises" their "chefs" decided to put in. He was suspicious enough of the food they were offering anyway.

Simba had already inhaled a waffle. If no one knew any better, they probably would have fled from his shouting 'RABIES!!!' for all the whipped cream that was around his muzzle. He licked his chops.

"I think they're called 'waffles.' And there aren't any bugs in it." He grinned at Kiara and Kovu before devouring the rest of his breakfast. Delicious!

Timon returned to Pumbaa’s side and removed a plate from the warthog, issuing it to Kiara before he ran back to grab Kovu’s. “Just trust us, would yeah? You’ll love ‘em. They’re the chefs – yours truly- special. No food additives, preservatives,” he grinned at Kovu and lowered the plate in front of the lion. “or bugs.” However, Timon’s grip on the plate itself seemed to slip, causing him to drop it in front of the lion rather than place it there as he had for the others. The plate made a loud clanking sound that echoed throughout the room though thankfully had not been nearly far enough from the ground to break. Meanwhile, Timon’s eyes were wide, focused on the fresh scar over the lion’s eye. That scar. He knew that scar. It was the very same scar that…

“Oops!” The meerkat gave a nervous laugh and diverted his eyes from Kovu’s. “Ah, little heavier than it looks.” He quickly moved away from Kovu and took the final plate off Pumbaa’s back, placing it down in front of the warthog. “That or I still got some of that butter on my paws.” Timon smiled up at Pumbaa and gestured to their plate. “Alright, pal. Dig in!”

Edited 2011-07-06 05:47 (UTC)

Pumbaa was beaming the whole time, especially when Simba scarfed down "We worked really hard so that all the waffles were as yummy as we could possibly make 'em! That's why it took so long."

He didn't really notice why Timon dropped the plate, because he was too busy being happy that Simba was eating, and grinning when he licked his chops. Moments later, he was too busy devouring his own waffles, making whipped cream fly everywhere.

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