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.