"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.