Timon looked far from impressed by the demons determination to keep Laharl’s secret just that: a secret. It was just as much his right to know as anyone else who lived in that apartment. And though he could not tell what exactly had been going on, it certainly seemed big. He made it very clear that he did not agree with the demons decision. The idea of waiting was absurd, especially when any one of them could vanish without warning. However, it did not seem as though Timon had much of a choice. He did not like being left in the dark, but a part of him could see reason to his friend’s action. As a father, he could only suspect Krichevskoy of protecting his son. He had been no different with Simba.

“I hear it helps when your kid ain’t a cactus.” He joked lamely. “I didn’t hear anything but you should probably watch what you say over the journals. You know, same old stuff.” Timon looked around the restaurant, curious as to where their server was. “You never know who’s listening these days.”

The meerkat shifted uncomfortably at the subject of recent disappearances. He had yet to come to grips with the loss of so many he had cared for, much less talk about them. “I don’t know.” He replied, something he had become too accustom to saying as of late. “It just ain’t sittin’ right, like a bad bug.” Timon rubbed his stomach, oblivious to just how much further the feeling went beyond bugs. “Talk about some nasty JuJu vibes.”