Fan Fiction by Lucki Starz, aka Laura
Scar shoved an antelope skull out of his way. It tumbled down a deep gorge, cracking on contact when it slammed into the stone ground.
Scar was angry. Mufasa, his older brother, had showed off as usual. And, as usual, their parents were extremely proud of Mufasa, the future king. Just thinking of Mufasa on a throne made Scar gag.
Scar sat on his hunches. He had gone hunting with the pride for the first time. And, even though it was his FIRST hunt, Mufasa hadn’t cut him any slack. Mufasa had caught seven antelope. Seven! Scar only managed to tackle down two, and one got away.
Scar twitches his whiskers. Something was not right. His anger melted into worry as he rose, standing up tall to see over the horizon. Something was wrong. Scar leapt down from his ledge and hurried off.
Scar soon came to the outlands. He knew he was forbidden to voyage here, and would be in severe trouble if he didn’t stay in the Pride Lands. But he knew he had to go over the log bridge to the Outlands. Someone needed him. He didn’t know who, but he was needed.
Scar wasted no time. He extended his paws and tail; he dug his claws into the earth, sniffing and running, trying to find the one who needed him. He didn’t want to waste time. He sped up.
Meanwhile, in the Pride Lands, Mufasa was basking in the sunlight. Sarabi was beside him, curled up and asleep. The rest of the pride was sprawled off on the rocks of Pride Rock, asleep or drowsy, tired from the hunt. No one noticed Scar was not among them. After all, he was a runt. The king and queen would have noticed, but they had been asleep when he ran off.
Scar soon came across the one in trouble. It was a lioness, a teenager like him, and her hind paw was entangled in thorns and quicksand. She was out cold.
Scar pulled the bloody thorns out of the lioness’s paw, and still she did not stir. He dug into the quicksand and dislodged her paw. He picked it up in his mouth and laid it on the earth beside her. He licked the bloody wounds, and then sat down beside her. Now she stirred.
“Who are you?” she asked. “What happened?”
“You were, um…a little tied up and knocked out.” Scar explained.
“So you…you rescued me?” asked the lioness.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Scar nodded.
“Well, um, thanks.”
Scar, who had never been in love before, felt weird. He didn’t know what to do. He got up, but his feet were awkward and he tripped. The lioness giggled.
Scar smiled sheepishly and plucked a wilted flower from the dead grass. He gave it to the lioness and she smiled.
“You’re really pretty when you smile” thought Scar.
“I’m Zira,” the lioness Zira said.
“I’m Scar.” Scar told her.
They smiled awkwardly at each other. Then, without warning, a big, black mane lion jumped out from behind a bush, roaring. His paws were the size of Scar’s head. Scar shuddered.
And then, from the clearing, pounced Scar’s father, mother, and Mufasa. They roared and crouched, ready to fight. Scar’s father moved in front of him.
“Aris,” the father said sternly. “You will excuse my son. We will leave you to the outlands. Come, Mufasa, Scar…”
Scar tucked his tail between his legs and whispered good-bye to Zira. She nodded and followed her father, Aris, into the trees.
The walk to the Pride Lands was silent. As usual, Scar walked behind Mufasa. Scar wished he hadn’t been found, wished he could be back in the Outlands with Zira.
By the time they had reached Pride Rock, the stars were out. All of the lionesses were asleep in the den. Mufasa and his mother joined them. The father, however, sat under the stars with Scar.
“Scar…” He whispered sadly. Scar looked up at his big strong father. “Scar, why’d you go?”
Scar shook his short pre-mane. “Dad,” he said. “I was needed. She needed me.” Scar’s ears folded back as he spoke of Zira.
Scar’s father nodded. “But Scar, it is not your duty to look after the Outlanders. Your responsibility is here, with your pride.
Scar, you mustn’t forget your destiny. Remember, look to the stars. The great kings of the-“
Scar interrupted his father abruptly. “They’re dead, Dad,” Scar exclaimed sourly. He stared down at his paws.
“But they live in us, Scar. And some day, you may become king.”
Scar grew even angrier at this statement. Every time his father talked to Mufasa like this, it was always “And some day, you will become king.” But no, for Scar, he was just an understudy. And he was tired of it.
Scar directed his gaze back to the king. He swished his tail and whispered, “Dad, I think…I love her.” Scar’s face glowed pink.
The king roared. “No, Scar, you must not think of that Zita girl of
“It’s Zira, dad.” Scar corrected him gloomily.
“You will find a wife like Sarabi,” the king said.
“You always want me to be like Mufasa. Always perfect Mufasa! He can hunt, he will be king, he’s stronger, braver, whatever. I’m just the extra cub, the one who is the assistant for Mufasa, the big brave king! Well, I’m tired of not being needed. I will go where I am needed.” And with that, Scar ran towards the outlands. He left his father, with his jaw wide open in disbelief, he ran from his mother, whose tears dropped silently on the rock, and he escaped from Mufasa, who looked at Scar, eyes wide in disbelief at what he had just witnessed.
Scar was halfway to the outlands when he found Zira. She too had come to find him. The greeted each other in joy and Scar finally felt needed. He knew, though, that he could only hide with Zira so long before his father found him, but he would do his best. Finally, Scar was needed.
”And finally” thought Zira, “I am needed.”