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Good day, dear readers! Bugs46 from InkBunny commissioned me to write a Lion King story, this time with a little more flair. Simba and Nala are not their usual feisty, feral selves, but anthros who are equally playful, brave, and a wee bit reckless. While enjoying their usual games, the two cubs stray away into unknown territory where their abilities to fend off for themselves are tested. Want more? Then you'll have to read the whole story. Enjoy, and keep in mind that this is a clean work! There may be references to genitals, but they are kept in good taste and nothing is graphic. Last but not least, I kindly ask you to take into account my following requests. It's just the press of a button, literally :P

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***Story starts here***

Simba leaned against the rough trunk of the burnt ebony tree, stomping his foot on the parched, dusty ground. He checked his watched, sighed, and stomped his foot harder and faster. Where was Nala?

"Late, of course," he muttered as he ruffled the tuft of messy fur on his forehead. "Always late. Is she even a lioness?" He snickered at the remark. Lionesses were never tardy with their chores. They did everything in a timely fashion.

Except for Nala, of course. For a cub her age, Nala was small and lithe, with soft features that contrasted with her sharp voice. She sounded more like a male, and acted like one during their wrestling bouts. Simba blushed as he remembered Nala's paw pressed against his male parts, an elegant smirk spread across her pale muzzle.

"She didn't win that one, I did," he whispered to himself. "Only sore losers resort to cheap shots to win."

Simba checked his watch again, then removed his slim, red leather jacket, folded it and slung it across his shoulder. The irritating sun of high noon bore down upon him with all its might, and the burnt ebony tree had no leaves to cast blessed shade upon the ground. Only frail twigs, burnt and cracked.

He considered removing his cotton T-shirt for more relief when her faint perfume tickled Simba's nostrils.

"I only had to wait one hour out here, all by myself."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of dried mud and a couple of birds flying around," Nala's voice came from behind one of the many kopje littering the area. Simba turned towards one such formation, too tall and broad for him to glimpse Nala.

"I'm too bored to be afraid, Nala. Bored enough to simply go home and call it a day," he taunted her.

As expected, Nala leaped into the open from the safety of the kopje, sporting a genuine smile. "Go home then, little prince. I'll take the points for all three games we were supposed to play today."

Simba stiffened at that. "Five games, and the loser gives up something he wears."

Nala shrugged. "Might as well give me your jacket now," she purred. "I'll make sure it stays clean, unlike last time."

"I stumbled," Simba retorted.

"Nuh uh, you tripped and you fell into the only puddle that my eyes could see."

"Because you shoved me!"

Nala wiggled a finger. "Nope, I tagged you."

"Is that what you lionesses call shoving?"

"Come by our den and find out," Nala teased.

What an infuriating brat! Simba gritted his teeth to suppress a growl as Nala strolled towards him with practiced nonchalance. She wore a thin, light green blouse that emphasized her striking gaze, and loose jeans fastened with a dark leather belt. Neither of the cubs wore shoes. Simba had tried them once and almost fell off Pride Rock when he slipped, his claws unable to poke out through the tough material.

"As if I'd fall for that," Simba shrugged away from Nala's grip when her paw landed upon his shoulder. "It's easier to break free from the dungeons underneath Pride Rock than escape your mother's clutches."

Nala released a soft chuckle before throwing Simba a curt glance. "Thank you for forgiving my tardiness."

"I never forgive." He lunged towards Nala, tapped her shoulder. "You're it!" he yelled before breaking off into a maladroit dash between the kopje littering the uneven plains.

"That's so unfair I won't even play," Nala replied.

Simba didn't slow down. Nala's scent, sweet and alluring, still filled his nostrils, betraying her proximity. Unable to hear her footsteps or catch as much as a glimpse of her, Simba meandered around the kopje, keeping to the left of the dried gorge sprawling to one side. The ground beneath his paws grew coarse and ragged and ruddy, devoid of grass or any other plants.

He stopped behind a dirt mound to catch his breath for a moment, his paws latched onto his knees. Where was Nala? Her scent was gone, replaced by the dusty tang of the arid wasteland. It urged him to sneeze and rub his nose.

"You're it!"

Simba yelped and whirled to swipe his paw at the light touch on his shoulder. Nala lunged back with surprising dexterity, her eyes narrow.

"You could've raked my arm with your claws you bloody idiot!"

"Be glad I didn't," Simba said. "Next time I'll make sure I do if you take me by surprise again."

"So now it's my fault that I managed to sneak up on you, like the game encourages us to do?"

Simba smiled wryly at that. "You didn't sneak up on me. I allowed you to catch up, least before you somehow got lost among the kopje, like you always do."

"Says the one who left the game area." She looked around the dry desolation around them and wrapped her arms across her chest. "Thought we agreed to stick to the grassy parts."

Simba shrugged. "I don't remember that." He tapped her shoulder, spoke the customary words and bounded off down a treacherous slope that descended into the gorge.

"Why go there, imbecile? What if you can't clamber back up?" Nala's yell came from above, loud and satisfying. Simba's senses tingled with rebellious joy at the prospect of venturing into the unknown, where Nala feared to tread. He chanced a look back at her, and his smile broadened at the young lioness that rode a wave of pebbles downhill.

Clumsy her, Simba thought, yet his claws thrust out of his stiff feet out of their own accord. His body stiffened all of a sudden, and a pit formed in his stomach when a distressed yowl left Nala's scrunched muzzle. Simba skidded to a stop, spun to face Nala and lunged in her direction to catch her swaying body. They both crashed to the ground, with Simba atop her, his eyes closed against the thick curtain of dust. He clawed at the slant for purchase, thrust his toes into the shifting pebbles, gritted his teeth and held his breath for the span of their slide to the bottom of the gorge.

As soon as they stopped, Nala drew in a gasp of relief.

Or so Simba thought. He growled as she drove all of her paws into his chest and thighs, knocking him to the side and off her. He stumbled for purchase on the shifting, uneven ground during the short time it took Nala to get onto her feet, stop in front of him and point a condemning finger at his crotch.

A cold shudder crept through him at her raised foot. "I should kick you there for your stupidity."

"Go right ahead," Simba hissed. "Saving you from biting the dust was mighty stupid."

She put down her foot and let out a trembling sigh. "I didn't need saving. I had it all along."

"That's why you wobbled worse than my father in the morning?"

They shared a curt, frail laughter. Nala stretched out her paw for Simba, but he shook his head and pushed himself onto his feet. "I wasn't stupid. I was being gallant," he muttered.

Nala's squeaking laughter flared at that. "You? Gallant?" She clutched her tummy to keep from tripping over while Simba scrutinized the Sleeping Gorge. Boulders of all sizes, huge and small, filled the meandering corridor. They varied in color as much as they differed in patterns. The darker ones bore crystalline stripes that sparkled under the sun's glare, while the lighter colored boulders flaunted thick, dark splotches. Foul smells wafted through the gorge, so stale and pungent Simba swallowed hard to keep from gagging.

Nala's fit echoed off the sea of stones surrounding them, spreading through the labyrinthine depths like a tide.

"Shut up," he urged.

She didn't. Not until Simba had an arm wrapped around her slender chest and a paw latched around her muzzle. She stopped for the brief moment it took her elbow to land against his stomach. Simba stumbled back, and Nala smirked.

"Don't tell me to shut up. You're too gallant for that."

"Fine. Keep quiet."

As soon as Nala's mirth subsided, her eyes grew to the size of berries when she realized the cause of Simba's distress. "Are those..."

"Yes, they're bones," Simba said as he bent over a small ribcage. He tapped it with an outstretched claw and turned towards Nala. "A calf probably. Got separated from the herd, lost its way and never made it out of the gorge by itself."

"Creepy, but still less creepy than this!" Nala emphasized by spreading her arms to encompass the whole wide gorge. "What about those bones here, and there? And between those jagged rocks and past that huge banana shaped boulder?" Her jittery gaze settled on Simba. "Those are bigger, so definitely not calves. Did they all get separated from the herd?"

Simba shrugged. "I don't know." When that failed to put Nala at ease, he kicked the ribcage away. She tensed up, and Simba cocked his head to the right. "They're old bones Nala, nothing more. Water carries stuff across a surface bigger than the Pridelands themselves. They end up here in the Sleeping Gorge, because of the boulders." He trotted up to a pile of bones rested at the base of a square shaped rocky formation. "See? For all we know, these bones don't belong to any being that prowls the Pridelands."

She still looked around, her fingers drumming against her arms. "It still unsettles me, and this stench is infuriating." Her slim, pink tongue darted across her nose several times, as if it could filter away the foul tinge.

"That's the only drawback of the Sleeping Gorge, but look around Nala! Tell me this isn't the best place for hide and seek. I dare you."

Her frown didn't share any of Simba's enthusiasm. "The kopje worked fine, as did the grass beneath our paws."

"Grass, kopje, safety first, keep away from danger," Simba drawled with a graver voice. "You sound like my father."

Nala rolled her eyes and sighed. "Why do you always go against his word? Half sliding, half stumbling into this gorge isn't bravery. It's stupidity at its finest."

"Don't start Nala," Simba said as he took a step towards her. She took a step back and shook her head. "Come on. If it was up to him, we'd never even step into the grass for fear of stomping a snake by accident." He increased his pace to catch up to Nala and grabbed her wan paw between his tan ones. "Precautious is good, but I prefer fun bound with a slim thread of excitement."

"You mean danger." Nala looked up from their joined paws to Simba. "Why do I even like you?"

"Because I'm handsome?" Simba added with a sly smile.

"So handsome you have to flatter yourself." She wriggled out of his grip to explore the Sleeping Gorge. "Are you sure it's only us in here?"

"I'll give you my red jacket if you hear as much as a caw."

Nala squinted at his quip, and Simba took it as his cue to turn his back to her, prop his arms against a boulder and rest his forehead against them. Then, he began counting.

"What are you--"

"Five, six, seven," Simba interrupted Nala.

"This is downright ridiculous," she said.

"Ten, eleven."

"Simba, you're--you can't be serious! We don't even know this place!"

"Fifteen, sixteen, leather's jacket on the win, eighteen."

Nala groaned before the bitter patter of her footsteps faded into the permeating gloom of the Sleeping Gorge. The more Simba counted, the tauter his muscles became, until a cold snake slithered along his spine. He shivered at that, but kept his count with an increasingly lower voice until he reached the count of one hundred.

"Ready or not, here I come!" His roar came more like a high pitched scream, lost among the timeless rocks.

He shuffled through the immensity of the gorge, squatting and peeking and squinting at every nook and crevice where Nala could hide. Unlike the fresh air above, the musty one of the gorge blocked every trace of Nala's familiar perfume, leaving Simba to shift every rock, bone and wiggle between every cluster of boulders in search for his friend.

His paws balled into fists when his heart beats picked up to reflect the drop of panic tainting his courageous façade.

"Where are you, Nala? Not far," he whispered to muster his faltering bravery. "You're not the valiant explorer you claim to be, but a small kitten afraid of her own shadow."

Shadows. That's where she hid.

Simba sauntered along the right side of the gorge, where the boulders grew to the size of small hills. He kept to the shadows, not bothering to glance at the sun touched spots.

A snicker came from the opposite side of the Sleeping Gorge. Simba whirled towards it, arms upraised and a faint growl rippling in his throat. "Just an echo. She's not on that side. That's where she wants me to go, that devious lioness." Simba straightened up his jacket when a gust of foul wind chilled him. "Let's see how you react if I pretend to fall for your bluff."

He turned around...

And yelped when he bumped into Nala. They both staggered back, hissing and growling at each other until Nala's fingers dug into Simba's shoulders. "Tell me you heard that, and don't lie."

Simba squirmed, but her clutch tightened. "Hear what over the poor excuse you made to ruin the game?"

"The snicker!" Nara insisted with a persistent shake. "That wasn't mine!"

Simba's jaws clenched. He grabbed her wrists, squeezed her tight enough to make her hiss in pain and force her to let go of him. "Why should I even believe you?"

"Because she's cute as a button," a high pitched voice broke cut through the thick silence. "That's reason enough for me. What do you think, Foka?"

"I like the male. So small and lithe," Foka said, graver than his companion. "His shoulders are slight, yes, but he is in good shape, slim and moderately well-muscled. And look at how well his bright golden fur contrasts with his orange eyes and tan muzzle and paws!"

The two lion cubs yelped in unison as their arms found each other. Simba held Nala tight to his chest as his eyes raced across the broken landscape in search for these two. Hyenas, judging from their earthy, slightly sour scents. He snarled at that, urging Nala to do the same as they shuffled backwards, towards the edge of the gorge.

"Look at how they hold each other. Isn't that adorable, Kuta?"

"Not more so than the little lioness. She may look frail, but her snarl deceives you, right Foka?

His companion snickered in acknowledgment.

"Why is her fur colored a light tawny, while her muzzle, paws, and underbelly are all paler in contrast? Isn't that curious?"

"Curious indeed, Foka."

"Why don't you two weirdos step into the light so we can appreciate our admirers better?" Simba taunted with a high pitched shrill. He turned towards Nala, gave her a curt lick on the cheek and whispered into her ear. "Stay back, don't interfere, and let me handle them."

"Simba I don't think--"

Simba shoved her back and stepped in front of her, his claws out and a fierce snarl etched upon his muzzle.

"And how are you going to handle us, pray tell?" The first hyena who appeared from behind a boulder had thick eyebrows, accentuated by his bright yellow eyes and the mane of coal-black fur that ran down his shoulders. He wore a doeskin vest over a checkered, frayed shirt and an equally tattered pair of jeans that brought out his broad, meaty feet.

"I don't know, Foka," the second one said. "I have the feeling we are going to handle them." The second hyena appeared from the side, forcing the cubs to flee from the safety of the boulders and out into the open. He stood at least two feet taller than Simba, broad of back and shoulders, just like his companion. Unlike him, he had no mane over his light grey fur splotched with dark patches. Kuta only wore a vest identical to his companion over his bare chest. Traces of muscle rippled underneath his fur, all the way down to his khaki pants.

"What makes you think you can handle us?" Nala shot. She stepped up besides Simba, her spread claws ready to tear at the hyena's ugly faces.

Kuta's eyes fixated on Nala. "I have this feeling, deep beneath my layers of clothes." He thrust his hips forward to emphasize the small bulge of his groin. Nala yelped at that, and Simba swallowed hard.

"Good. The more of your malehood I can see, the better I know where to kick," Nala taunted.

Simba's gaze dashed to Foka, who split from his companion to circle Simba. "And you, ugly? Let me guess. You want my claws to carve you a better face."

Both of the hyenas snickered in unison. "They're delightful," their voices echoed off each other. "Let's have some fun."

"NALA RUN!" Simba yelled in the split moment it took the hyenas to pounce upon the two cubs. Simba lunged to the right, scrambled onto his fours for purchase and broke into a staggering dash towards the nook between two boulders. He chanced a look back, and his stomach sank when he saw a fleeting glimpse of Nala's pale fur shrinking into the distance.

I'll help her as soon as I deal with this freak, Simba thought.

*

Simba can handle his own, Nala thought over the steady pounding of her heart as she ran for her life. Every single one of Kuta's broad footsteps sent a shudder through her frame, urging her claws to come out and bite the soft pads of her palms. She winced at that, and Kuta giggled.

"Run fast, little one. Get me warmed up for what's to come."

Nara shrugged off his maddened ramblings. She dropped onto her fours to crawl under a corridor created by a cluster of boulders, and yelped when Kuta caught one of her feet. "Wiggle wiggle," he said as he traced a claw down her pads, urging her to sniffle and jerk her foot from his grip, but not before planting a kick on his arm.

"Feisty lass," Kuta growled. "You don't like your feet being tickled? Well, there are other soft spots I know of," he drawled.

"Like what?" Nala dared him after she made it out from under the boulders. She had to distract him. To keep his lust addled mind from guessing her escape alternatives.

"Your soft, beautiful belly for one. Your slender thighs, and the prize nestled between them. It must be so pink, so wet. And if not, I'll lick it enough until it's slippery and ready." His shadow passed by her as Kuta's sprint far outmatched hers. He appeared in front of her, a tall, grinning bastard who shuffled his paws expectantly.

Nala whimpered in distress as she skidded to a stop in front of him. She glanced right, towards a softening slope, then left, where an avalanche of boulders led up to a narrow ledge. "So, you really want to know what is between my thighs?" Her hoarse voice came over her ragged, panting breaths.

"Guess I'll have to see for myself." Kuta lunged forward, faster than Nala could blink. He fell upon her, a hulking mass of gray fur whose hands and feet pinned hers with surprising dexterity. Nala thrashed in his grip, squeaking and whimpering over Kuta's defiant snicker.

"Stop it, dear." He slammed her wrists against the ground and pressed the claws of his feet deeper into her footpads. Nala yowled, but kept thrashing. She'd rather die before she listened to his bastard! She spread her fingers for a broader reach, the claws of her thumbs drawing soft rakes across Kuta's meaty pads. His grin broadened at that, and his clutch turned so tight it became seething agony around Nala's wrists.

"Stop, or I'll give you a good reason to."

Nala gritted her teeth, then froze still.

"Thank you, dear," the hyena said with a dip of his head. "You'll like it too, I promise. Every female wants something to fill them down there, where it's empty and lonely."

Nala flinched as his muzzle inched closer towards hers. She twisted her head to the side, away from his foul breath, trying her hardest to contain her whimpers. She squeezed her eyes shut when tears threatened to spill, and she took fast, shuddering breaths to keep her body from caving in under the overwhelming fear rippling through her.

Keep calm, let him do his stuff, and kick him where it hurts. Only, she couldn't, not when his feet pressed against hers.

A rough tug, followed by a ripping sound, forced Nala's eyes to snap open. A curt whimper escaped her before she clenched her jaws, so tight they hurt. Kuta favored her a curt glance before he gripped more of her blouse between his sharp teeth. He tugged again, and again, until he ripped her blouse to shreds.

"You won't need these ugly sleeves anymore," he said as he let go of her wrists to lift her arms.

Hope welled within Nala's heart. It surged through her, urging her to claw out her assailant's face.

Not yet, Nala thought. Don't give him reason to suspect your plan.

She smiled wryly at Kuta while he slid the torn sleeves off Nala's arms. "I didn't like it anyway. Felt so stuffed inside in, on this hot weather."

"Because you're already blazing hot." His paws groped at her budding breasts while soft, throaty moans escaped him. His lips shivered, and his teeth sank into her dark leather belt to cut right through it. He popped the clasp of her jeans open with two fingers, then gnawed at her jeans until they, too, laid in tatters at her side.

"Ah, tan panties, just like your fur. Lovely." Kuta's feet shifted off hers as he tucked his knees between her spread thighs. Nala sucked in a deep breath when he gripped the seams of her panties between his jaws, waited for him to pull them off her...

Then kicked him straight into his ripe bulge as soon as he slid her panties down to her ankles. An earsplitting yowl burst from Kuta's shivering maw as the hyena curled into a writhing, whimpering ball. Nala scrambled to her feet, fell when Kuta's paw gripped her panties. She kicked at his paw, kicked the panties away and ran, as fast as she could, towards the soft slope that lead up to the gorge's upper level.

*

"You know what I like about running? That the prey is so exhausted by the end, they don't even fight back."

A cold shudder crept through Simba's spine at the hyena's smooth, rich voice. His heart pounded within his tight chest, and each panting breath he drew burned his lungs more than the previous. Yet Simba ran, swerved to the side when an oblong boulder blocked his path, unsheathed his claws to clamber up a jagged, rocky formation.

"Gah," he groaned as he crashed onto his chest. Moss covered the rocky surface, thick and slippery, and he latched his paws onto the steep surface with desperate swings.

"Oh, don't climb up there," Foka said from behind, too close for comfort. "I'm not responsible for your stupidity, you know, and I'm loathe to let you break one of those perfect limbs."

Simba yelped, and Foka snickered when his tight grip caught Simba's ankle. He pulled, so hard Simba's claws lashed out at thin air as his balance wavered.

He fell, his eyes wide and his mouth wide open to allow a frail whimper when his back crashed on top of Foka's chest

"I told you." Foka's shins curled around Simba's legs to trap him into a vicious grip while his arms wrapped around Simba's chest, pressing his hands tight against it. "That the path to freedom hurts."

Simba's ear twitched from the hyena's foul breath that fell upon it. He gritted his teeth, wriggling and shoving his elbows at Foka's rock hard abs and ribs. He didn't even flinch. All he did was giggle, tighten his grip around Simba's frame and lick at his ear with broad tongue strokes.

"Relax, little one. Tension spoils the pleasure."

Simba scrunched his muzzle and squeezed his eyes shut. There was nothing pleasurable in having that slimy tongue brush against his fur! He hurled himself to the side when Foka planted another lick across his cheek, hard enough to escape the hyena's clutch.

Simba staggered onto his fours, scrambled to his feet, and growled when Foka's claws bit into his shoulder. He flung Simba's jacket away, then lunged forward to grip the sleeve of Simba's T-shirt.

"Just stop and I promise I'll--"

The words died in Foka's muzzle as Simba slipped out of his loose T-shirt. A growl replaced them, raw and ominous, urging Simba's aching limbs to break into a maladroit dash through the darkening corridors between boulders. He clawed at them for balance, even tried clambering up the soft incline opening up ahead when Foka's paw latched onto the seams of his pants.

Simba fell to the ground, kicking at the hyena's face.

"OW!" Foka yelped. He tugged hard enough at Simba's pants to allow the cub to slither out of them and continue his dash up the rising slope.

His feet stung from the sharp pebbles biting into his pads. His breath grew ragged and raspy, and his eyes watered from both exhaustion and shock. Simba took one more lethargic step, then another before he proceeded to crawl onto his fours, too tired to continue otherwise.

He stiffened when Foka caught him by the tail, yowled when his broad paws draped around his waist, his fingers tight around his white briefs.

Simba threw him a desperate look, and the hyena's honey colored eyes glimmered with perverse curiosity. "All I wanted was to see how well you are equipped." He pulled down Simba's briefs. "Now I can."

He let that gaunt jaw of his exposed in the process, allowing Simba to kick at it with all his might.

Thin yowls mixed with growls came from Foka's half stumbling, half rolling form. "The bigger they are, the harder they fall," Simba yelled, a smirk etched upon his muzzle. It vanished as soon as the hyena regained his footing. He threw Simba an icy glare, one that spurred the cub into a maddened race to the upper bank of the Sleeping Gorge.

He reached it, and fled straight to the desolate plains sprawling ahead.

Foka blocked his way. Ragged, panting, a crooked smile plastered upon his broad muzzle. "Well well, seems that the bigger limbs also outrace the smaller ones."

Simba retreated away from his advancing form, arms raised and claws out, ready to shred and tear the hyena's offending limbs. "Back off, and I'll make sure my dad finds you a comfortable cell where you can rot for the rest of your life."

A harsh giggle escaped Foka. "For what?" His eyes fell upon Simba's nakedness, urging the cub to hide his exposed parts, much to Foka's displeasure. A snarl replaced his mirth, and his eyes narrowed. "All I wanted was a peek. A touch. Perhaps a little more."

Simba glanced back at the shrinking bank of the Gorge. His knees buckled at the sight of the abyss sprawling behind him, and frail whimpers burst in his throat. He stopped a few feet away from the edge of the abyss and leaned forward, ready to...

To what? Tackle a hyena twice bigger than him? Fight Foka, when Simba's elbow blows unfazed him? He licked his muzzle due to apprehension and gave Foka his meanest snarl.

"Back off. It's your last chance," Simba half said, half whimpered.

"Cute," Foka drawled. "Let me give you the same opportunity. Take your paws off your privates and I'll make sure no claws of mine pierce your beautiful hide."

"My dad will kill you!" Simba threatened.

Foka merely snickered. "Daddy isn't here, you have nowhere else to go, and I'm twice--thrice bigger than you, little one." He cocked an eyebrow. "So, what are you going to do?"

A rustle came from the dried patch of shrubs on the left. Simba's breath caught in his throat as he expected the worst. The other hyena, the one who chased Nala.

He released a panicked yowl as sudden realization struck him. He didn't protect Nala, like he promised. He let her...let her...

"Be smart. Expose yourself, and let's both have a good time."

"NO!" Simba roared. "I'll kill you myself!" His muscles stiffened, and the claws of his feet bit into the ground for purchase as he prepared to lunge at his assailant.

Then, a tawny arrow pierced through the shrubs on Simba's left. It hurled itself at the hyena, biting and clawing and hissing.

Nala? Simba froze, his limbs quaking from the surreal sight before him. It was Nala!

Her frail form lunged back from Foka's swinging arm, then she kicked him in the nuts hard enough for the Hyena to stiffen, release a soft whimper, and sway towards the edge of the cliff. He crashed besides the mouth of the slant Simba had clambered, writhing and whimpering. Nala towered above him, and with a well placed kick to its back, she sent the Hyena rolling down the slope in a fit of cries and yowls.

Nala whirled to face Simba, snarling for a split moment before her eyes widened and her features softened.

"Are you alright? You're..." her words trailed off as her paws covered her muzzle. She turned away in an instant, but not before Simba glimpsed the tiny crevice nestled between her legs.

"You too," he said. He lowered his paws to cover his privates when Nala's head turned towards him, her skittish eyes settling on his nakedness before looking away.

"You know what? I won't even ask. Let's run before the other hyena finds us."

Simba's tail stood erect at that, and his fur bristled. "He didn't do anything to you, did he?" His heart pounded with fright and anger in equal measure. If that bastard hurt Nala...

"Not even a scratch, but I don't want to stay around and find out."

"Good idea," Simba agreed, and broke off into a dash after Nala. As much as he forced himself to look away, his gaze hovered to Nala's supple thighs, at her well shaped rump before his eyes fixated on the swaying pink slit that marked her gender. He gulped hard at the arousing sight, gritted his teeth and faced forward. He kept his gaze averted from Nala for most of their exhausting jog, only to gasp when she suddenly stopped and bent over to catch her breath. Her tail rocked from side to side, unable to cover her exposed privates, too pink and too visible to Simba.

His mind grew foggy as a shudder crept through him, along with a strange tingling sensation around his malehood. He licked his muzzle, made sure to cover himself and walked up to her. "You think they'll find us here?"

She shook her head. "I'm not taking any chances. We run until there's grass under our paws and these kopje are nowhere to be seen." Her voice shook with tiredness--and something more. Her gaze was bleary, unfocused, and her shoulders stiff and straight. Simba nodded, and followed her to the safety of a lush fig tree surrounded by thick, tall shrubs.

Nala crashed by its trunk. Her arms curled around her torso and her knees pressed tight to her chest. Simba rested besides her, mirroring her position. With his malehood tucked between his thighs, there was no way she could see it.

A cold shudder crept through Simba's spine, and he frowned at his misplaced sense of pride. They had been assaulted by hyenas--hyenas that wanted to have their way with them in the most disturbing of ways. He had put himself in danger he barely escaped from, no thanks to his courage.

And, after all they had been through, he cared more about Nala seeing his cock than her wellbeing?

"I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath.

Nala's ears didn't even twitch. She kept staring at the tip of her still tail, without even blinking.

"I'm sorry," Simba said, louder.

Nala shuddered, jumped away from Simba. Her lips curled into a faint snarl under her narrow gaze, and claws poked out of their sheaths.

Simba yelped. He raised his arms in fright, only to lower them when a whimper escaped Nala. "Sorry." She assumed her previous position, with her shoulder leaning against Simba's arm. "I was thinking about him, Kuta or whatever his companion called him. About the things he said."

"What uhm--" Simba paused to swallow and wet his parched throat. "What did he say?"

"I don't know. Things that he wanted to do to me, things that..." her voice broke into a quiet sob.

Simba's frame rocked under the weight of guilt. He placed a shivering paw on top of her shoulder, only to wince when she slapped it away and fixated her cold, pale green eyes on him.

"I told you so, Simba. You said you'll never hear these words from me." Her muzzle inched closer to him--close enough for her hot breath to make his fur bristle. "I told you so. My friend, my protector, my..." her eyes squeezed the tears welling within them, allowing them to roll down her petite cheeks. "My love."

Simba gasped at that. They only made fun of love. Scorned it, despised it, called it bland and useless. Yet, the way her voice shuddered, laden with the weight of suppressed emotions, broke through Simba's resolve. He couldn't stay strong, not when Nala spoke words he never wanted to hear from her.

He crumbled upon Nala's chest, hugging her with all his might as he loosened his pent-up surge of inner turmoil.

"I was wrong," Simba whined through his sobs, "I was so wrong, Nala. I will earn your forgiveness. I will do whatever it takes." He stood a little straighter at his own words, and allowed Nala to rest against his chest while stroking her frame and kissing her forehead. "I love you, and I will never put you through something like that again. You know that."

Her tear drenched gaze lifted to match his. "I know," she said before she planted a wet kiss upon Simba's muzzle.

He would have reddened in an instant. He would have pushed her away, call her out for her ridiculous gesture. But, right now, Simba was too numb to care, and his shivers too taxing to push Nala away. He pulled her tighter into his embrace, just as his muzzle pressed tighter against hers as they shared a curt, passionate kiss.

"I slipped, but I promise, it will not happen again," Simba said while caressing Nala's cheeks. "Never again, Nala."

"I believe you," she whispered. Her body shifted on top of Simba as the two cubs hugged each other fiercely. For a brief moment, Simba forgot about the hyenas, about his recklessness, about all of it. Everything that mattered was Nala's warmth, and the softness of her exposed belly pressed against his.

Nala's cry caused Simba to jerk to awareness. She rolled away from him, hissing, then whimpering. Simba scrambled onto his feet and placed himself in front of Nala and between whatever danger she spotted.

"What are you doing?" Nala asked.

Simba whirled in the direction she faced, and his frail roar died in his throat.

"The question is, what are you doing," Zazu said, his authoritative gaze bearing down upon Simba. The hornbill waved a wingtip at Simba and turned his back towards them. "Cover yourself, before this gets even more ridiculous."

"I can't--we--our clothes--" Simba stuttered.

"We're only...only..." Nala cut in, yet her voice, too, faltered.

"Don't explain it to me, but to your parents." He turned his head, and looked away when he glimpsed Simba's nakedness. The cub covered himself, but not in time to stop Zazu's dreadful words from spilling from his oversized beak.

"They will be very interested to know who taught you how to do what you were trying to do."

Simba stiffened instantly, and gulped hard at that. He shared a glance with Nala, whose gaze sank to the floor as her tail wrapped around her thighs for an extra layer of protection.

In that moment, Simba felt like fighting a whole pack of hyenas, if only to avoid the trouble that followed Zazu's misguided discovery. No amount of excuses and arguing would convince the hornbill otherwise, not when their clothing lied at the bottom of the Sleeping Gorge.