It sounds utterly dreadful.”Ĭoncerning at the very least, a bad precedent to begin his reign with.
As harsh as the Outlands but with more sand. A new land, practically a desert from what I’ve heard. “And what is there now then? A gaping void?” Replaced!” He reports dutifully, and Simba's face hardens with concern. Absolutely vanished, like a clawful of grubs in lunging distance of that warthog friend of yours. What is this news?” The newly crowned king frowns, sinking onto his haunches and focusing on the little blue hornbill. I’ve enough problems without my steward flying himself half to death. “My King My king! Horrible news!” Simba’s majordomo calls, flying into view and landing. The new King looks out from Pride Rock at the savannah, breathing in the unique scent of his Home and shaking out his mane. The rains had returned, with the death of the Kinslaying Scar the Pridelands had begun it’s long path to recovery. The two burst out of the thorny undergrowth to find themselves in a brightly lit verdant clearing facing a startled looking lady-in-waiting pausing mid-song with a bluebird on her arm. A faint rumble and the sound of half a tree falling in the woods. “Just follow my instructions and you will be! Now come on, let’s go check out this ‘Witch’.” Phillip grins and dives through the underbrush, using his sword to cleave aside wayward thorns.Īlas, the two boys tragic backstory is interrupted, and their meeting with fate shoved off the rails as the land itself seems to shift. You are so brave Phillip, I wish I was as brave as you.” The younger boy says in obvious hero worship. His wild flailing against the air meeting nothing of course. Come on, don’t be a chicken.” The elder says, drawing a wooden sword from his belt “Besides if this Witch does exist I’ll just smack her with this sword! Show her what a true Knight is made of! Hi-yah!” “Oh don’t be silly Felix, the Witch is nothing but an old bedtime story to scare us. “I don’t think we should be here…” The younger of the two says “My father says even true Knights fear the forest and the Witch within.” The caws of ravens replacing them, and a cold chill makes the boys pause and shiver, looking around finally. Thorns and vines strangle the pale trees and the melodic singing of songbirds fades.
Golden eyes glow from amidst the undergrowth, following the two boys as the sky seems to darken and the vibrant green forest slowly merges into a darker shade.
The birds sing, their high tweeting merging into a melodic chorus as the two young boys bounce through the grass, their excited conversation blissfully ignorant of the gnarled trees and deathly aura of the forest ahead of them.
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