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Description

The night wore on as Kion solemnly made his way to the border of the Pridelands. The lion dared not glance back at the home he once knew lest he give up on his self-imposed exile, yet he deeply desired to. Eyes squeezed tight and breath held in, he crossed the marked border into the unknown, to a fate he had not been destined to as he once was as prince of the Pridelands. Shakily the held breath slipped out Kion continued his march, not paying heed to the gathering storm above him.

A torrent of rain pelted his skin as he dashed across the savannah to find shelter. The rumbling thunder shook the ground beneath his paws as a bolt of electricity struck the tree that he so nearly chose to hide under. Cursing, he forced his tired muscles to push harder to find someplace to retire for the night.

Collapsing in the makeshift den, Kion felt his paws pulsating with every heartbeat, his legs ached from overuse, and his lungs burned with each shaky breath. The cold seeped into his bones as he drifted into an uneasy sleep, repeating the events earlier that day.

Anger. Hatred. Jealousy. It all bubbled out of his chest as he lashed at his father.
"Of course, you'd take her but leave me! Always playing in her favour, what about me? Am I not the leader of the Lion Guard? I have every right to participate in the kingdom meeting as she does!"
"I am not refuting that, Kion, but I need you here precisely because you are the Lion Guard. Your mother and I will be gone along with your sister. If not you, who shall I place to watch over the Pridelands? Your role here is just as important."
The prince spat on the ground by his father's feet. Who did Simba think he was? King? Sure, but he was the prince and leader of the Lion Guard - the most essential member of the kingdom.
"You're ashamed of me. That's why you don't want me there. Don't want your bastard to dirty your appearance."
"Kion! That is enough! You are staying here."
A sudden surge of rage boiled his blood. Without regard, he swiped at his father's throat, aiming to maim the King. His eyes glowed red as he bared his teeth; no lion would tell him what to do.
"Kion..."
Simba stumbled back from shock. Luckily, he dodged the attack but was stunned by his son's sudden outburst.
"Dad...I-"
"No, this the end of this conversation. Go cool off."
Kion looked at his paws, watching the beads of blood run off his claws and seep into the dry earth. Had...No. No, he could not have just attacked his father. Yet the evidence was there: His claws out, blood soaked into the ground, and the disturbed faces of witnesses. What has become of him?

Description

The night wore on as Kion solemnly made his way to the border of the Pridelands. The lion dared not glance back at the home he once knew lest he give up on his self-imposed exile, yet he deeply desired to. Eyes squeezed tight and breath held in, he crossed the marked border into the unknown, to a fate he had not been destined to as he once was as prince of the Pridelands. Shakily the held breath slipped out Kion continued his march, not paying heed to the gathering storm above him.

A torrent of rain pelted his skin as he dashed across the savannah to find shelter. The rumbling thunder shook the ground beneath his paws as a bolt of electricity struck the tree that he so nearly chose to hide under. Cursing, he forced his tired muscles to push harder to find someplace to retire for the night.

Collapsing in the makeshift den, Kion felt his paws pulsating with every heartbeat, his legs ached from overuse, and his lungs burned with each shaky breath. The cold seeped into his bones as he drifted into an uneasy sleep, repeating the events earlier that day.

Anger. Hatred. Jealousy. It all bubbled out of his chest as he lashed at his father.
"Of course, you'd take her but leave me! Always playing in her favour, what about me? Am I not the leader of the Lion Guard? I have every right to participate in the kingdom meeting as she does!"
"I am not refuting that, Kion, but I need you here precisely because you are the Lion Guard. Your mother and I will be gone along with your sister. If not you, who shall I place to watch over the Pridelands? Your role here is just as important."
The prince spat on the ground by his father's feet. Who did Simba think he was? King? Sure, but he was the prince and leader of the Lion Guard - the most essential member of the kingdom.
"You're ashamed of me. That's why you don't want me there. Don't want your bastard to dirty your appearance."
"Kion! That is enough! You are staying here."
A sudden surge of rage boiled his blood. Without regard, he swiped at his father's throat, aiming to maim the King. His eyes glowed red as he bared his teeth; no lion would tell him what to do.
"Kion..."
Simba stumbled back from shock. Luckily, he dodged the attack but was stunned by his son's sudden outburst.
"Dad...I-"
"No, this the end of this conversation. Go cool off."
Kion looked at his paws, watching the beads of blood run off his claws and seep into the dry earth. Had...No. No, he could not have just attacked his father. Yet the evidence was there: His claws out, blood soaked into the ground, and the disturbed faces of witnesses. What has become of him?