A Ghost Of A Memory

As awkward as Simba may have seemed to Imani, it was truly a wonder he could speak to the female at all. Being around the opposite sex gave the lion a strange feeling inside, and the last thing he wanted was for Imani to leave now. Still, he did not argue, but was instead thrilled to learn that he was not the only one who desired a repeat visit. He could accept her departure if she was coming back again soon, and he nodded with enthusiasm. "Tomorrow? Yeah, that sounds great- just fine! I'll be here," he said casually, for where else would he be?

Little did Simba know how many lives his absence had destroyed, how many were suffering at that very moment because he would not return. But going back seemed like an impossibility, and Simba had scarcely entertained the idea. Timon and Pumbaa still had no idea who the golden brown lion really was. The Pridelands seemed thousands of miles away, and his old existence was like a faint memory. Imani's presence was a reminder of the past, but she had not given him a hard time for his lifestyle, as others likely would. Simba did not care to think of such things, and was just happy to have someone else to talk to. The young male was not complaining that said someone else was an attractive lioness.

He stood to show Imani the direction that she should go, back to her usual stomping grounds in the savanna. "See you again soon, Imani." The smile that crossed his pale muzzle now was spread practically from ear to ear, but once more, his gaze fell shyly as he spoke. "I look forward to it." Just what would his warthog and meerkat companions think of his lady friend? Simba was certain they wouldn't approve, and made a mental note to keep his encounter that day to himself. Imani would be his own private secret, for as long as he could keep it. The lion took a few steps closer to Imani, but then thought better of it and stopped, brown eyes falling to his paws again. If he were more brave, perhaps he would try to nuzzle her goodbye, but instead he chuckled nervously to himself and turned away. Maybe tomorrow, he would be brave. Until then, it was back to the oasis, back to the lonesome paradise that had grown dull.