It's been a while. Precious few moments are allowed from my training. Learning to hunt takes up a lot of time, but at least I'm a decent huntress. In the months that have passed since I've written last, things have gotten worse. For some reason, there is no rain. The grass is beginning to dry up. If we don't have rain soon, the prey might move on. We would be left to starve. Scar does nothing. He holds on to what is left of his supposed dignity, as I have no doubt he will until the very end. I've grown fairly close to Zima, the lioness that first reported hyenas. Sarabi still bears the facade of a queen, but she is in despair. Or she has hardened her heart against it. I admire her still, strong for her pride. Even when she is powerless. I believe Scar is going crazy. He has trapped Zazu in a cage of bone, forcing him to sing. I passed by the King's cave earlier to hear Scar muttering to himself. Poor Zazu has to listen to his rantings all day. Once, what seems like a long time ago, I would have gladly eaten Zazu for being a blabbermouth brat. But he's changed as much as we have. I'm taller, older. Sarabi says prettier. Zazu is quiter, more humble, and scared. Very, very scared.
I am Nala.
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Shadowlands: Nala's Journal
FanfictionYou know the story of The Lion King. But what did Nala experience in the days between her childhood and Simba's return? Here she writes her side of the story, etched on the bones of antelope.
