"Kiara, be careful there," Simba said, as he watched his daughter scarf down her meal, "eat it a bit slower of you might choke."

"Oh, come off it Simba," Nala replied cheerily as their daughter mutter something between mouthfuls, "if there's one thing our daughter knows how to do, it's eat." Kiara's appetite was large, indeed it always had been that way, and combined with the King's overprotective attitude, it led to the royal princess being, as her parents called it, chubby, but more truthfully, fat. Not that this was much of a problem, because while Kiara would probably never be in any shape to hunt, Simba's overprotective attitude insured a lack of basic hunting skills anyway.

Of course, even with hunting off the list, there was always the danger posed by the Outlanders, a band of ruthless, efficient killers who, though too weak for an outright war, wouldn't hesitate to kill an isolated lioness, especially such an important one, though that threat was more seen by Simba that by Kiara herself.

After finishing her meal, Kiara turned to her parents, and asked, "mum, can I go down to the waterhole?"

"Only if Timon and Pumbaa go with you," Simba replied.

"Aw, but those two are always going on about eating bugs," Kiara replied, "eating bugs is disgusting."

"You're only going down to the waterhole if Timon and Pumbaa go with you," Simba repeated.

Kiara tried to outstare her father for a moment, but gave up and hung her head, mumbling, "okay."