The sun beat down on Pride Rock, making Simba’s already generous mane look even more voluminous. He puffed slightly as he surveyed the Pridelands, his belly straining against the familiar contours of the rock. Nala, equally round and contented, leaned against him, purring.
"Ah, Simba," she rumbled, the sound vibrating through his fur. "Isn't it wonderful? A full belly, a happy Pride... and soon, plump cubs to add to it all."
Simba chuckled, a deep, hearty sound that shook his considerable frame. "Indeed, my dear. We want our little ones to know the satisfaction of a well-fed life from the start."
Their cubs, Kiara and Kion, were a testament to their philosophy. Kiara, a slightly more slender version of her mother, roamed with her friends, always sure to return for regular, hearty meals. But Kion... Kion was special.
The truth was, Kion had always been stout. Even as a cub, he carried an extra layer of fluff that made him look like a fluffy, golden boulder. Now, as a teenager, that fluff had solidified into something more substantial. He was, to put it mildly, obese. His gait was a waddle, and his roars came out as more of a puff. But Simba and Nala beamed with pride whenever they looked at him.
"Look at our Kion!" Simba would boom. "Strong and healthy! A true king in the making!"
The other animals in the Pridelands had long ago adjusted to the royal family's… robust figures. At first, there had been whispers. "Shouldn’t they be hunting more?" "Is Kion alright? He seems a bit… weighed down." But now, they understood. This wasn't a matter of neglect or lack of fitness. It was a lifestyle choice. A royal decree, in a way, to embrace the good life, the plentiful life. Besides, who would argue with a lion, especially a very, very large lion?
Kion, for his part, didn't seem to mind his size. He enjoyed napping in the sun, indulging in the tastiest morsels from the kill, and generally living a life of leisure. He was, in his own way, happy.
One day, as Kion struggled to climb a particularly steep hill, Bunga, the honey badger, scampered past him, easily scaling the incline. Bunga stopped at the top and looked down at Kion, his face a mixture of concern and amusement.
"Need a hand, Kion?" he asked.
Kion huffed, his voice strained. "Just... catching my breath, Bunga. Good... to take it slow."
Bunga shrugged. He knew better than to criticize the prince. "Okay, Kion! Just let me know if you change your mind!"
As Bunga disappeared over the crest of the hill, Kion sighed. He loved his parents, and he appreciated their generous approach to life. But sometimes, he wondered if being quite so… large… was really the best way to live. Still, he knew one thing: arguing with his parents about their lifestyle wasn't worth the effort. He took another deep breath and continued his slow, steady climb, determined to catch up with his friend, even if it took the rest of the afternoon. After all, what was the rush? There was always plenty of food, plenty of sun, and plenty of time for a nap. And in the Pridelands, under the reign of their plump and contented rulers, life was good. Very, very good. And very, very round.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author