Netting a cub.
Samson looked at Aslan.
“Let’s get you a
coat too,” he mewed. Aslan smiled at
Samson. Samson dragged another rug from the
store and buckled it around Aslan, the smaller lion playing up to Theo by doing
his best impersonation of a horse, to
“You look so
“Now we go fruit picking,” he mewed. Samson grinned at the two younger lions.
“Good luck,” Theo mewed. Fleur padded up to Samson, hugged him, and decided she’d join the party. Smiling at his sweetheart, Samson led the group out to the garden, the darkness well in now. Their eyes adjusting to the darkness, the cats padded through the garden and into the wood. Samson showed them bushes where they could pick blackberries.
“Now gently take
the berries off the bush with the toes of one paw, nip the berry off at the
root, don’t crush it now,” he advised.
Even with this good counsil, all the cats had stained forepaws before
five minutes passed. Samson stood back
“Any news today?” He asked himself, breathing steadily, his eyes and ears browsing through information like a human would the local newspaper. Though what Samson was picking up was more akin to the internet, this being the home page of the website of the wild.
“No news,” Samson thought, tuning out, but keeping alert. Suddenly he heard something, a tiny sound, a cry, from somewhere off to his right. Twitching his ears, he focused, opening his mouth and holding his breath so he didn’t confuse his senses. Yes, there it was again, a tiny cry, desperate, pleading, as confused as he was clear headed. Samson breathed softly, feeling a paw touch his.
there, frightened and alone,” Samson mewed, “come with me
“They’re not too
far off,” Samson mewed, referring to the men, “I think, think something
disturbed them and they dumped the bag.
What are they doing with a string bag anyway?”
“’tis a white
cub, a white lion cub
“What is a white
cub doing here in the middle of the night?”
“I can answer that one,” Hop along snarled, his anger and grief clear to hear.
“What?” Samson asked.
“The men were carrying the bag through the wood,” the tiger replied, “It’s an illegal trade in lion cubs. They get money for the cub; a white one is very expensive.” Samson sniffed at the white cub in the net bag, his mood changing suddenly.
“The scent is
familiar,” he mewed, “I know this cub’s parents, one of them at least. History repeating itself, a lost white
“No, oh Sammy, please, tell me you’re not serious!” She mewed.
“I scared the men away,” Hop along mewed, “you thought they were nearby because they left their belongings in the bushes. A rucksack and a water bottle, I’ve investigated the lot. A mobile telephone in there, plus syringes of something. Possibly sedative for their captive. The cub is drugged, despite appearances.” The tiny cub looked up into Samson’s face with glazed but terrified eyes.
“I want my mum,” it cried. Samson gulped hard, the truth of what he was feeling plain in his own eyes.
“Elsa, the same
Elsa!” He snarled, “She was banished
from here some time ago, and she had another white cub! You have one lion here, a lion with wandering
eyes, one that wants lioness’s but can’t stand cubs! He made this cub!”
“Tommy!” Hop along mewed, “so Elsa had the cub, weaned him, and threw him out, the humans caught him and then lost him when I intervened?” The tiger asked Samson.
“Yes, I think so,
but we can’t be sure. This cub’s only
two months old, ripe for the pet trade. Only just weaned too, look at his
escape little one,”
“Simba, friend, no fight,” the cub whispered.
“Not another Simba!” Aslan yelled, arriving and catching the cub’s whispered words.”
“He can’t help his name,”
“What?” Aslan asked, “How should you know anything?”
“This cub and I
are related, I am his sister!”
“Elsa,” Aslan breathed, “the bitch! I knew she’d not be away for long!”
“Who’s to say she’s anywhere near here,” Samson mewed, “her cub’s here, but she could be continents away now. Where is Tommy?”
Tommy trip left the house soon after Leo’s death, not
wanting to be present if the secret of his night time wanderings should come to
roost. Eohippus had told him that she
would bring any white cubs to
“I have a funny feeling about all this,”
“How are we going to free him?” Aslan asked.
“Let me have a go,” Samson mewed, taking a portion of the net in his teeth and between his forepaws, the cub whimpering and cowering as far away as he could. Samson tore and bit at the net, but couldn’t free the cub, the net being made of plastic mixed with wire. Samson gave up after a while, cursing and spitting blood, for he’d cut his mouth and paw pads on the netting.
“We’ll need some human help with this,” he panted, “that stuff’s too strong!”
“Let me have a
“You’ve got soft
paws!” Samson mewed, “you’ll be cut to
“I know little one,”
“You won’t be able to break the net,” the cub mewed, “that lion couldn’t, and he’s stronger than you.”
because he knew what would happen when Elsa had another white cub,” she mewed,
“eohippus brought the cub to you
“I was beginning
to think the same thing,”
“He’s a male lion, they do that kind of thing,” Aslan mewed.
“I’m hungry,” the cub mewed.
“I wonder if I
still have the ability to produce milk for lost cubs.”
“Tell me little one,” she asked, “can you eat meat?” The cub nodded.
“Before you go
to sleep Simba, could you please help me get this rug off?”
“This is warm,”
“Take the other
end of the rug in your teeth, and drag it over here,” she mewed.
looking after me now?” He asked.
“I am,” she
mewed with certainty, “I am.” Simba
Meanwhile, Theo, having heard from Hop along and the rest of
Samson’s group of the goings on in the wood, paced about, angry at Elsa, but
“Tommy should be shot!” He mewed, “he knows what his problems are. Why does he do it time after time! Before we know what’s hit us, we’ll have loads of white cubs turning up, we can’t have this, and neither can they! It’s not fair!”
“Probably milk for the first night,” Theo purred, “then, if she finds he can eat meat, she’ll try him on that, though this could cause issues for her.”
“She won’t be able to help him hunt for meat, let alone show him how to eat it,” Fleur mewed, very concerned.
“Yes,” Theo replied, “well, there’s one good thing, Little Simba will be getting five portions of fruit and vegetables a day, that’s for sure.” Samson laughed helplessly at this.
“It wasn’t that good,” Theo protested.
Simba woke in the late evening feeling much better. He remembered his capture by the humans, and a stinging pain in his shoulder, then nothing until he was woken by being dropped into a net sack. Simba could still feel the netting against his paw pads, and the memory frightened him. What he remembered most of all though was the white lioness that broke the net and took him in her paws. His mother had said something to him in anger about a white cub she’d had once, a cub that she’d hated and wanted dead, just like she now hated him and wanted him dead. This was before she’d shovelled him out of the den and run off with his sandy coloured brother. Simba looked into the face of his rescuer, she looked like a cub to him, but she clearly wasn’t a cub, not with the strength she had, her face was cub like however. But, when he looked down at her paws, they weren’t cub’s paws; they were large, fat, as well as very very warm and comforting. This lioness knew how to give comfort. For Simba knew that without a word, she’d soothed him. He reached up and lovingly touched the lioness’s whiskers with his paw. She shifted slightly, rubbing back against his paw pads, her paws round him tightening their hug. Simba sighed contentedly.
“I love you,”
he whispered to the lioness.
“You are safe here now,” she said to the cub. Simba looked into her eyes.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
“That’s my name,
don’t wear it out,”
“I, I think,
think I know that name,” Simba replied,
“for it was that name my mother used when describing a cub she’d had who looked
like me. She didn’t like that cub, nor
did she like me. She said I was as bad
as that cub, but, but you aren’t bad!”
“Hey Simba dear, hush sweet cub, hush my dear.”
“I can’t be
your cub! I want to be, but I can’t
be!” Simba sobbed, “You’re my sister,
and I so wanted to be someone’s cub!”
“You are my cub, you are my cub Simba. If you want to be my cub, you can be. I don’t mind if you want to call me mum, for I’ll love you all the same whatever you call me. I know what it’s like Simba; I know how it is for you my dear.”
You can’t know!” Simba cried.
know! Trust me little cub, I know!”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” the cub mewed, touching her nose with his, “I’m sorry!”
“One day you’ll
learn my tale Simba,”
“Okay,” the cub mewed, feeling stupid now.
“Let me hug
you mum,” Simba said naturally, as if to his own mother.
“I’m sorry for
raising my voice to you Simba,”
“Now isn’t that sweet,” someone said. Simba screamed with terror!
“Go away Orsa!”
“We’ve met, haven’t we Simba,” Orsa snarled, “the little cub was in his net and I found him before any of you. We had a little game didn’t we Simba?”
“I ran away when the men came back, before Hop along sent them packing and Samson found Simba. You two were so engrossed in Simba you didn’t see me, or hear Hop along roaring at the men. As for the game, well, me and a few mates came across this white scrap in his bag…”
“Capybara,” Orsa replied, “great fun they are. Well, me and the two capybara had some fun with Simba.” Simba began to cry.
“Fun?” He sobbed, “That wasn’t fun! You, you, you kicked me, slapped me, beat me
up with your paws! I couldn’t do
anything to stop them!”
me!” |Petra roared at Orsa, the female
polar bear cringing at the lioness’s tone, “You will pay for this!”
“You touch a
hair on my cub’s head ever again, I’ll murder you!”
“What’s this?” Allie asked, coming fast into the room, “What’s going on!” Simba gave her a hurried but accurate description of everything in about five seconds flat. Allie listened, caught his drift, and rounded on her cub.
“How dare you beat up a defenceless cub!” The female polar bear yelled.
“It was fun, real fun!” Orsa replied, “You should have heard him squeal. He knew we were beating him up, but he could do nothing, that bag was a real help to us. We rolled him about a bit, picked him up, threw him about, and then booted him back under the bush when the men came. They didn’t see us, but they saw their plaything. They stuck another of the pointed things into the cub and he went quiet once more, then they left, just before you turned up. The stuff they put into the cub only subdued him, it didn’t knock him out, everything better for us.”
You blood thirsty little bag of fur!” Allie yelled, “How could you kick and throw around a defenceless cub!”
“Lions can take
it; he’s a tough little scrap!” Orsa
yelled. Simba meanwhile, cried into
“It was probably a blessing Simba was so out of it, or he might have been killed!” She roared.
“I will take Orsa away,” Allie replied, “you will hear no more from her!”
Theo padded in then. He looked shocked.
he, he killed both Capybara!” Theo
“Samson’s definitely got a problem with those Capybara,” she mewed, “for them, along with Orsa, beat up a cub, a defenceless white lion cub.”
“A white lion cub?” Theo asked, “I know you’re looking a bit younger than you were, but you don’t look in the least beaten up,” Theo replied, “anyway, you could have kicked their backsides!”
“Not me, not
“Noone tells me anything these days,” Theo mewed, “what white lion cub?”
“The same one Hop
along and his team told you of,”
moved last night,” he remarked to
“I wanted to get him to somewhere safe, out there wasn’t safe,” she mewed. Theo touched noses with Simba.
“You’ll be fine here Simba my friend,” he purred.
Meanwhile, in the garden, Samson cleared up the mess from his and Fleur’s meal of capybara. Theo had run off before Fleur had begun eating her fill. Now both were satisfied, Fleur not in the least phased she and her mate had just eaten the community’s capybara population. Samson looked at his mate.
“That tasted so good!” Samson mewed. Fleur smiled:
“They did,” Fleur mewed. Theo listened at the back door, unable to believe his ears.
“You, you ate the capybara too Fleur?” He asked.
“I did,” Fleur mewed, “and I liked it too.” Theo covered his face with his paw.
“I thought you couldn’t stand killing!” Theo mewed.
“I kill for food,” Fleur mewed.
“You don’t care for the capybara then?” Theo asked.
“Caring for Capybara? No!” Fleur mewed, “if they don’t care for us, why should I care for them? They are good eating,” she turned to Samson, “aren’t they my dear,” she said, Samson smiling at her.
“Nice,” she purred. Samson looked at Theo.
“Did you get hold of that bloody polar bear cub?” He asked. Theo grimaced.
“Orsa did things to Simba, things that, that, I can hardly put into words. Kicking him about like a football. He was drugged Samson! Worse than when you saw him!” Theo began to cry, despite trying not to.
“Orsa called it a game,” Theo sobbed, “she said it was fun to kick the cub around! I want her to suffer! I don’t care Samson, I want her to suffer! I know I shouldn’t advocate violence, but do what you have to, make Orsa see sense, for we’ve become too soft here! So soft that the cubs think they can do anything and get away with it!” Samson had a vision of a polar bear cub kicking at and teasing Simba in his net prison, and it made him angry!
“I will do the necessary,” he mewed. Stamping away, he jerked his head at Fleur.
“Come with me,” he said, “I might need someone to comfort little Simba while me and his foster mum rip Orsa to shreds!” Fleur padded after her mate, Theo lowering his head in despair.
Meanwhile, up in Snowy’s control room, snowy and Tigger listened to the goings on, having seen most of it from their technological powerhouse. Snowy had even installed infrared cameras in the wood, and managed to catch everything on camera. She wasn’t looking forward to showing the footage to Samson. The lion, wild though he was, was also tender hearted, and she knew her film would have him weeping bitterly.
“Poor Simba,” Tigger mewed, “that poor cub has gone through so much.” Snowy took his paw and squeezed it.
Back in Allie and Sam’s den, Orsa lay trembling as Samson looked down at her.
“You deserve to die!” Samson roared, “I know you will grow to be larger than me, but now, now you are a cub! I am not willing to allow you to grow up if you are going to grow up a spiteful cub! You might have come into the world being massaged from nose to tail, but you will go out in shreds! I do not want to do this, but Simba is my cub, is my brother, and is my responsibility! I will not turn from that Orsa! Because of this, I want retribution for what you did. You will give me my due! I will have my pound of flesh! You do not know the wild, blood for blood, honour among animals is paramount. If one of our number is injured by someone else, we stand together and fight! Fight! Fight! I will not allow you to kick a defenceless cub like a football and get away with it! Do you realise how much trouble you are in?” Orsa, dry mouthed, shook her head.
“What happened to the capybara,” she asked.
“Their energy was transferred to Samson and Fleur in the most economical way possible.” Kalahari replied, passing through to grab another book from the boss’s library.
“Um, what was he saying?” Allie asked.
“Fleur and I ate the capybara,” Samson mewed. Allie looked shocked!
“You didn’t!” She exclaimed, “what, what did Theo have to say about this?”
“He could do
nothing,” Fleur mewed “though he did ask that we made sure Orsa got
punished. I was sent to look after Simba
while Samson and
“Good luck to you my cub,” she whispered, knowing what was about to happen was out of her paws. Orsa had trodden on pride ground with her clumsy paws, and would be made to pay for it.
Samson shepherded Orsa from the room, her paws damp with sweat. Allie closed her eyes to stop herself from collapsing.
“This is it!” She thought, “My cub is going to die!”
bears are big!” He mewed, “the cub that
kicked me about was big, so what’s her mother like?”
this cub for no other reason than you thought it would be fun,” Samson said to
Orsa, “you and your buddies, who are now dead, found Simba tied up and drugged
by humans. You kicked him and threw him
around like a plaything! Is this right
Simba?” Simba, peeping out at the scene
from between the toes of
“I think Simba
isn’t ready to see this,”
“But it is pride custom that cubs see justice done to perpetrators of crimes against them,” Samson mewed, “Simba needs to see justice done to Orsa! You can’t deny him that!”
“I’m not denying
“Who will carry
out my sentence?” Orsa asked, “
“Who is it to
be?” Samson asked
“Okay, so be it,
it is set.” Samson mewed. Simba’s paws tightened on
killed mum!” He sobbed, choking on his
tears. Coughing, he fought for breath,
his paws still clamping
mothers are dangerous!” He sobbed, his
breath catching in his throat, “you’ll be killed mum!”
“Don’t do it mum,
don’t touch that cub!” Simba pleaded,
“Her mother will come and kill you! I
don’t want to lose you!”
careful,” she whispered, “I promise.
When we talked this over earlier, you wanted to see everything; don’t
you want to see what happens now?”
Simba, now the crunch was about to happen, didn’t want to see
anything. His paws soaked with sweat, he
“I beg you to leave it for now!” Simba pleaded.
“I trust you mum,” Simba said hoarsely, “and if it was any other animal apart from a polar bear I wouldn’t ask you to stop, but it’s a polar bear, they’re huge, and don’t understand the pride like we do. What’s the point in punishing a cub who doesn’t understand why she’s being punished? A polar bear isn’t going to understand our ways, as we don’t understand theirs.”
“Keep talking Simba, you’re getting me off the hook!” Orsa thought.
“We must do what’s
right for the lions,”
“We can’t punish
“But, but, she
needs punishment!” Samson yelled.
care for your ways
“I must do
“You must do
something yes, threaten her, claw her, but don’t kill her. Get your lioness anger out; imagine your cub
being kicked about by a polar bear cub.
I know you want desperately to take Simba’s course, and it would be the
right thing to do, that is if Orsa wanted to learn, which she doesn’t. Warn her off
have spoken wise words,” but I have been shown another way, the way of the
A white blur suddenly shot through the door and stuck its claws into Orsa’s nose!
“You hurt my mum!” Simba yelled, “I will kill you for what you have done!” Orsa tried to fight the angry cub off, but he was angrier than she had ever seen anyone before! Simba’s claws raked down her face, Orsa’s blood streaming onto the carpet!
“If you had kept your paws to yourself, Eohippus wouldn’t have had to show mum what you did to me! Now you’ve done it to her as well! I’m not letting you hurt us both!” Samson stared in incomprehension!
“What the hell
is he doing!” He asked
“I don’t know!” She mewed, maybe he saw something!”
“You will die Orsa!” Simba yelled. Simba’s fire suddenly died, and he left off clawing at Orsa, crawling away like a cub. Orsa wanted to finish the cub off, but even though her injuries were slight, she found she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Crying, Orsa covered her bleeding face with her paws, her tears stinging the deep scratches inflicted by the claws of a tiny lion cub.
“I think Orsa’s punishment is at an end,” Samson concluded. Simba had by this time crawled back to Petra and tugged at her paw until she lay down, then he’d snuggled up to her.
“I saw you going through the same thing I went through,” the tiny white cub said, “and I couldn’t bear the thought Orsa had done it to you as well as me.”
“I asked to be
“For me, and for
you,” the cub replied, “I saw you twisting, rolling and struggling, mewing for
mercy, pleading for your life! I suppose
I did that too. I know I did, for I know
who brought me to you. The white mare
still loves you
“I felt, saw,
heard, and experienced everything you did, from the drugged feelings, to the
feel of the net bag around, beneath my paws and between my toes. I can still feel it now! Simba, I am a cub, not little, but in other
ways just like you are.” Not understanding
“We are one, you
and I,” he mewed.
Orsa scrambled to her paws, padding from the room. Samson watched her go, growling deep in his throat.
Simba patted his mum’s paw, then gently extricated himself from her huge embrace, turned to her and took her paw.
Orsa!” The cub mewed, jumping up and
down while still holding
leaping about Simba,”
“Look, my paws
are stuck to the carpet! I can’t leap
now!” The cub whimpered. he pretended to struggle to free his hind
paws, wriggling and rocking,, Petra laughing and gently trying to pick up one
of the cub’s forepaws, Simba putting his weight on the paw as if it was glued
to the carpet.
“My paw’s free from the carpet, but now we’re stuck!” Simba whimpered theatrically.
“I think we’re
bonded in more ways than one. My paws
stuck to yours!”
“Go on ~Simba,
you can do it, just a bit more, pull harder dear cub, you can free that
“If his paw is
trapped in yours, then we need help!” He
“Go on Simba,
you can do it!” His mum’s words made
Simba redouble his efforts. Squirming and wriggling in an effort to free his
hind paws which had also mysteriously become trapped, spitting and snarling
with anger, as well as worrying at his trapped forepaw, Simba amerced himself
in his fight for freedom. Now really
worried, Samson saw the cub’s whole being was focused on freeing his paws! This was too real for the huge lion! Samson wanted to run for help, but was glued
to the goings on as firmly as Simba’s hind paws were seemingly stuck to the
carpet, or his forepaw was stuck to his mum’s paw.
“What happened there?” He asked.
“Your game was
becoming rather real to you I think,”
“But I wasn’t trapped! I knew I could free my paw mum. You had no real hold on my paw at all! Well not really, maybe just a little. But not enough to trap my paw. How did I end up on my back?”
encouraged you to pull harder, you went to town with acting trapped,”
wonderful!” He mewed, “a really great
game! Can we play again? Maybe you try freeing your paw this
“I like those games,” she mewed, “they’re really fun!” Simba giggled cubbishly and took his mum’s paw, stroking it tenderly.
“I don’t understand this,” Samson said, “why pretend your paw is trapped?”
“My paw wasn’t really trapped,” Simba mewed, “I was pretending, we both were, mum holding my paw, and me trying to free it. Well, my part got a bit serious at the end I suppose, but that’s good in a way.”
“Why do this?” Samson asked, “Its strange behaviour.”
“My question is deadly serious yes,” Samson replied, “why pretend to have a trapped paw when you don’t have a trapped paw at all?”
“It’s called play,” Simba said, “We do it for fun, because we like playing those games.”
“Sit down Sammy,
don’t lie there,” she mewed. Samson sat
down, the toes of his and
“Now I will do
what Simba did, try to free my paw,” the lioness said, Samson staring dumbly
down at the lioness’s white paw held in his.
“No no no!” Simba protested, jumping up and down, “you
don’t play like that Sammy, hold mum’s paw firmly. She’ll let you know if she’s fed up.” Samson picked up
“I can’t,” he mewed, “I can’t do it; I’ve never played like this before, well, ever actually. This is so strange to me! So let me get this straight, I hold your paw, lightly, of course, and then you imagine you have a trapped paw and struggle to free it. While I sit, still holding your paw?”
“What do I do in all this?” He asked, “apart from holding your paw in mine that is.”
mum to try and free herself,” Simba mewed, “like she did for me! Of course, you have to look at the other
player, to see what they are doing, but then you react in whichever way you
feel, be it encouraging them to pull harder to free their paw, or you tugging
at yours, then you’re both in the game.
Of course, you have to let go at some time, but the trick is to know
when to let go, so each player has a really good game.
“It’s all right for you two,” Samson growled, totally out of his depth, “you can imagine those things! For all I know, you can turn a bit of rubber tube into a raft, well I can’t! I don’t know how!”
it’s all right,”
“No it’s not, it’s not at all!” Samson whimpered, shuffling his forepaws in misery, “I saw real love between you and Simba during that game. You two loved each other’s company, each playing with the other. You knew what he was thinking by watching him!”
“It was more what
his paw was telling me,”
“I never knew
how to play,” Samson mewed miserably, “my life was all training, all survival,
and no hint of taking time out to pretend play.
I don’t think I will ever be truly a part of things here Petra, I don’t
know paw massage, I can’t pretend play, I don’t even like anyone touching my
paws if the truth be told. I put up with
it in the bathroom, because that’s what they do, but I don’t like it. It’s not that I don’t want to like it; it’s
that I don’t know how! I’ve never been
able to take time to think about pretend play, or explore the potential uses
for my paws or anything like that! I
want to know, I want to play, but I’m unable to, and it frustrates me beyond
“If you want to
know about play, we’ll teach you Sammy,”
“We will teach
you Sammy,” Simba mewed. Samson looked
into Simba’s eyes, seeing in them the same light he saw in
“I want that, I want to have that light in my eyes!” Samson whispered.
“What’s Samson on about mum?” Simba asked.
“I think he
wants to be a cub again,” she mewed, “well, we’ll show him how, how about that
Simba?” Simba grinned. He patted Samson’s paw, and the lion lay
dobbin!” Simba commanded. Samson’s reply was to grab
“If only we had
good!” Simba mewed.
“Who said they couldn’t play?” She asked. Samson smiled at his friend.
“That was easier than I thought,” he mewed, Simba still giggling to himself over Samson’s attempt at whinnying like a horse.
“Simba loved it
when you pretended to be a horse,”
“Let’s hope I
don’t fall at the first fence,” Samson replied smiling.
“We’re going to make a good team you, Simba and I,” she mewed. Simba smiled and patted Samson’s back with his paws.
“We’ll make a great team!” The cub mewed, Samson fighting back his urge to weep for joy.
“Yeah we will,” Samson sniffed, wiping his eyes with his paw. Simba grinned, got carefully to his paws, trotted to Samson’s tail and slid down it to the carpet! Snorting with surprise, Samson flicked his tail, the black tasselled tip whacking Simba round the head as the cub leapt for safety from Samson’s hind paws in case he got kicked. Simba sprawled on the carpet, doing a great act of being knocked senseless by Samson’s tail, while Samson looked at the cub in horror!
“Oh no! ” he mewed, “I knocked Simba out with my
tail!” Throwing himself on the carpet
intent on gathering Simba to him to see if he’d done any permanent harm to the
white cub. Simba watched Samson through
half closed eyes, still apparently injured, and when he saw the lion’s left
forepaw come within his range, the cub grabbed it with one forepaw, tickling
his pads and toes with the other! Samson
roared with laughter, and before he knew it,
“We’ve got you right where we want you,” Simba said smiling. Samson, panting for breath after five minutes of the fiercest double tickling session his paws had ever known, smiled at the cub.
“I’d rather be nowhere else in the world than right here,” he mewed.
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