The Lion King: My Lullaby

Chapter One

The sun was burning white-hot, and the sky was bright and clear. A pied crow flapped hurriedly through the warm air, its black and white feathers standing out sharply against the expanse of blue. It scanned the ground with eager eyes, observing the devastation that stretched from one horizon to the next.

The earth below was a mess of mud and tangled vegetation, cut through by rivulets of dirty water. Towering trees lay pulled up by their roots, and skeletal branches jutted out from the mud like gnarled claws. The ground was turned up as though some massive beast had raked its talons across it, and land that had once been open savanna was now a lumpy mire of sludge and debris.

The crow trimmed its wings and descended down in a neat spiral, feeling the heavy, damp air drawing closer. At the same time, the unmistakable odor of decay hit the bird's nostrils, and its nasal bristles quivered with anticipation. Every carrion bird for miles around had heard about the great feast, and the ground was littered with hundreds if not thousands of winged scavengers.

The sound of their squawking and squabbling was matched only by the deafening buzz of an innumerable number of flies. The insects hovered over the earth like a thick black mist, making the air vibrate with a dull, incessant hum. The crow flew undeterred through the noisy swarm, landing gracefully on an overturned tree.

The scavenging birds were all gathered together in tight clusters, feeding greedily on bits of things they pulled from the piles of muck. There were a few other crows, some marabou storks, some ravens, and just about every species of vulture imaginable. Normally the birds would be forced to compete with jackals, hyenas, or even the occasional lion, but there were none of those creatures left in this place.

Excitedly, the crow followed the alluring scent towards a shapeless lump, where a group of shaggy vultures were feeding. The crow grabbed a strip of meat from the pile and gulped it down with relish before one of the vultures suddenly turned around and snapped its sharp beak threateningly.

"My food! Mine!" the vulture squawked in a language that all carrion birds understand.

The crow had never really stopped to consider just how huge vultures were until that very moment, and it jumped back with a nervous squawk. The crow then fluttered back onto the log, preening its tousled feathers thoughtfully before deciding to try its luck with another group.

"My meat! Go away!" snapped another vulture, beating its enormous wings so hard that it sent the crow tumbling backwards.

Shaking the mud from its feathers, the crow angrily tugged at the vulture's tail, but it did no good. For all its efforts, the crow only ended up with a few mouthfuls of food, and that was nowhere near enough to sate the appetite it had picked up during its journey to reach this place.

Suddenly, the crow spotted something. There was a large acacia tree looming just a short flight away, casting a dark pool of shadow on the ground. One half of the root system had been ripped up, but it clung on desperately with the half that remained. The tree jutted out from the earth at an odd angle, and many of its lower branches had been stripped bare. But there, at the very top, where the few remaining leaves were still clinging on, the bird saw something very interesting.

The crow fluttered casually up into the tree, trying not to draw too much attention to itself. It landed at the farthest end of one of the thorny branches, tilting its head this way and that as it examined the form tangled in the threadbare canopy.

The crow couldn't believe its good fortune! There, resting in the highest branches of the acacia tree, was the body of a fully-grown lioness. Her tan fur was crusted and dull, and flies swarmed about her eyes and nose. Her torso and belly were balanced precariously atop a crooked bough, and her sharp claws were still fixed into the bark.