Comforted:
Ono's wings beat rapidly, his sharp eyes focused on the distant horizon as he soared above the jagged cliffs, heading north. The wind whipped against his feathers, tugging at him like an old friend urging him onward. The moonlight cast silver shadows across the land below, but Ono’s thoughts were darker than the night sky. He couldn’t shake the images that had burned themselves into his mind—Anga, his mate, entwined with Kion in that dark cave.
How could she betray me like this? Ono thought bitterly, the memory of their intimate moment still fresh in his mind. He had flown to the cave in search of her after receiving a strange summons. He hadn't expected to find Anga with Kion, their bodies intertwined in the shadows. His heart had shattered, and the pain was more than he could bear. It felt as if his wings themselves were weighed down by the betrayal.
The Pridelands were far behind now, and the Birdstain frontier loomed ahead. Ono felt the cold bite of the wind as he crossed into unfamiliar territory, knowing that his destination was just ahead—the Tree Palace, home to King Zazu. No longer concerned with pleasantries, Ono veered toward the royal palace, his pace quickening as he neared the familiar sight of the massive tree. His heart, though heavy with betrayal, quickened with the knowledge that his king, his friend, was waiting.
As he approached the palace gates, he didn’t hesitate. The royal guards, knowing his status as Zazu’s mate, in this case one of them, because Zazu, had too a wife hornbill called Amira, stepped aside without a word. They had long ago grown accustomed to Ono’s directness. He didn’t stop to exchange pleasantries. He couldn’t. The anger, the hurt, the confusion—all of it twisted in his chest like a knot.
Tamaa, captain of the royal guard, stood in the training grounds just outside the palace. He had been overseeing a group of recruits as they practiced their formations. His sharp eyes caught the faintest sound of the palace doors creaking open, and he instinctively lifted his gaze to the sky.
“Is that... Ono?” he murmured, his voice laced with surprise.
He watched as the small egret flew past him with determination. There was something different about Ono tonight—an edge to his flight, a sharpness to his movements. Tamaa narrowed his eyes but didn’t give chase. He knew better than to question the king's mate. Whatever had transpired, Ono would explain in time.
Inside the palace, the grand halls were quiet, save for the distant sounds of preparations. Zazu had been working tirelessly in those last three months, leading up to the wedding and coronation of Haki and Nzuri, the future rulers of Birdstain. The air was thick with anticipation, and the servants were agitated, beginning the preparation of the royal tree and the kingdom itself, ensuring that everything was ready for the grand event.
But despite the bustle of activity, Zazu himself was in his chambers, resting after a long day, as he too have send the royal invitations messages, via the kingdom’s messengers, trained hawks and falcons, to the pridelands’s royal family, for Janja and Jasiri at the outlands, to Yun-Mibu, Badili, Makucha, Fahari and Chuluun at the backlands, and to tree of life’s jackal family, Rani, and a certain lion-jackal hybrid named Maalum. He had retired early after he had completed the last signature of those royal invitations, too tired to even think about the wedding arrangements for a few quiet hours. His wings were tucked beneath him as he relaxed on the ornate cushions of his throne room, his eyes half-closed.
The palace doors creaked open again, this time with greater force. Zazu’s head lifted, his sharp gaze quickly finding the figure that had entered the room. There, flying with purpose, was Ono.
“Ono?” Zazu said, his voice thick with exhaustion but warm with recognition. "What brings you here so late?"
Ono didn’t answer immediately. His gaze was fixed on Zazu, a mixture of pain and resolve in his eyes. The royal chamber was still, save for the faint rustling of the leaves outside, the only sound in the room was the quiet beat of Ono's wings as he hovered in place.
Zazu raised an eyebrow. "What is it, my love? You look... unsettled."
The words felt like a jagged stone in Ono’s throat. His wings faltered slightly, and for a moment, he considered turning away. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not after everything.
"I need to speak with you," Ono finally said, his voice tight. "It’s about Anga... and Kion."
Zazu’s expression shifted, his tired eyes narrowing. "What about them?"
Ono’s voice cracked with emotion as he spoke, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I saw them, Zazu. In the cave. They... they were together. Kion and Anga... they... they mated."
A shocked silence filled the room. Zazu’s wings froze in mid-air, the weight of Ono’s words settling heavily between them. The stillness was suffocating. Zazu stared at Ono, his expression unreadable for a long moment.
"Are you certain?" Zazu asked softly, his voice calm but laced with an edge of disbelief. "Perhaps you misinterpreted what you saw."
Ono shook his head vehemently. "I saw it with my own eyes. They were—" he faltered, his chest tightening. "I don’t know what to do, Zazu. I thought I could trust her. But... she chose him."
Zazu’s gaze softened, and he rose from his resting place, stepping closer to Ono. "Ono, I... I can’t pretend to know what you're going through right now. But you have to understand that sometimes things aren’t what they seem. Anga may have her reasons."
"But what about me, Zazu?" Ono’s voice was raw with emotion. "What about us?"
Zazu sighed deeply, placing a wing gently on Ono’s shoulder. "You are my mate, Ono. And no matter what happens, that will never change. We will face this together."
Tamaa, standing outside the throne room, watched the exchange through a crack in the door. He could sense the tension, and though he had no idea of the full context, he knew that something had shifted between the two. Whatever had transpired between Ono, Anga, and Kion was clearly more complicated than it appeared.
Inside the chamber, Ono blinked back tears, his wings trembling slightly as he leaned into Zazu’s comforting touch. "I don’t know how to move forward from this."
"You don’t have to do it alone," Zazu replied softly, his voice firm but kind. "We’ll figure this out together."
Ono took a deep breath, feeling the weight in his chest ease just a little as he allowed himself to trust Zazu's words. Maybe, just maybe, there was a path forward. But for now, he simply needed to rest.
And so, with his mate by his side, Ono let the exhaustion of the night wash over him. Tomorrow would be a new day—a day for healing, a day to face whatever came next. But tonight, in the stillness of the Tree Palace, they would find solace in each other’s company.
Pridelands:
The soft rustle of leaves was the only sound as Kion and Anga sat in the shadowed corner of the cave, their bodies tense, minds overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions swirling between them. The night air, though cool, felt stifling, heavy with unspoken words. They had shared a moment that neither had planned for, and now it was threatening to unravel everything they had once known.
How did we get here? Kion thought, his golden eyes staring into the dark. How could something so… so simple end up hurting so many?
Anga was perched beside him, her wings folded tightly against her sides. The moonlight filtered through the cracks in the rock, casting faint beams of silver across the cave floor. She remained silent, her eyes fixed on the ground. She, too, was lost in thought, unsure of how to process the events that had taken place. She had never imagined her actions would lead to this, least of all hurting Kion’s mate, Ono. But now, as she looked at Kion beside her, she couldn’t deny the pull they had felt for each other. And the guilt. Oh, the guilt that gnawed at her chest.
“We have to figure this out,” Kion said finally, his voice breaking the silence. “We can’t keep running from this, Anga. It’s going to hurt Ono, and I—I don’t know how to fix it.”
Anga let out a shaky breath, her talons scraping against the stone floor. “I didn’t want this to happen, Kion,” she said quietly. “But it did. I don’t know if I can fix it either.”
Before Kion could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps reached their ears, steady and deliberate. Kion’s heart skipped a beat. There was only one creature whose footsteps would command such a presence.
Simba.
The King of the Pride Lands emerged from the shadows of the trees, his mane glowing softly in the dim moonlight. His golden eyes fixed on Kion first, and then on Anga. He stood tall, his body radiating quiet authority.
“Kion,” Simba’s voice was calm but filled with the weight of a leader. “You’re not on your post. The Kupatana celebrations are not far off, and preparations are already underway.”
Kion stood quickly, his wings ruffling, though there was no anger in his stance. He was simply caught off guard by Simba’s arrival. “I know, Simba,” he said, his voice tight. “I was just… I’m with Anga for now. We have some things to work through.”
Simba observed them both silently for a long moment, his sharp eyes taking in the tension between the two of them. His gaze softened slightly, but there was no mistaking the seriousness of his tone when he spoke again.
“The Kupatana celebrations are important, Kion. They represent unity and strength, and you have a role to play in it. I understand you have… things to work through,” Simba said, his gaze flicking to Anga for a brief moment before returning to Kion. “But this can’t wait forever. The kingdom will need you, Kion.”
Kion nodded slowly, his eyes lowered. “I’ll be there. I just… I need time.”
Simba didn’t push any further, though the disappointment in his eyes was clear. He gave a slight nod of agreement before turning to leave. “Make sure you’re ready. The kingdom is counting on you.”
With that, Simba’s towering figure retreated into the darkness, disappearing as quickly as he had come. Kion exhaled a long breath, his chest tight with the weight of his father’s words. There was a responsibility that couldn’t be ignored, but at this moment, Kion didn’t know how he could face the crowd at the Kupatana festival knowing what had just transpired.
Anga remained still, staring out of the cave’s entrance. The weight of the conversation hung in the air like a heavy storm cloud, and she could feel Kion’s eyes on her.
“Are you alright?” Kion asked after a long moment, his voice softer now, but still tinged with the tension that had marked their earlier exchange.
Anga didn’t look at him immediately. Instead, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “I’m fine. I just… I don’t know what to say, Kion.”
“I don’t know what to say either,” Kion admitted, shaking his head. “But I know we can’t just ignore what’s happened. We have to make it right with Ono.”
“I know,” Anga said quietly. “But I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me.”
Kion was about to respond when the sound of familiar voices cut through the air. His head turned sharply toward the source of the sound, his heart lifting with recognition. Fuli and Azaad were returning from a hunt, their sleek forms appearing through the trees, their claws and teeth stained with the blood of their prey. They were walking side by side, moving with an easy grace that made it seem like they hadn’t just been in the heat of a hunt.
As they drew closer, Fuli was the first to spot Kion and Anga. Her golden eyes narrowed slightly, and she slowed her pace, her keen senses already picking up on the subtle tension between the two birds.
“Well, well,” Fuli’s voice was laced with her usual teasing tone, though there was a faint edge to it. “What’s going on here? You two look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Azaad, walking just behind her, chuckled softly, her amber eyes glinting with curiosity. “Yeah, I thought the Kupatana celebrations were about to start. Kion, you’re usually the first one to be involved in all the preparations. So what’s going on?”
Kion glanced at Anga before responding. He had hoped to avoid this conversation, but Fuli wasn’t one to let things slide.
“We… we need to talk,” Kion began, his voice heavy. “About what happened between Anga and me. It wasn’t planned, Fuli. It just… happened.”
Fuli’s eyes flicked between them, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, without missing a beat, she spoke again, this time with more understanding. “I figured something was off. It’s about Ono, isn’t it?”
Kion’s heart tightened at the mention of Ono’s name. “Yes,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “We didn’t mean for it to happen, but now… now everything’s a mess.”
Azaad, who had been listening quietly, stepped forward. “You two are good at getting yourselves into situations, huh?” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “But whatever happened, you can’t just leave it like this. Ono will have to know, eventually.”
“We don’t want to hurt him,” Anga said, her voice fragile, eyes downcast. “But I don’t know how to make things right.”
Fuli nodded, her expression serious now. “You’ll need to talk to him. And soon. You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. It’s not fair to him, and it’s not fair to either of you.”
Before Kion could respond, his gaze shifted to the riverbank just a short distance away. His eyes widened when he saw a disturbing sight.
There, moving in the shadows near the river, were Makucha and Yun Mibu, both leopards, engaged in an intimate embrace. Their bodies were entwined as they mated beneath the cover of the trees. It wasn’t that Kion was repulsed by the act itself—he understood it was part of nature—but the timing felt too jarring. He didn’t need to see this now, not when his own emotions were already so raw.
“Do you see that?” Kion whispered to Anga, his voice filled with discomfort.
Anga turned her head, her sharp eyes catching the sight of the two leopards. She frowned, her feathers twitching with unease. “Makucha and Yun Mibu... Really?”
The sight was quickly enough to make Kion want to look away, but just then, a small, unexpected sound caught his attention. He glanced upward toward a nearby tree. There, resting against the trunk, was Badili, the young lion who had recently joined the Lion Guard. He was asleep, his limbs sprawled out as he snored lightly, unaware of the mating display just a few paces away.
Kion couldn’t help but shake his head, letting out a small, frustrated sigh. “This is all too much.”
Fuli, noticing Kion’s discomfort, spoke up again. “You two need to get your heads straight before things get any messier. Whether it’s Ono or everything else, this won’t just go away.”
“I know,” Kion replied, his voice tired, but there was a quiet resolve in his eyes. "We’ll deal with it."
With that, the group fell silent for a moment before turning to continue on their way. The journey ahead was uncertain for Kion and Anga, but it was a path they would have to face together—however difficult the steps might be.
Back at Birdstain:
The sky over Birdstain had turned a deep shade of gray, the storm clouds rolling in thick and heavy. The steady patter of raindrops on the stone walls of the Royal Palace echoed throughout the corridors. For the first time in weeks, the scheduled training for the new recruits of the Royal Guard had been temporarily suspended. The heavy rain had turned the training grounds into a slippery mess, making it impossible to continue the drills that were meant to prepare the young birds for their future roles in protecting the kingdom.
Inside the palace, Tamaa, the captain of the Royal Guard, found himself with an unexpected free afternoon. Normally, he would have spent the day with the recruits, teaching them discipline, combat tactics, and strategies. But today, the rain had put a halt to everything, and for once, Tamaa was free to do something other than drill the young guards.
He stood in the grand hall, looking out at the rainstorm through the large arched windows. His mind, usually focused on the Royal Guard’s training, drifted back to the matters that had been weighing on him recently—Ono.
Ono’s situation was becoming more complicated with each passing day. The tension between Ono and Kion, the betrayal with Anga… it was a mess that no one had seen coming, least of all Tamaa. He had known Kion for years, watched him grow from a young cub to the confident leader of the Lion Guard. He had seen the bond Kion shared with Ono, how the two were inseparable, partners in every sense of the word. To see Kion torn like this, struggling with something so deep, it unsettled Tamaa in a way he couldn't ignore. And the fact that Anga was caught up in it too? That only complicated things further.
But this wasn’t the time for his own confusion. Tamaa knew he had to do something to help. He couldn’t stand by and let Ono suffer without trying to be there for him. He deserves a chance to talk, Tamaa thought to himself.
The heavy wooden door to the hall creaked open, and Tamaa turned to find Zazu stepping into the room, his expression as stern as ever, though there was a touch of concern in his sharp blue eyes.
"Tamaa, I see you're not out in the rain with the recruits," Zazu said, a wry smile tugging at the edges of his beak. "Seems the storm has given us a break for now."
Tamaa raised an eyebrow, but his expression softened. "Rain or no rain, the recruits need discipline. But I suppose you’re right—this storm has given me some free time. Something I wasn’t expecting."
Zazu took a step closer, his wings folding neatly at his sides. "Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re not the only one with a rare moment of downtime. But I suspect you’re not here for the rain, are you?"
Tamaa’s gaze shifted toward the windows, his mind clearly elsewhere. "No, Zazu. I’ve been thinking about Ono. We both know what’s going on with him, and it’s not easy to watch. Kion’s hurt, Anga’s caught up in this, and I just… I don’t know how to help. I can’t stand by and do nothing."
Zazu was quiet for a moment, his gaze softening as he considered Tamaa’s words. He had seen the way the royal family—especially Ono—had been affected by everything. It was one thing to be a trusted advisor to the King and Queen, but it was another thing entirely to navigate the emotions and personal conflicts that affected the very core of the kingdom.
"I understand," Zazu said finally, his voice calm. "And I know Ono needs someone right now. Someone to listen, someone who can help him make sense of everything that’s happened."
Tamaa turned toward Zazu, his expression conflicted. "But what do I say to him? It’s not just about him being hurt—this is bigger than that. He’s been betrayed. I’ve seen it in his eyes. He’s struggling, Zazu. He’s not the same, and I don’t know if I can fix it."
Zazu took a deep breath, his feathers rustling slightly as he considered Tamaa’s words. "You’re right, it’s not going to be easy. And I don’t think there’s an easy solution. But sometimes, the best thing we can do is simply be there for them. Let them talk, let them express their pain. And as for the rest of it… well, we’ll figure it out together."
Tamaa nodded slowly. "I can do that. I just don’t want to make things worse for him."
Zazu gave a slight nod, then gave a gentle chuckle. "If I may suggest, perhaps it’s best if I act as the intermediary between you and Ono. I’m not exactly a stranger to the royal family, and sometimes it helps if there’s a bit of distance before two individuals can sit down and have a proper conversation. You might need a little bit of space between you, but I’ll be there to facilitate the discussion."
Tamaa considered Zazu’s suggestion. "You’re right. It might be easier if you help make the first step. I just don’t want him to feel like I’m forcing anything on him."
Zazu smiled, a glint of understanding in his eyes. "I know, Tamaa. That’s why I’ll handle the first part. I’ll talk to Ono and let him know you’re here for him, that you care about what he’s going through. If he’s willing to listen, I’ll bring him to you. And if he needs more time, we can respect that."
Tamaa felt a slight sense of relief settle in his chest. It wasn’t an easy solution, but it was a start. He knew that Ono needed support—he couldn’t let his friend go through this alone.
"Thank you, Zazu," Tamaa said with a grateful nod. "I appreciate it. I just hope Ono knows that I’m not here to judge him. I just want to help."
Zazu’s wings shifted as he took a step back toward the door. "You’re doing the right thing, Tamaa. Now, I’ll go speak with him. You stay here and give him some space. Let him process, and then we’ll take it from there."
As Zazu left the room, Tamaa stood silently for a moment, staring out at the rain. He couldn’t help but think of Ono—of the many years they had spent working together, watching him grow from an eager young bird to the proud, strong mate of Kion. He knew that their friendship was worth fighting for, and this wasn’t the time to stand back. He had to do what he could, even if it meant starting with small steps. If he could help Ono find peace, or at least some clarity, he would do whatever it took.
________________
Meanwhile, across the kingdom, Ono was alone in his quarters, sitting on a nest beside the window. His feathers were still fluffed from the earlier storm, his thoughts scattered and filled with confusion. He had tried to block out the recent events, but it was impossible. Kion’s absence—his distance—hurt more than anything.
Ono was so deep in his thoughts that he barely noticed when Zazu entered his room. The bright blue bird’s arrival was unmistakable, though. He stepped lightly into the space, his wings folded at his sides, and his beak held in a neutral expression.
“Ono,” Zazu said gently, his voice soft but carrying a hint of authority. "I know you’ve been going through a lot, and I think it’s time you and Tamaa had a talk. He’s concerned about you. He wants to help."
Ono’s head jerked up at the sound of Tamaa’s name. He hadn’t expected Zazu to come to him with such an offer. His eyes were filled with suspicion, but also pain. "Tamaa?" Ono repeated, as if the very thought of Tamaa reaching out to him seemed too much to process.
"I understand how hard this has been for you," Zazu continued, "but I believe Tamaa genuinely wants to be there for you, to listen. He won’t judge you, Ono. He just wants to help."
Ono shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flicking away. "I… I don’t know if I’m ready to talk to anyone yet. Not about this. It’s just too much."
Zazu tilted his head slightly, his feathers rustling with understanding. "I get it. But you don’t have to face it alone. If you’re willing, Tamaa will be here to listen—whenever you're ready."
Ono swallowed hard, his heart heavy in his chest. He wasn’t sure what to feel anymore. He had always trusted Kion, had always believed in their bond. But now… now he was left questioning everything.
“I’ll think about it,” Ono muttered quietly.
Zazu nodded before taking his leave, his final words lingering in the air. "Whenever you're ready, Ono. Take your time, but remember: you're not alone."
As Zazu exited, Ono sat silently for a moment longer, staring out into the storm. The rain continued to fall, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to face this storm alone.
Family:
The heavy rain that had drenched Birdstain for hours had finally tapered off, leaving a humid, heavy stillness in the air. The storm’s intensity had mirrored the emotional turbulence inside the palace. The royal family had been consumed by the fallout from the recent events between Ono, Kion, and Anga. The first signs of trouble had been hard to ignore, but no one had fully grasped the weight of what was happening until now. The eldest of the royal siblings—Haki, Genet, and Jiho—had returned from their patrol early that morning, only to find the kingdom filled with whispers of the emotional crisis unfolding within their family.
They had seen Kion’s behavior firsthand—his withdrawal, the distance between him and Ono—and it was impossible to ignore the undercurrent of tension between the two. And now, with the rain gone and the skies clearing, the siblings knew it was time to take matters into their own wings. They didn’t want to jump to conclusions or act impulsively; they wanted to understand the full picture before involving their parents, King Zazu and his mate Ono.
“It doesn’t feel right to go straight to them,” Haki said quietly, his falcon-hawk hybrid wings fluttering as he walked alongside his brothers and sister. The tall, commanding figure of the eldest prince was a stark contrast to the more nimble and lithe postures of his siblings. “We don’t have all the facts. We need to hear it from someone who knows exactly what happened—someone like Tamaa.”
Genet, who was known for his calculating mind and sharp black feathers, nodded in agreement. His yellow eyes gleamed in the dim light of the castle. “Tamaa’s been there from the start. He knows more than anyone. We’ll get the full story from him before going to our parents. They’ll expect us to understand what’s going on before we confront them.”
Jiho, the youngest and most neutral of the trio—his hornbill-egret hybrid form a contrast to the others—shrugged slightly. “That makes sense. I don’t think we can do much until we have a clearer picture. Once we know, we’ll know what to say.”
The three of them made their way through the grand corridors of the palace, passing over the stone bridges and down into the training grounds. There, Tamaa was preparing to leave for the camp where the new recruits were being trained. He was gathering his equipment, his heavy wings tucked behind him as he adjusted his armor, his eyes scanning the sky for any sign of the storm’s remnants.
“Haki, Genet, Jiho,” Tamaa greeted them, his expression as calm and controlled as always. “I didn’t expect to see you three out here so soon. Is everything well?”
Haki stepped forward, his posture open but serious. “We need to talk, Tamaa. We’ve heard bits and pieces, but we don’t know the full story. Can you fill us in on what’s really going on with Ono and Kion?”
Tamaa paused, his face showing a momentary flicker of uncertainty before he nodded slowly. He gestured for them to sit, his voice low and serious as he spoke. “It’s a complicated situation. Kion and Ono were close, very close—partners, in every sense. But recently, Kion’s been torn. He and Anga have… become involved in a way that neither of them intended. Their bond turned into something more, and it caused a rift between Kion and Ono.”
Genet leaned forward slightly, his expression sharp as he absorbed the information. “So, Kion betrayed Ono?” he asked, his tone neutral, though it carried a hint of judgment. “How could he do that?”
Tamaa sighed, his eyes heavy with the weight of the situation. “Yes, in a sense. But I think it wasn’t about betrayal at first. Kion didn’t plan for this. But once it happened, the guilt… the confusion—it was too much for him. And Anga… she was caught up in it too. Now, Kion doesn’t know where he stands. And Ono… he’s hurt. He feels abandoned. He can’t understand why Kion did this, why he didn’t confide in him.”
Haki folded his wings thoughtfully, his tone moderating as he considered the situation. “I see. This is complicated, but I think Ono has the right to feel hurt. But Kion needs to be held accountable too. Trust isn’t something that comes easily. If Kion wants to fix this, he needs to show that he understands the consequences of his actions. But I’m not sure just walking away from this is the right choice. I think they can still rebuild something, if Kion’s willing.”
Genet’s eyes narrowed. “You’re right, Haki. But forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. If Ono can’t move on from this, he has every right to let go. Sometimes, walking away is the only way to heal. If he stays in this toxic situation, he’ll only hurt more.”
Jiho, who had been listening quietly, his hornbill-egret hybrid feathers ruffling slightly in the breeze, added his thoughts. “I’m not sure where I stand on this. I think it’s something Ono needs to decide for himself. No one can force him to forgive Kion or Anga. But we can’t let him run from it either. At some point, he has to face it.”
Tamaa nodded as he took in their perspectives. “You’re all right in some way. This situation is going to require patience, understanding, and most importantly, communication. Kion and Ono both need to talk, to listen. But at the same time, they have to be prepared for the possibility that the relationship may not return to what it was.”
After a few moments of reflection, Haki gave a quiet but firm nod. “I think we should talk to our parents, but I want to understand this better first. We need their support, but we have to be ready with our own thoughts before we involve them.”
Tamaa agreed, but added, “Be careful with Ono. He’s in a fragile state right now, and rushing him might do more harm than good. If you plan to talk to him, let him come to his own decision about what happens next.”
With that settled, the three siblings thanked Tamaa for his time, and as the sky outside darkened with the coming night, they made their way to Zazu’s nest room.
________________
Zazu’s nest was quiet, nestled high up in the palace where the stars twinkled through the open windows. The old king of Birdstain had had a long day, dealing with matters of state and overseeing preparations for the upcoming Kupatana celebrations. He had finally settled into his nest, and the steady rhythm of his breathing suggested that he was deep in sleep when the three princes entered his room.
Zazu stirred as they approached, blinking his bright blue eyes open. His usual sharp gaze softened when he saw his children standing before him.
“Haki, Genet, Jiho,” Zazu greeted them, his voice hoarse with sleep. “What is it? Has something happened?”
“We need to talk to you, Father,” Haki said, his voice calm but serious. “It’s about Ono, Kion, and what’s been going on. We don’t have the full picture, but we think it’s time we figured out what’s really happening.”
Zazu sat up slowly, his wings rustling as he adjusted his position. The weight of his years had taught him to be patient with his children, knowing they had their own ways of understanding things. But he also knew this was serious.
“I see,” Zazu said, rubbing his eyes with his wing. “You’re right. I’ve been too caught up in the preparations for Kupatana to properly understand the full extent of what’s been going on between them. But from what I gather, Kion and Ono are at an impasse, and it’s causing more trouble than either of them expected.”
Genet spoke next, her voice sharp. “We need to know what you think, Father. What do we do? Kion betrayed Ono’s trust. But if Ono can’t forgive him, is there any point in holding on?”
Zazu’s eyes softened as he considered his children’s words. “Forgiveness is a complicated thing. It’s not easy for anyone involved. Kion’s actions were wrong, there’s no question. But at the same time, no one is perfect. Relationships are built on trust, yes, but they also require understanding and a willingness to move forward. It’s not something you can fix overnight.”
Jiho, ever the neutral one, added, “But can it be fixed? If Ono can’t move past it, can they rebuild what they had?”
Zazu exhaled, his feathers ruffling as he looked at each of them. “I believe that if both Kion and Ono are willing, it can be fixed. But they need to communicate. They need to understand each other’s pain, their fears, and the consequences of their actions. It may take time, but I have faith that with the right support, they can find their way back to each other.”
The three siblings exchanged glances, their resolve strengthening. It wasn’t going to be easy, but they had a path forward.
“We’ll talk to Ono,” Haki said firmly. “But we need him to understand that if there’s any hope of healing, he has to listen and give Kion a chance to explain himself. Otherwise, they’ll both just keep suffering.”
Zazu nodded. “You’re right. But remember, you can’t force him to forgive. It has to come from him.”
With their father’s blessing, the three siblings left Zazu’s nest room, their minds set on what needed to be done. They were ready to face Ono and help him take the first steps toward rebuilding the broken bond between him and Kion.
When they arrived at Ono’s nest room, they found him perched high, preparing to take flight—perhaps back to the Pridelands, perhaps to escape the pain that weighed on his heart. But as he noticed them, his expression softened, though his eyes still carried the pain of betrayal.
“Ono,” Haki spoke first, his tone gentle but firm. “We need to talk. We understand that you’re hurt, but we also believe that if you want to fix this, you have to give Kion a chance.”
Genet added, “It’s not going to be easy. But sometimes, moving forward means facing the pain and choosing to heal. It’s your decision, but we believe it’s worth a try.”
Jiho’s voice was quieter, but just as earnest. “You’re not alone in this. If you want to rebuild this, we’ll support you.”
Ono looked at them in silence for a long time. The weight of their words hung heavy in the air. He had been thinking about it for days, and now, hearing their advice, he knew that they were right. He could stay stuck in his anger, or he could give it a chance to heal.
“I’ll try,” Ono finally said, his voice steady but filled with uncertainty. “I’ll give it a chance. I can’t promise it will be easy, but I’ll try.”
And in that moment, a small glimmer of hope shone in Ono’s eyes. It wasn’t the end of the story, but it was a beginning—a chance to rebuild, to heal, and to move forward.
Back in the pridelands…
Back in the Pridelands, the skies were clearer than they had been in days. The heavy rains that had swept across the neighboring Birdstain had yet to reach the vast savannah, but the dampness from the storm’s aftermath still clung to the earth. The air smelled fresh, with the scent of wet soil mixing with the faint breeze from the distant ocean. It was a time of change, and despite the ongoing preparations for Kupatana’s celebrations, a sense of unease lingered in the Pridelands—an unease that many, including the royal family, had yet to address.
Kion had been restless for days, his thoughts clouded with guilt and confusion over his actions toward Ono. What had started as an innocent bond with Anga had become something far more complicated, leaving Kion with feelings of regret that he hadn’t fully understood at the time. He hadn’t expected the fallout to be so severe, and now, seeing how distant Ono had become, Kion realized just how deep a wound he had caused.
“I’ve messed up,” Kion muttered to himself as he walked slowly across the savannah, the tall grass brushing against his legs. His golden mane ruffled in the breeze, and his pace was slow, his head low with shame. He hadn’t spoken to his father, Simba, or his mother, Nala, about what had happened yet. He didn’t even know how to approach them. But the guilt gnawed at him, and the weight of his own mistakes seemed almost too heavy to bear. He had betrayed Ono in ways he didn’t fully grasp at the time, and now, he was paying the price.
His mind replayed the events with Ono over and over.
I should have told him… Kion thought bitterly. I should have told him before it went this far.
but the uncertainty still weighed heavily on his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was too late to fix things, but he knew that trying—making the effort—was the only way forward.
________________
Elsewhere in the Pridelands, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Simba sat atop Pride Rock, his eyes scanning the vast expanse of the savannah below. The kingdom was alive with the sounds of animals preparing for the Kupatana festival, yet his mind was elsewhere—centered on his son, Kion, and the turmoil he could see within him.
Simba’s thoughts wandered to his own bond with Nala, the strength of their relationship, the trust they had built over years, and the challenges they had overcome together. What would I do if I lost that trust? Simba wondered, the thought sharp and painful. But now, it seemed his son was facing a challenge of his own.
He sighed heavily, the wind pulling at his golden mane. The preparations for Kupatana had kept him busy, but his instincts told him that Kion needed him more than anything right now. The young lion needed someone to talk to, someone who could help him navigate the confusion and pain that clouded his heart.
Simba’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned to see Nala walking toward him, her eyes full of understanding.
“You’re thinking about Kion again, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice soft and steady, like the gentle rhythm of the savannah breeze.
Simba nodded. “I don’t know what’s going on with him, Nala. He’s been distant. And now, I can see it in his eyes—something’s wrong. I think it’s because of Ono.”
Nala sat down beside him, her expression sympathetic as she gazed out at the kingdom. “I’m worried too. But we can’t rush him. He has to come to us when he’s ready. We’ve learned from our own struggles that sometimes it’s not about having all the answers right away. Sometimes it’s about giving him the space he needs to figure it out.”
Simba looked at her, his gaze softening. “I just wish I knew how to help him. I don’t want him to make the same mistakes I did when I was his age. I don’t want him to lose someone who matters to him.”
Nala’s eyes were firm but gentle. “You can’t control everything, Simba. But you can be there for him when he’s ready. Just like I was there for you when you needed me.”
Simba let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing as he nodded. “You’re right. I just want to make sure he knows he’s not alone. That he has our support, no matter what happens.”
As the stars began to shine in the evening sky, Simba and Nala sat together in silence, the weight of their thoughts pressing on their hearts. They knew their son had to face this challenge in his own time and on his own terms. But they were ready to stand by him, ready to offer their love and support when Kion was ready to seek it.
In the days that followed, the tension between Kion and Ono continued to loom over both the Pridelands and Birdstain. Kion couldn’t shake the image of Ono’s face when he’d realized what had happened—the betrayal, the confusion, the heartache. Each time Kion saw a familiar face, whether it was a friend or a family member, the weight of the situation became even more unbearable.
But he couldn’t avoid it forever.
One afternoon, as Kion stood on a small hill just outside the main kingdom, he felt a sudden urge to move—to act. His guilt, his confusion, and his need for closure all hit him at once, like a wave crashing against the shore. He couldn’t keep running from this. He had to face the truth, no matter how much it hurt.
The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows over the land as Kion made his decision. He would go to Birdstain. He would speak to Ono, and he would try to explain—to apologize, to listen, and to show that he wanted to make things right.
But as he turned to head back toward the heart of the Pridelands, his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. His heart skipped a beat as he turned to see his mother, Nala, walking toward him with her calm, knowing expression.
“Kion,” she said, her voice soft. “I know what you’re thinking.”
Kion hesitated, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to tell her everything, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he simply nodded, his golden eyes downcast.
“I need to fix this, Mom,” he said quietly. “I need to make things right with Ono. I know I hurt him, and I can’t stand it. But I don’t know if he’ll even want to listen to me.”
Nala’s expression softened as she stepped closer, her wings wrapping around him in a comforting embrace. “Kion,” she said gently, “I know you want to fix things. But you can’t do it all on your own. Ono has to be willing to listen too. And the most important thing you can do right now is give him the space he needs. Let him come to you in his own time.”
Kion nodded, though a part of him still felt restless. “But what if I wait too long? What if it’s too late?”
Nala pulled back slightly, looking into her son’s eyes with a steady gaze. “You can’t control everything, Kion. All you can do is offer your heart, show him that you’re truly sorry, and give him the time to process everything. Healing takes time.”
Kion stood still for a moment, taking in his mother’s words. He knew she was right. There was no rush. He couldn’t force Ono to forgive him. All he could do was wait for the right moment to show that he was ready to make things right.
With a sigh, Kion lowered his head slightly, feeling a sense of quiet resolve settle over him. He had to trust in Ono’s strength, and in his own ability to atone for the wrongs he had committed. He had no control over the outcome, but he could be patient—and, for now, that was enough.
“I’ll wait,” Kion said, his voice steady.
Nala smiled softly, her wing brushing against his back. “I know you will. And when the time is right, you’ll both find a way forward. You just have to believe that.”
As they stood there together, the stars began to shimmer above them, the night sky a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there was always the potential for new beginnings.
Half of the way to the pridelands:
As Ono continued flying through the damp skies, he tried to shake the dark thoughts that clung to him like the persistent drizzle below. The weight of the situation was almost unbearable. He had heard the distant calls of drongos and hornbills in the distance, the sounds of his kingdom, but they did little to ease the tension within him.
King Zazu’s words echoed in his mind: Kion was always free with his love, his spirit too wild to be bound by any one relationship. That thought was something Ono had come to accept over time. Kion’s heart was expansive, open to many, and his love for others wasn’t limited by tradition or expectation. Kion had always been open about his relationships, whether it was with the leopards like Makucha, Yun-Mibu, Badili, and Chuluun, the hyenas like Jasiri and Janja, or even the cheetahs, Fuli and Azaad. They were all a part of Kion’s world, and Ono respected that. It was a different way of living, one that focused on trust, freedom, and mutual respect, rather than possessiveness or jealousy. Even when Ono himself had mated with his best friends Kion and Kovu, it wasn’t out of obligation but out of love and the understanding that bonds could transcend species, shape, and tradition.
And yet, when it came to Anga… everything felt different.
Anga was the only one who had ever truly captured his heart. The only one who had made him feel complete, from the first time their paths had crossed. Her love had always been something he cherished, something he trusted. She had been his constant, his companion through every trial, the one who understood him better than anyone else. He had never doubted her loyalty to him, nor had he questioned the strength of their connection. But now? Now, he found himself questioning everything.
Why would she betray me like this?
Ono’s heart twisted with confusion and hurt. Kion was different, he reasoned, he was always free in his affections, always sharing his love with others. He could accept that, because he knew Kion's heart was open in ways that few others could understand. But Anga? Anga had been the one who had loved him with such devotion. The bond they shared had felt like something more than just affection—it was a partnership, one built on understanding, trust, and deep emotional connection. So why, then, had she allowed herself to be drawn into Kion’s orbit in this way? What had made her slip, and why hadn’t she told him about it?
What hurt even more was that she hadn’t come to him first. She hadn’t tried to explain, to talk about it. Instead, she’d let things unfold, and now, Ono was left with a wound he couldn’t ignore.
He thought back to the times he had shared with Kion and Anga. The three of them had always been close, a unit in their own right. Kion had been free in his choices, but Anga had always been the one to stay beside him. So why now? Why did Anga feel the need to step outside of their established bond and share herself with Kion?
Ono had never been the jealous type. He had always respected the way Kion lived his life, and he had learned to understand that love could take many forms. He knew that love wasn’t always about exclusivity; it was about trust and respect. Kion had made that clear to him, and he had accepted it. But Anga? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why wasn’t she content with the love we shared?
As the miles stretched between him and his destination, Ono began to process everything more deeply. Perhaps it wasn’t just a betrayal in the traditional sense. Perhaps Anga hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he was struggling to see it any other way. Maybe she had thought she was doing something that was acceptable in the world they lived in—a world where freedom of choice was honored—but it didn’t feel right to him. It didn’t feel like the Anga he knew.
And yet… Was there a way back from this?
His mind drifted toward the possibility of reconciliation. Could they—the three of us—find a way to make it work again? Could they restore what had been broken, or would the tension between them tear them apart forever? He didn’t know if he was ready to forgive Anga yet, but the thought of losing her, of losing both her and Kion, was unbearable.
The question now was how to move forward. Could they work through the hurt and betrayal, or would this change things permanently? The idea of a threesome relationship—something he never thought he would consider—was beginning to take root in his mind. If Kion could love freely, if Anga could find space for both him and Kion in her life, was there a possibility for all of them to exist together in a new dynamic?
Ono didn’t know. He was still too hurt, still too angry at the way things had played out. But part of him wanted to believe that, with time and understanding, they could rebuild what had been fractured.
"I have to hear her out," Ono muttered softly to himself, as if saying the words would somehow give him the strength to face what was ahead.
Zazu, ever the perceptive one, glanced over at him with a knowing look. "It’s never easy when trust is tested, Ono. But if you truly want to move forward, you’ll need to be open to listening to Anga’s side of things."
Tamaa, who had been quietly listening, spoke up, his voice steady and calm. "Love isn’t always easy to define, and sometimes it takes us to places we never thought we'd go. If you want to heal, you’ll need to be willing to understand why this happened, not just the fact that it did."
Both the hornbill, and the drongo, were only accompanying the egret, they would return to Birdstain soon.
Ono nodded absently. Their words made sense, but they didn’t take away the ache that was gnawing at him. He knew he couldn’t avoid the conversation with Anga any longer. The air between them had to be cleared, one way or another. Whether they could rebuild their relationship—whether it would ever be the same—was something only time, and their willingness to confront the truth, could determine.
As the Pridelands came into view, Ono took a deep breath. He was ready, or at least, he would be when the time came to face Anga and try to make sense of everything that had happened.
