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Um this was a request story for lionkinglover12 So um. yeah! >///< Its got inanimate transformation and stuff and um... enjoy?
All characters and Pridelands belong to Disney.
Please Enjoy!!!!
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A Can of Royalty
The pridelands have always stretched far, from the Watering Hole to the Elephant graveyard, to Antelope canyon. Simba had been shown much of it, either with his father or by exploration with Nala. But he had never seen anything so…so….black. It smelled horrible, like a rotting corpse, but was as hard as Priderock, and soaked up the heat so much better. And every once in a while, a monster would come running down it. A monster-filled with two legs in its belly. The furless animals that sometimes came to their Pridelands, flashing blue sun’s in their eyes and screaming, shouting, scaring off all their prey.
His father, Mufasa had always said. Never attack a twolegs. They are much like a pride, only many times greater. If you hurt one, the rest will follow and hunt you out of extinction. Simba shook himself out of his thoughts, then yelped as he felt a maw closing on his scruff, yanking him away from the thunderpath, just as a monster passed.
Mufasa sat Simba down, glaring at his son. “I told you to be careful! The monsters wouldn’t care if you were charging elephant! They’d still run you down!”
Simba yipped, closing his eyes and keeping his head low. “S-sorry dad. I was just thinking.”
The elder lion sighed. “Clearly you weren’t. Maybe it was too presumptuous, thinking you were old enough to see the twoleg den.”
Simba perked up a bit. “A den? Like, Pride rock? How do they get their monsters up it! What’s it look like? Can I see? Can I can I! Pleeeeeease!”
The little lion cub pawed at his father's mane. Mufasa had to hold back a chuckle, setting a paw on Simba’s head, pushing him to the ground. “ Oh, I don’t knooooow. Can you behave yourself? And listen to me?”
Simba shot back up, batting away his father's paw with his whole body. “Yes! I can behave! I’ll listen! So lets goooooooo!” the little lion cub was headbutting the elder lion. Trying his best to push him off his haunches. This time, Mufasa couldn’t hold back his laughter.
“Alright, alright. Let's go. But stay close. And watch the Thunderpath. Monsters never leave it, but sometimes they spit of rocks that’ll cut you to ribbons.” He said, starting down the path that led along the thunderpath. Simba happily trotted after, almost bouncing with each step.
The two lions came to a crossing, like a river, only with thunder paths. This path was older, hidden in the grass, and had all but lost its stench. Along its path, broken pieces of the thunderpath stone laid strewn.
Mufasa turned down this Thunderpath, walking right against it as it led in between the trees. Almost a small jungle in the dry of the savannah. It felt almost magical, Like the home Timon and Pumba had used, but that was far from the pridelands. There was a trickle of water, the sound of a fall, and wood creaking?
As they entered the clearing, Simba gasped. A river ran by, probably leading all the way to the watering hole. Alongside it, solid stone walls rose up, vertically. On top was a slanted stone, made of many smaller stones, several of which had fallen off to the ground. They were smooth and curved, like pebbles in a river, but were so dry, it felt like they could soak up a whole pond. Above those, were pillars of stone, gray and rising up high into the sky. Beside the sprawling twoleg den of stone, was a round thing, with many notches, sticking itself into the water. As the water flowed the wooden thing spun, creaking every few moments. The whole place looked bigger than the Priderock they had all stayed at.
Simba was giddy, bouncing on his paws as they approached. The scent of something sweet was emanating from the massive den. Mufasa put a paw in front of his son. “Wait Simba, something is different. That hole was never there.” He said, pointing a paw towards a piece of the stone that seemed to flap in the wind. It was currently pushed inwards, inside of the den, leading into the darkness inside.
The lion cub was shivering with delight. A new exploration, he could tell Nala and then… He let out a yelp as he was once again picked up by the scruff, Mufasa carrying him back away from the den. “Wait! Can’t we see what's in there?”
Mufasa shook his head, setting the lion down. “It could be dangerous, what if there are monsters in there. Or twolegs? Or something worse?”
Simba growled. “And what if there isn't! We can bring that sweet smell back to pride rock! We can show mom and Nala! You said monsters didn’t leave the thunderpath, so we should be safe inside! Besides, you told me everything the light touched, And I clearly see the light touching the twoleg den, so it's mine!”
Mufasa put a paw to his muzzle. He was also intrigued by the smell, but his son’s arrogance was starting to drive him up a wall. “It's not yours yet. It’s mine.” He muttered. Simba let out a shout.
“So we’re going in?”
“I am going in. You can stay out here until I say it's safe.” Mufasa said, using a paw to force Simba to sit.
“Aw, but daaaaaad” the lion cub whined.
“No buts! If it's safe, Then you can explore it with me. We don’t want a repeat of the Elephant graveyard, do we?” The elder lion said with a growl. Simba gulped and nodded up. “Good. Now stay here.”
Mufasa turned, and walked through the stone flap, disappearing into the darkness.
The sweet smell grew stronger as he walked forward. Cold stone filled the room in odd formations. It almost looked like the same stone on the monsters, but older, and red in places. Along the ground were smaller shiny stones. Weak ones that crumpled under his paws like leaves, albeit, stronger than normal leaves. Mufasa crouched low, stalking through the dark. He found a stone ramp, leading up to what looked like a twoleg made path. Notched with different square stones, along with a circle in the middle of each. It was pretty soft under paw. Down the path, was a small tube, like a vine, that was leaking some form of golden liquid. The sweet smell was coming from that.
Mufasa took a paw step forward, before hearing a small shriek of laughter, that was quickly stopped with an oof sound. Hyenas. Of course, they would be in a disreputable place like this. He turned to leave, before bumping muzzle to muscle with his brother. The black mane and scar across his eye a dead giveaway.
“Scar? What are you doing here?” Mufasa whispered in his ear.
Scar gave a long, almost cheeky look. “I saw you and the prince heading out and figured I'd ...tag along, just to be sure nothing happened. He really has you around his paws, doesn’t he, your Highness…” He said, hissing the end of highness like a serpent. He twirled his paw around, almost admiring it. “But now that you're here, you can’t very well leave, right? What if the hyenas followed you and cornered poor Simba. Better to chase them off now I suppose.” He said with a long, almost dramatic sigh.
Mufasa gave Scar a long look. “I guess ...that makes a little sense,” he growled out, looking up at the cold stone branches that stretched into the air. “Can you chase them down from the twoleg contraption? I’m not sure something that flimsy looking could take my weight. You get them down here, I’ll do the rest.”
Scar grinned, almost a dark grin. His face really did twist in the weirdest of ways. “I was just thinking the same thing. You wait right here, I’ll go get those… beasts, and lead them down to you.” He said as he padded up to the branches. They swayed, the vines above shaking, but it held strong. Scar disappeared up among the branches and mess that was the twoleg pathway up. And no sooner had he, than a loud bang, and a whirring sound started up.
Mufasa looked around, poised to attack. “Scar?!.. Scar?! Where are you?” Mufasa shouted up. A glowing, one-eyed grin showed from above, joined by three others.
Scar leaned down until Simba could see his face in the light that spilled from the holes. “Long live the king, brother.” He said, before pushing on a branch with a knob on it. Two pieces of stone swung up, slamming around the king before he could make a move.
Mufasa groaned The stones had him trapped, his paws raised, his body on his haunches. What was this thing? There was a hissing sound as the stones seemed to squeeze tighter. His paws pulling into his body, his joints folding in, rounding out. His head was forced to tilt up, up into the strobing twoleg sun. with each flash, it felt like he lost a bit of something. What he’s not sure. But something…. From Scar’s point of view, the stones pulled away, the king held in his pose. His paws were up, almost like a begging twoleg mutt, his haunches down, his tail curled around his paws. He was now round. Like a stone, more specifically, like the stones that littered the ground around him. And best of all, he never tried to move. Mufasa didn’t know how to move now, something Scar learned after several...tests with his hyena’s.
Scar pointed at Shenzi. “Next step. NOW, before he can recover.” He snarled. Shenzei burst into a fit of giggles, tugging on the branch with the green knot on top, and the twoleg path under Mufasa started moving. Another hiss sounded, this one more like a watery hiss. Two snakes from either side rose up, spinning around the lion and spraying a silvery liquid that quickly hardened. Where before he forgot to move, now he really couldn’t. He was caught in a tight embrace, like a mother hugging her cub. He couldn't escape..didn’t want to escape. It felt.. Nice. That what the sun told him. It was cool, and comforting, for him to not have to move, his paws frozen forever, his tail not even getting to twitch. The two snakes rose up and out of view.
Banzai grabbed the blue knotted branch with both paws. “My turn, Your highness!” He shouted, devolving into another fit of laughter as he fell backward. The path moved once again, and a large stone lowered from above, a small hole in the middle. It cracked open, like a jaw, before snapping down on the helpless lion. Again the hissing was heard, white steam rising from it as it clamped down around the former king. The whole contraption shuddered for a moment, before opening. The king was no longer any bigger than a cub. He had been compressed down, small enough to fit in the round holes that filled the path, and thus, he was locked into the hole under him. Mufasa felt pure elation. He could smell that sweet liquid up next. He was ready to be filled, to be topped off with the delicious fizz. To be used….
Ed grabbed the red branch, chewing it in his maw before Shenzei smacked him on the head. Ed yanked the branch down, and once again, the path moved, until the vine was directly over the lion...can. It lowered into his waiting maw, locking in place in his jaws, before jetting out the sweet mango flavored fizzing water. Mufasa was over the moon, he could feel it filling him up. Raising in his round body, bubbling, hissing. The delicious juice filling him to the brim. Just behind his throat, before the vine pulled away. It was too soon. He wanted more, he could still fit more. How would he make them happy if he was half empty? The lion let out a soft, gurgly whine.
Scar stood above, waiting at the last branch. His hyenas had fallen into a pile of laughing mutts, and for once, he couldn’t blame them. With one last push. The king, his brother, would be gone for good. And so, with the most sadistic smile he could manage, he tugged down the white branch. His muzzle opened with glee as a round stone slammed down on top of the former lion, crushing his muzzle down. it pushed, and pushes until his muzzle was past where his head used to be. Flattened, with his fangs poking out. Just as sharp, his nose as a knob. With a pull, those fangs would puncture the seal, letting the golden liquid flow. And ooh how Mufasa couldn’t wait for that moment. For him to be able to spill his essence down a waiting predator’s gullet. Here their towels of joy as they emptied him. It was what he lived for, like the good little can he was.
The conveyor stopped, the can rolling off, down a ramp into Scar’s waiting paws. The lion was shaped like a can, but had the look of a lion, beginning on his haunches, his muzzle up, ready to pour his juice out. Royalty Mango was emblazoned on the front, not that Scar could read it. Nor did he really care. Scar idly toyed with the can, rolling it under his paw. He could crush his brother now, the former king of the pride. The strongest lion was now helpless under his paws. Unable to, unwilling even, to try to fight back. Scar didn’t even know if he was still alive in there. Probably not after all the twoleg contraptions had done.
Scar felt the liquid sloshing inside the former lion, the twoleg Juicestone. The delicious drink that brought him to this place. He wanted the juice inside his brother...no, inside the twoleg stone. But first, there was one more heir that had to be dealt with. Scar’s stomach let out a small grumble. The extra juice wouldn’t hurt either.
Simba was standing outside, right where his father had left him ...laughable. He was already exploring around, pawing as bits of twoleg junk, trying to peek into the stone flap, rolling around stones of the old thunderpath to makes a pile. You can’t leave a cub all alone and expect him to behave. Everyone knew that, so Simba figured it was his father’s fault for forgetting. A loud sound came from the twoleg den, almost like thunder ...or..wind? It was hard to tell from out here.
Simba peeked his head inside, unable to see anything in the darkness. He pawed at the ground in frustration. If he went in and got caught by his dad, it would be a one-way trip back to Priderock. The little cub sighed, turning away from the door. And then a paw landed on his shoulder, Simba turned ready to great his father, only to see the black mane and scared eye of his uncle.
“Uncle Scar! You’re here too? Have you seen my dad?” Simba asked, bouncing around.
His uncle let out a soft groan, a moaning wail. “Oh Simba, It's just dreadful! You’re father, He’s been cornered by the hyenas. Oh, I wish I could help, but I'm nowhere near as ...” Scar didn’t even get to finish before Simba had darted between his paws, running into the twoleg den. Well, that was easy. Would that poor boy ever learn...well, guess not after today. Scare smirked to himself, padding in behind the lion cub, quietly and silently.
Simba had dashed in, running full speed on the hard stone floors. The awkward stone structures were moving, whirring, thundering down on empty air. That must’ve been the sound he heard earlier!. But where was his…?His thoughts stopped as he smelled that sweet scent from earlier. Stronger, much stronger. He heard a dripping sound, the soft plop of water on water. Only, this had an added fizz sound to it. Looking around, Simba didn’t hear any hyenas or his father’s angry yowls. Was his uncle pranking him again? Well, if there was no danger… it wouldn’t hurt to taste it... Right?
Simba climbed up the ramp. A much smaller one than the one in the front. Lying in a puddle, leaking from a vine was the mango scented liquid, bubbling as it Pumba was bathing in it. At first, the thought turned Simba away from it, but then the sweet scent pulled him closer. Just a taste, it couldn’t hurt, right? He lapped at the puddle, and his senses went into shock. The sweetness, the fizziness. It had his eyes watering, but it was so good. He kept lapping at the puddle, drops plaping on his head, getting his fur sticky, but he didn’t care, it was too good, but then he realized, there was more where the drips come from.
He looked up at the vine, a drip smacking him on the nose. Simba licked the drop off his nose, before rising up on his hind legs, grabbing the vine in the forepaws, and gently slipping it into his muzzle. The drips were infrequent but constant. But he wanted more. Simba shook at the vine, trying to get more out. From up above, Banzai and Shenzi were watching the lion cub. The poor little thing didn’t even know what was about to happen to him. Banzai couldn’t help but let out a giggle, before covering his maw with his paws, Shenzi glaring at him.
Simba heard a soft laugh from above. Hyen-? His thoughts stopped as a clang was heard from above, and a rush of the fizzy juice slipped into his maw.
The drink was so good, he could feel it bubbling in his belly, filling him up slowly. Simba let out a soft purr as the cold drink emptied into his belly. His paws dropping to his sides. There was another clang, and then a bright flashing sun appeared above him. Simba was entranced, suckling down his juice as he stared up. Losing himself in the changing colors, the flashing beams. He hardly even noticed as another sound, like a rushing wind, was right by his ear. Then with a loud slam, the lion was crushed between two round stones, all the while, his muzzle still suckling down the juice. Steam expended from the cracks, as the rocks pulled away. His eyes were glazed, looking up, flat on his body, paws pinned down, and tail pinned against his back. The lion was in much the same position as his father before. A flat round rock, not willing to move. It felt too good, too right.
Scar looked on, from the end of a twoleg stone branch. His muzzle twisted into a smirk as he watched the young cub be shaped by the twoleg stones. His body was smooth now, smooth and unmoving, but the cub was still suckling on the vine, like a newborn kit. He really was an annoying brat, and soon, he would be rid of his nephew, just like his father. Scar tapped his juice stone with a claw as he watched on.
The juice from his vine started to peter out, Once again barely dripping into his maw, making the Simba whine. He wanted more, needed more. A loud hiss surrounded him, as a liquid, silvery clear, poured from above. Covering the lion, working its way down his fur. A small round rock with a hole pushed down around him, sliding down the vine, then down the lion, spreading the droplets of the liquid out, giving him an even coating. As soon as the rock rose back up, his vine started spouting liquid once more. Simba let out a sigh of relief. It felt so good to be filled up. To be topped off. His body creaked as it dried, sounding much like the rocks above him. A hollow creaky clang, as the juice, filled him up. It kept going, pouring more and more, rising up inside him; Simba was in paradise.
From outside the contraption, it looked like a small, steady rain fell on the cub, his fur was turning sleek and shiny, glinting with the flashing light of the twoleg sun. then another stone covered the lion, and any globules of the silvery liquid were wiped away. Leaving his fur smooth and hard. There was no turning back for the former now.
The Vine never stopped pouring it heavenly sweetness until it was literally pouring from the little lion's maw. As soon as the bubbly gold liquid spilled over his sleek frame, the vine pulled away, but he didn’t need it anymore. He was full, he was happy, he was almost ready. Ready to be used, drank from, throw away. To fulfill his goal in life. A small rock, smaller than the one with the hole pressed down on his muzzle, almost gently pushing the lion's muzzle flat. A loud hiss and fizz sounded, as mango juice spilled out, overflowing as its space was pressed in. And then, the stone pulled away, a sticky lion can, sitting where Simba once stood. His visage on the can, his droopy eyes on the top. His fangs, ready to pierce the can for any predator daring to drink from an overfilled can. And along his front were the words, Royal Mango Junior. With a pouncing lion cub on the O of Mango. The floor beneath the can moved forwards, dumbing the little can into a box, a box that rose up to the higher branches of the den. To the landing where Scar was waiting, watching, with another can under his claws. Perfect. The cubs made much sweeter juice than the full-grown lions.
Scar let out a yowl of triumph, setting both his prizes in front of him. “I’ve done it...I’m the king ...I'm the KING!” he shouted. His roar echoing off the walls of the den. He tapped his claws on the cold stones that his former family was now trapped as... No not trapped, gone. They were never coming back. He was the rightful king now. He had no family in the way, no king, no nephew. They were nothing but juice. Twoleg stones to be tossed away when emptied. He had won, and he was unstoppable now.
Banzai walked up, a smile on his muzzle, a paw holding back a giggle. “So uhh Scar, We’re getting our reward right? For uh helping out?” He twirled his paw, pointing to all the vines, branches, and stone, the twoleg materials they had slaved over, learning to use for the past month.
Scar let out a laugh, hold up the can that was once Mufasa. “I’m the KING now. Do you dolts understand that? And as king, I can’t let such power fall into the hands of mongrels like you. You can join your packmates in my belly, nice cold, sweet, fizzy juice for your King to enjoy.” He said, glaring at the three hyenas.
Shenzei narrowed her eyes. “You think you can take on the three of us alone?” She growled, the smile falling from her muzzle.
The lion let out a smirk. “Oh, I’m more than capable. I’m smarter, I’m stronger, and most of all, I’m better than you mongrels could ever hope to-” A loud smack sounded through the air, a stone, one of the moving ones, smacking the gloating lion, knocking him off the edge, where he barely clung with his claws. Banzai and Shenzei turned around to see Ed with a dopey grin, and a branch in paw.
Shenzei burst into maniacal laughter as she stalked over to where Scar hung. “Nice one Ed, you are good for something. Now, why don’t we have ourselves a little party? And what's a party without drinks, Eh?” She said, turning to Banzai.
Banzai was rolling on his back laughing at the turn about. “Oh yeah, drinks. But there's only two. Don’t you think Ed should get one too?”
Shenzei glared down at scar, placing a paw on his paws. “That just what I was thinking.” Her smile twisted up, into a maniacal grin.
“Wait wait! I was kidding, joking! I would never harm my friends! You know that, right? Right?” Scar begged. His eyes pleaded for mercy. Shenzei’s gaze softened a little.
“True, a friend should help another friend.” She reached a paw down, for Scar to grab it. He let out a sigh of relief, raising his other paw and trying to reach out and grab it. The moment before, Shenzei pulled her paw back. “Too slow, Mr. King!” She said as she rolled backward, laughing. Scar’s paw flailed in the air, trying to grab back onto the ledge before his other paw slipped, and he was sent yowling down. Falling onto the belt Mufasa had been on before.
Scar let out a groan, struggling to his paws. He was okay, for the most part. Nothing was broken at least. He growled loudly. “When I get up there, you three are going to pay for your inso-”
“Now Ed!”
There was a loud, obnoxious giggle from the third hyena before, with a crash, Scar was squished in between two twoleg stones. His body was pressed together, his head tilted up, and he was scrunched close to himself. He grunted, trying to wriggle and push at the stones around him. If he could just move, he could escape. He just had to move ...to...move ...to ...to... The Miniature twoleg sun above him started to flash like before. And with each flash, he was finding it harder to think, to form a plan. Plan?..what plan...what...move…? Good can’s didn’t move...right? Besides, it was too comfortable to move.
Scar didn’t even realize when the stones unclamped him, to busy staring up into the lights. The Familiar hiss of the twoleg snakes, the silver spraying ones, met his ears. And he relished their embrace. Everywhere they sprayed he felt warm, before a refreshing cool fell over him, as he solidified. His body taking on a shiny sheen, round like the cans of his family… family? Cans don’t have a family. Cans are cans ...they're ...He couldn’t move anymore, even if he tried. His body was solid, trapped, a lion begging for the drink soon to come.
The large round stone was next, opening wide, clamping down on the lion. Pressing, scrunching him down. Compressing him smaller and smaller. Scar knew he had to be small enough to fit in a paw, to easily be opened and emptied. For anyone to enjoy. He enjoyed the squeeze he felt from every side, the shrinking feel he had, as he got smaller and smaller, his mass being pressed into thin, yet solid twoleg cold stone. And when the jaws of the stone opened, Scar was no bigger than a 16 ounce can, with a muzzle sticking from the top, ready for his filling.
Scar knew what came next, the juice, his delicious filling. What many would come for miles to taste. The part that makes him whole. He tried to purr, but that was beyond him now. Can’s didn’t need to purr anyways. As the vine lowered into his maw, he could taste the mango sweetness. So much better, more filling than as a lion… a lion? No, he was a can. Always was a can. He gurgled softly, as his insides were filled with the juice; fizzy, delicious juice. And then, all too soon, the vine pulled away, letting the last few drops splat on his muzzle. Can whined into the light.
But his whines would soon be silenced. The last step was next, the large cylinder of stone crashing down on his muzzle with high speed. His muzzle melted down, flattening, pushing down, past his mane designed top. His fangs outside, curved and poking at his own top, his nose able to be lifted, to bend his fangs down. Can was ready to serve. Ready to be drunk from. And he was eager, as all good can’s should be.
The whining and booms of the twoleg den stopped as Ed dropped off the twoleg king stone, the stone that controlled all the other stones in the place. He bit back a small giggle, picking up the junior Royal Manjo juice in his maw, Banzai grabbing the full juice. Shenzei then led them both down to where the last can of Royal Mango was deposited. The box held a single can, of a dark brown lion with a black mane, his muzzle scrunched up to be the lid, and a dopey, happy look on his painted-on eyes. Shenzei grabbed it in a paw.
“A toast! To the king!” Shenzei said, raising her soda up. Banzai did the same, clacking his can with hers, the Ed joined in with a laugh.
POP
POP
POP
Phhhsssssshhhhhh
The sound of three cans opening, there fangs digging into their tops, prying them open, and then the bubbles of mango hissing out through the new opening. They each took a swig of their drink, their juice. And Shenzei let out a loud burp. Silence followed before Banzai joined her, Another loud burp echoing through the den. Both of them devolved into a fit of laughter. Ed grinned widely, before opening his maw and a huge burp sounded. The ground shook, the birds nearby flew off in fear. The twoleg stones rattled, and then all fell silent. Banzai and Shenzei looked at Ed before a snort sounded, and then and an even louder bout of giggles started between all three. “Good one Ed!” They said at the same time. And their cans. Well, they couldn’t be happier, if they had any thoughts at all left in them.
In the months that followed, the Pridelands were in shambles. Lions would go looking for their king, their prince, even the king's brother, and each was changed, conformed, turned into cans of mango soda without mercy. Even Scar’s own son, Kovu, lured in by the promise of his father, and the smell of the sweet drink, joined his father’s fate as little more than another can of delicious soda. Used, emptied, and then crumpled down into a disc and thrown in the growing pile of other lions. With the last lion packed away in their gut, the hyena’s, or what was left of them, were led by Shenzei, Banzai, and Ed, and had taken over the Pridelands.
They ruled easily, the fear of their mastery over the twoleg den keeping many in check. Though, that didn’t stop the disappearance of many animals, whenever the hyena’s got a thirst for something sweet. Many were led by force to the twoleg den, to never been seen again. And soon enough, any predator the Hyena’s had, had long disappeared. The herds that had tried to flee, had ended as little more than can’s themselves. And the herds that had stayed out of fear, hardly faired and better. The circle of life the land had once lived by, had been totally shattered by the power of twoleg constructions, and a couple of underappreciated, vengeful, thirsty hyenas.
And as for the cans. The former king and prince, along with their traitorous uncle. After they had been emptied, they were crumpled and tossed aside, to be forgotten at the bottom of the growing pile of former lions and taken prey. Their rolls completed their lives content. Their only thoughts had long faded, like the last drops of mango soda that had evaporated from their maws. They were little more than hard, empty, lion printed twoleg shells, like the many others that had littered the ground of the abandoned twoleg den.
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All characters and Pridelands belong to Disney.
Please Enjoy!!!!
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A Can of Royalty
The pridelands have always stretched far, from the Watering Hole to the Elephant graveyard, to Antelope canyon. Simba had been shown much of it, either with his father or by exploration with Nala. But he had never seen anything so…so….black. It smelled horrible, like a rotting corpse, but was as hard as Priderock, and soaked up the heat so much better. And every once in a while, a monster would come running down it. A monster-filled with two legs in its belly. The furless animals that sometimes came to their Pridelands, flashing blue sun’s in their eyes and screaming, shouting, scaring off all their prey.
His father, Mufasa had always said. Never attack a twolegs. They are much like a pride, only many times greater. If you hurt one, the rest will follow and hunt you out of extinction. Simba shook himself out of his thoughts, then yelped as he felt a maw closing on his scruff, yanking him away from the thunderpath, just as a monster passed.
Mufasa sat Simba down, glaring at his son. “I told you to be careful! The monsters wouldn’t care if you were charging elephant! They’d still run you down!”
Simba yipped, closing his eyes and keeping his head low. “S-sorry dad. I was just thinking.”
The elder lion sighed. “Clearly you weren’t. Maybe it was too presumptuous, thinking you were old enough to see the twoleg den.”
Simba perked up a bit. “A den? Like, Pride rock? How do they get their monsters up it! What’s it look like? Can I see? Can I can I! Pleeeeeease!”
The little lion cub pawed at his father's mane. Mufasa had to hold back a chuckle, setting a paw on Simba’s head, pushing him to the ground. “ Oh, I don’t knooooow. Can you behave yourself? And listen to me?”
Simba shot back up, batting away his father's paw with his whole body. “Yes! I can behave! I’ll listen! So lets goooooooo!” the little lion cub was headbutting the elder lion. Trying his best to push him off his haunches. This time, Mufasa couldn’t hold back his laughter.
“Alright, alright. Let's go. But stay close. And watch the Thunderpath. Monsters never leave it, but sometimes they spit of rocks that’ll cut you to ribbons.” He said, starting down the path that led along the thunderpath. Simba happily trotted after, almost bouncing with each step.
The two lions came to a crossing, like a river, only with thunder paths. This path was older, hidden in the grass, and had all but lost its stench. Along its path, broken pieces of the thunderpath stone laid strewn.
Mufasa turned down this Thunderpath, walking right against it as it led in between the trees. Almost a small jungle in the dry of the savannah. It felt almost magical, Like the home Timon and Pumba had used, but that was far from the pridelands. There was a trickle of water, the sound of a fall, and wood creaking?
As they entered the clearing, Simba gasped. A river ran by, probably leading all the way to the watering hole. Alongside it, solid stone walls rose up, vertically. On top was a slanted stone, made of many smaller stones, several of which had fallen off to the ground. They were smooth and curved, like pebbles in a river, but were so dry, it felt like they could soak up a whole pond. Above those, were pillars of stone, gray and rising up high into the sky. Beside the sprawling twoleg den of stone, was a round thing, with many notches, sticking itself into the water. As the water flowed the wooden thing spun, creaking every few moments. The whole place looked bigger than the Priderock they had all stayed at.
Simba was giddy, bouncing on his paws as they approached. The scent of something sweet was emanating from the massive den. Mufasa put a paw in front of his son. “Wait Simba, something is different. That hole was never there.” He said, pointing a paw towards a piece of the stone that seemed to flap in the wind. It was currently pushed inwards, inside of the den, leading into the darkness inside.
The lion cub was shivering with delight. A new exploration, he could tell Nala and then… He let out a yelp as he was once again picked up by the scruff, Mufasa carrying him back away from the den. “Wait! Can’t we see what's in there?”
Mufasa shook his head, setting the lion down. “It could be dangerous, what if there are monsters in there. Or twolegs? Or something worse?”
Simba growled. “And what if there isn't! We can bring that sweet smell back to pride rock! We can show mom and Nala! You said monsters didn’t leave the thunderpath, so we should be safe inside! Besides, you told me everything the light touched, And I clearly see the light touching the twoleg den, so it's mine!”
Mufasa put a paw to his muzzle. He was also intrigued by the smell, but his son’s arrogance was starting to drive him up a wall. “It's not yours yet. It’s mine.” He muttered. Simba let out a shout.
“So we’re going in?”
“I am going in. You can stay out here until I say it's safe.” Mufasa said, using a paw to force Simba to sit.
“Aw, but daaaaaad” the lion cub whined.
“No buts! If it's safe, Then you can explore it with me. We don’t want a repeat of the Elephant graveyard, do we?” The elder lion said with a growl. Simba gulped and nodded up. “Good. Now stay here.”
Mufasa turned, and walked through the stone flap, disappearing into the darkness.
The sweet smell grew stronger as he walked forward. Cold stone filled the room in odd formations. It almost looked like the same stone on the monsters, but older, and red in places. Along the ground were smaller shiny stones. Weak ones that crumpled under his paws like leaves, albeit, stronger than normal leaves. Mufasa crouched low, stalking through the dark. He found a stone ramp, leading up to what looked like a twoleg made path. Notched with different square stones, along with a circle in the middle of each. It was pretty soft under paw. Down the path, was a small tube, like a vine, that was leaking some form of golden liquid. The sweet smell was coming from that.
Mufasa took a paw step forward, before hearing a small shriek of laughter, that was quickly stopped with an oof sound. Hyenas. Of course, they would be in a disreputable place like this. He turned to leave, before bumping muzzle to muscle with his brother. The black mane and scar across his eye a dead giveaway.
“Scar? What are you doing here?” Mufasa whispered in his ear.
Scar gave a long, almost cheeky look. “I saw you and the prince heading out and figured I'd ...tag along, just to be sure nothing happened. He really has you around his paws, doesn’t he, your Highness…” He said, hissing the end of highness like a serpent. He twirled his paw around, almost admiring it. “But now that you're here, you can’t very well leave, right? What if the hyenas followed you and cornered poor Simba. Better to chase them off now I suppose.” He said with a long, almost dramatic sigh.
Mufasa gave Scar a long look. “I guess ...that makes a little sense,” he growled out, looking up at the cold stone branches that stretched into the air. “Can you chase them down from the twoleg contraption? I’m not sure something that flimsy looking could take my weight. You get them down here, I’ll do the rest.”
Scar grinned, almost a dark grin. His face really did twist in the weirdest of ways. “I was just thinking the same thing. You wait right here, I’ll go get those… beasts, and lead them down to you.” He said as he padded up to the branches. They swayed, the vines above shaking, but it held strong. Scar disappeared up among the branches and mess that was the twoleg pathway up. And no sooner had he, than a loud bang, and a whirring sound started up.
Mufasa looked around, poised to attack. “Scar?!.. Scar?! Where are you?” Mufasa shouted up. A glowing, one-eyed grin showed from above, joined by three others.
Scar leaned down until Simba could see his face in the light that spilled from the holes. “Long live the king, brother.” He said, before pushing on a branch with a knob on it. Two pieces of stone swung up, slamming around the king before he could make a move.
Mufasa groaned The stones had him trapped, his paws raised, his body on his haunches. What was this thing? There was a hissing sound as the stones seemed to squeeze tighter. His paws pulling into his body, his joints folding in, rounding out. His head was forced to tilt up, up into the strobing twoleg sun. with each flash, it felt like he lost a bit of something. What he’s not sure. But something…. From Scar’s point of view, the stones pulled away, the king held in his pose. His paws were up, almost like a begging twoleg mutt, his haunches down, his tail curled around his paws. He was now round. Like a stone, more specifically, like the stones that littered the ground around him. And best of all, he never tried to move. Mufasa didn’t know how to move now, something Scar learned after several...tests with his hyena’s.
Scar pointed at Shenzi. “Next step. NOW, before he can recover.” He snarled. Shenzei burst into a fit of giggles, tugging on the branch with the green knot on top, and the twoleg path under Mufasa started moving. Another hiss sounded, this one more like a watery hiss. Two snakes from either side rose up, spinning around the lion and spraying a silvery liquid that quickly hardened. Where before he forgot to move, now he really couldn’t. He was caught in a tight embrace, like a mother hugging her cub. He couldn't escape..didn’t want to escape. It felt.. Nice. That what the sun told him. It was cool, and comforting, for him to not have to move, his paws frozen forever, his tail not even getting to twitch. The two snakes rose up and out of view.
Banzai grabbed the blue knotted branch with both paws. “My turn, Your highness!” He shouted, devolving into another fit of laughter as he fell backward. The path moved once again, and a large stone lowered from above, a small hole in the middle. It cracked open, like a jaw, before snapping down on the helpless lion. Again the hissing was heard, white steam rising from it as it clamped down around the former king. The whole contraption shuddered for a moment, before opening. The king was no longer any bigger than a cub. He had been compressed down, small enough to fit in the round holes that filled the path, and thus, he was locked into the hole under him. Mufasa felt pure elation. He could smell that sweet liquid up next. He was ready to be filled, to be topped off with the delicious fizz. To be used….
Ed grabbed the red branch, chewing it in his maw before Shenzei smacked him on the head. Ed yanked the branch down, and once again, the path moved, until the vine was directly over the lion...can. It lowered into his waiting maw, locking in place in his jaws, before jetting out the sweet mango flavored fizzing water. Mufasa was over the moon, he could feel it filling him up. Raising in his round body, bubbling, hissing. The delicious juice filling him to the brim. Just behind his throat, before the vine pulled away. It was too soon. He wanted more, he could still fit more. How would he make them happy if he was half empty? The lion let out a soft, gurgly whine.
Scar stood above, waiting at the last branch. His hyenas had fallen into a pile of laughing mutts, and for once, he couldn’t blame them. With one last push. The king, his brother, would be gone for good. And so, with the most sadistic smile he could manage, he tugged down the white branch. His muzzle opened with glee as a round stone slammed down on top of the former lion, crushing his muzzle down. it pushed, and pushes until his muzzle was past where his head used to be. Flattened, with his fangs poking out. Just as sharp, his nose as a knob. With a pull, those fangs would puncture the seal, letting the golden liquid flow. And ooh how Mufasa couldn’t wait for that moment. For him to be able to spill his essence down a waiting predator’s gullet. Here their towels of joy as they emptied him. It was what he lived for, like the good little can he was.
The conveyor stopped, the can rolling off, down a ramp into Scar’s waiting paws. The lion was shaped like a can, but had the look of a lion, beginning on his haunches, his muzzle up, ready to pour his juice out. Royalty Mango was emblazoned on the front, not that Scar could read it. Nor did he really care. Scar idly toyed with the can, rolling it under his paw. He could crush his brother now, the former king of the pride. The strongest lion was now helpless under his paws. Unable to, unwilling even, to try to fight back. Scar didn’t even know if he was still alive in there. Probably not after all the twoleg contraptions had done.
Scar felt the liquid sloshing inside the former lion, the twoleg Juicestone. The delicious drink that brought him to this place. He wanted the juice inside his brother...no, inside the twoleg stone. But first, there was one more heir that had to be dealt with. Scar’s stomach let out a small grumble. The extra juice wouldn’t hurt either.
Simba was standing outside, right where his father had left him ...laughable. He was already exploring around, pawing as bits of twoleg junk, trying to peek into the stone flap, rolling around stones of the old thunderpath to makes a pile. You can’t leave a cub all alone and expect him to behave. Everyone knew that, so Simba figured it was his father’s fault for forgetting. A loud sound came from the twoleg den, almost like thunder ...or..wind? It was hard to tell from out here.
Simba peeked his head inside, unable to see anything in the darkness. He pawed at the ground in frustration. If he went in and got caught by his dad, it would be a one-way trip back to Priderock. The little cub sighed, turning away from the door. And then a paw landed on his shoulder, Simba turned ready to great his father, only to see the black mane and scared eye of his uncle.
“Uncle Scar! You’re here too? Have you seen my dad?” Simba asked, bouncing around.
His uncle let out a soft groan, a moaning wail. “Oh Simba, It's just dreadful! You’re father, He’s been cornered by the hyenas. Oh, I wish I could help, but I'm nowhere near as ...” Scar didn’t even get to finish before Simba had darted between his paws, running into the twoleg den. Well, that was easy. Would that poor boy ever learn...well, guess not after today. Scare smirked to himself, padding in behind the lion cub, quietly and silently.
Simba had dashed in, running full speed on the hard stone floors. The awkward stone structures were moving, whirring, thundering down on empty air. That must’ve been the sound he heard earlier!. But where was his…?His thoughts stopped as he smelled that sweet scent from earlier. Stronger, much stronger. He heard a dripping sound, the soft plop of water on water. Only, this had an added fizz sound to it. Looking around, Simba didn’t hear any hyenas or his father’s angry yowls. Was his uncle pranking him again? Well, if there was no danger… it wouldn’t hurt to taste it... Right?
Simba climbed up the ramp. A much smaller one than the one in the front. Lying in a puddle, leaking from a vine was the mango scented liquid, bubbling as it Pumba was bathing in it. At first, the thought turned Simba away from it, but then the sweet scent pulled him closer. Just a taste, it couldn’t hurt, right? He lapped at the puddle, and his senses went into shock. The sweetness, the fizziness. It had his eyes watering, but it was so good. He kept lapping at the puddle, drops plaping on his head, getting his fur sticky, but he didn’t care, it was too good, but then he realized, there was more where the drips come from.
He looked up at the vine, a drip smacking him on the nose. Simba licked the drop off his nose, before rising up on his hind legs, grabbing the vine in the forepaws, and gently slipping it into his muzzle. The drips were infrequent but constant. But he wanted more. Simba shook at the vine, trying to get more out. From up above, Banzai and Shenzi were watching the lion cub. The poor little thing didn’t even know what was about to happen to him. Banzai couldn’t help but let out a giggle, before covering his maw with his paws, Shenzi glaring at him.
Simba heard a soft laugh from above. Hyen-? His thoughts stopped as a clang was heard from above, and a rush of the fizzy juice slipped into his maw.
The drink was so good, he could feel it bubbling in his belly, filling him up slowly. Simba let out a soft purr as the cold drink emptied into his belly. His paws dropping to his sides. There was another clang, and then a bright flashing sun appeared above him. Simba was entranced, suckling down his juice as he stared up. Losing himself in the changing colors, the flashing beams. He hardly even noticed as another sound, like a rushing wind, was right by his ear. Then with a loud slam, the lion was crushed between two round stones, all the while, his muzzle still suckling down the juice. Steam expended from the cracks, as the rocks pulled away. His eyes were glazed, looking up, flat on his body, paws pinned down, and tail pinned against his back. The lion was in much the same position as his father before. A flat round rock, not willing to move. It felt too good, too right.
Scar looked on, from the end of a twoleg stone branch. His muzzle twisted into a smirk as he watched the young cub be shaped by the twoleg stones. His body was smooth now, smooth and unmoving, but the cub was still suckling on the vine, like a newborn kit. He really was an annoying brat, and soon, he would be rid of his nephew, just like his father. Scar tapped his juice stone with a claw as he watched on.
The juice from his vine started to peter out, Once again barely dripping into his maw, making the Simba whine. He wanted more, needed more. A loud hiss surrounded him, as a liquid, silvery clear, poured from above. Covering the lion, working its way down his fur. A small round rock with a hole pushed down around him, sliding down the vine, then down the lion, spreading the droplets of the liquid out, giving him an even coating. As soon as the rock rose back up, his vine started spouting liquid once more. Simba let out a sigh of relief. It felt so good to be filled up. To be topped off. His body creaked as it dried, sounding much like the rocks above him. A hollow creaky clang, as the juice, filled him up. It kept going, pouring more and more, rising up inside him; Simba was in paradise.
From outside the contraption, it looked like a small, steady rain fell on the cub, his fur was turning sleek and shiny, glinting with the flashing light of the twoleg sun. then another stone covered the lion, and any globules of the silvery liquid were wiped away. Leaving his fur smooth and hard. There was no turning back for the former now.
The Vine never stopped pouring it heavenly sweetness until it was literally pouring from the little lion's maw. As soon as the bubbly gold liquid spilled over his sleek frame, the vine pulled away, but he didn’t need it anymore. He was full, he was happy, he was almost ready. Ready to be used, drank from, throw away. To fulfill his goal in life. A small rock, smaller than the one with the hole pressed down on his muzzle, almost gently pushing the lion's muzzle flat. A loud hiss and fizz sounded, as mango juice spilled out, overflowing as its space was pressed in. And then, the stone pulled away, a sticky lion can, sitting where Simba once stood. His visage on the can, his droopy eyes on the top. His fangs, ready to pierce the can for any predator daring to drink from an overfilled can. And along his front were the words, Royal Mango Junior. With a pouncing lion cub on the O of Mango. The floor beneath the can moved forwards, dumbing the little can into a box, a box that rose up to the higher branches of the den. To the landing where Scar was waiting, watching, with another can under his claws. Perfect. The cubs made much sweeter juice than the full-grown lions.
Scar let out a yowl of triumph, setting both his prizes in front of him. “I’ve done it...I’m the king ...I'm the KING!” he shouted. His roar echoing off the walls of the den. He tapped his claws on the cold stones that his former family was now trapped as... No not trapped, gone. They were never coming back. He was the rightful king now. He had no family in the way, no king, no nephew. They were nothing but juice. Twoleg stones to be tossed away when emptied. He had won, and he was unstoppable now.
Banzai walked up, a smile on his muzzle, a paw holding back a giggle. “So uhh Scar, We’re getting our reward right? For uh helping out?” He twirled his paw, pointing to all the vines, branches, and stone, the twoleg materials they had slaved over, learning to use for the past month.
Scar let out a laugh, hold up the can that was once Mufasa. “I’m the KING now. Do you dolts understand that? And as king, I can’t let such power fall into the hands of mongrels like you. You can join your packmates in my belly, nice cold, sweet, fizzy juice for your King to enjoy.” He said, glaring at the three hyenas.
Shenzei narrowed her eyes. “You think you can take on the three of us alone?” She growled, the smile falling from her muzzle.
The lion let out a smirk. “Oh, I’m more than capable. I’m smarter, I’m stronger, and most of all, I’m better than you mongrels could ever hope to-” A loud smack sounded through the air, a stone, one of the moving ones, smacking the gloating lion, knocking him off the edge, where he barely clung with his claws. Banzai and Shenzei turned around to see Ed with a dopey grin, and a branch in paw.
Shenzei burst into maniacal laughter as she stalked over to where Scar hung. “Nice one Ed, you are good for something. Now, why don’t we have ourselves a little party? And what's a party without drinks, Eh?” She said, turning to Banzai.
Banzai was rolling on his back laughing at the turn about. “Oh yeah, drinks. But there's only two. Don’t you think Ed should get one too?”
Shenzei glared down at scar, placing a paw on his paws. “That just what I was thinking.” Her smile twisted up, into a maniacal grin.
“Wait wait! I was kidding, joking! I would never harm my friends! You know that, right? Right?” Scar begged. His eyes pleaded for mercy. Shenzei’s gaze softened a little.
“True, a friend should help another friend.” She reached a paw down, for Scar to grab it. He let out a sigh of relief, raising his other paw and trying to reach out and grab it. The moment before, Shenzei pulled her paw back. “Too slow, Mr. King!” She said as she rolled backward, laughing. Scar’s paw flailed in the air, trying to grab back onto the ledge before his other paw slipped, and he was sent yowling down. Falling onto the belt Mufasa had been on before.
Scar let out a groan, struggling to his paws. He was okay, for the most part. Nothing was broken at least. He growled loudly. “When I get up there, you three are going to pay for your inso-”
“Now Ed!”
There was a loud, obnoxious giggle from the third hyena before, with a crash, Scar was squished in between two twoleg stones. His body was pressed together, his head tilted up, and he was scrunched close to himself. He grunted, trying to wriggle and push at the stones around him. If he could just move, he could escape. He just had to move ...to...move ...to ...to... The Miniature twoleg sun above him started to flash like before. And with each flash, he was finding it harder to think, to form a plan. Plan?..what plan...what...move…? Good can’s didn’t move...right? Besides, it was too comfortable to move.
Scar didn’t even realize when the stones unclamped him, to busy staring up into the lights. The Familiar hiss of the twoleg snakes, the silver spraying ones, met his ears. And he relished their embrace. Everywhere they sprayed he felt warm, before a refreshing cool fell over him, as he solidified. His body taking on a shiny sheen, round like the cans of his family… family? Cans don’t have a family. Cans are cans ...they're ...He couldn’t move anymore, even if he tried. His body was solid, trapped, a lion begging for the drink soon to come.
The large round stone was next, opening wide, clamping down on the lion. Pressing, scrunching him down. Compressing him smaller and smaller. Scar knew he had to be small enough to fit in a paw, to easily be opened and emptied. For anyone to enjoy. He enjoyed the squeeze he felt from every side, the shrinking feel he had, as he got smaller and smaller, his mass being pressed into thin, yet solid twoleg cold stone. And when the jaws of the stone opened, Scar was no bigger than a 16 ounce can, with a muzzle sticking from the top, ready for his filling.
Scar knew what came next, the juice, his delicious filling. What many would come for miles to taste. The part that makes him whole. He tried to purr, but that was beyond him now. Can’s didn’t need to purr anyways. As the vine lowered into his maw, he could taste the mango sweetness. So much better, more filling than as a lion… a lion? No, he was a can. Always was a can. He gurgled softly, as his insides were filled with the juice; fizzy, delicious juice. And then, all too soon, the vine pulled away, letting the last few drops splat on his muzzle. Can whined into the light.
But his whines would soon be silenced. The last step was next, the large cylinder of stone crashing down on his muzzle with high speed. His muzzle melted down, flattening, pushing down, past his mane designed top. His fangs outside, curved and poking at his own top, his nose able to be lifted, to bend his fangs down. Can was ready to serve. Ready to be drunk from. And he was eager, as all good can’s should be.
The whining and booms of the twoleg den stopped as Ed dropped off the twoleg king stone, the stone that controlled all the other stones in the place. He bit back a small giggle, picking up the junior Royal Manjo juice in his maw, Banzai grabbing the full juice. Shenzei then led them both down to where the last can of Royal Mango was deposited. The box held a single can, of a dark brown lion with a black mane, his muzzle scrunched up to be the lid, and a dopey, happy look on his painted-on eyes. Shenzei grabbed it in a paw.
“A toast! To the king!” Shenzei said, raising her soda up. Banzai did the same, clacking his can with hers, the Ed joined in with a laugh.
POP
POP
POP
Phhhsssssshhhhhh
The sound of three cans opening, there fangs digging into their tops, prying them open, and then the bubbles of mango hissing out through the new opening. They each took a swig of their drink, their juice. And Shenzei let out a loud burp. Silence followed before Banzai joined her, Another loud burp echoing through the den. Both of them devolved into a fit of laughter. Ed grinned widely, before opening his maw and a huge burp sounded. The ground shook, the birds nearby flew off in fear. The twoleg stones rattled, and then all fell silent. Banzai and Shenzei looked at Ed before a snort sounded, and then and an even louder bout of giggles started between all three. “Good one Ed!” They said at the same time. And their cans. Well, they couldn’t be happier, if they had any thoughts at all left in them.
In the months that followed, the Pridelands were in shambles. Lions would go looking for their king, their prince, even the king's brother, and each was changed, conformed, turned into cans of mango soda without mercy. Even Scar’s own son, Kovu, lured in by the promise of his father, and the smell of the sweet drink, joined his father’s fate as little more than another can of delicious soda. Used, emptied, and then crumpled down into a disc and thrown in the growing pile of other lions. With the last lion packed away in their gut, the hyena’s, or what was left of them, were led by Shenzei, Banzai, and Ed, and had taken over the Pridelands.
They ruled easily, the fear of their mastery over the twoleg den keeping many in check. Though, that didn’t stop the disappearance of many animals, whenever the hyena’s got a thirst for something sweet. Many were led by force to the twoleg den, to never been seen again. And soon enough, any predator the Hyena’s had, had long disappeared. The herds that had tried to flee, had ended as little more than can’s themselves. And the herds that had stayed out of fear, hardly faired and better. The circle of life the land had once lived by, had been totally shattered by the power of twoleg constructions, and a couple of underappreciated, vengeful, thirsty hyenas.
And as for the cans. The former king and prince, along with their traitorous uncle. After they had been emptied, they were crumpled and tossed aside, to be forgotten at the bottom of the growing pile of former lions and taken prey. Their rolls completed their lives content. Their only thoughts had long faded, like the last drops of mango soda that had evaporated from their maws. They were little more than hard, empty, lion printed twoleg shells, like the many others that had littered the ground of the abandoned twoleg den.
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Category Story / Transformation
Species Lion
Gender Any
Size 50 x 50px
Neat how you described everything from the lion's prospective of human "tech"
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