For a variety of reasons I haven't been able to get around to drawing since *March* and after seeing TLK remake twice, I had this idea pop into my head. 1994!Scar, cuddling up to 2019!Scar, who looks a little less than pleased about it all ;) Some things are a bit off, been a while since I've drawn Scar (I'm a terrible muse-keeper -- I hold my head in shame!) When I was working on this piece, I came up with a little one-shot complete fluff story to be a companion piece to it, taking place after their defeat and a theoretical what-if-they-survived bit. My first fanfic in about a year, it was just fun to write. I need another ship like I need a hole in my head.
The Lion King's Scar is © Disney.
In the very back of the cavern, Scar grunted as he turned to lick the wound from his right hip -- one of many from his near death encounter with the hyenas. His wounds seemed to have oozed open from every movement, no matter how careful he was. The thin-maned lion's yellow eyes flashed as he let out a growl of both frustration and pain. He would have to remain here for some time, in the event the hyenas would come back from him and should the pride discover that he was still alive, he would be no match for them. His battle scarred coat was even more scarred up, a reminder of all that he had done the pride, and for his betrayal to the hyenas, what should have been his demise.
Truthfully Scar didn't know how he survived. One moment he was swatting them as they came up to them, sinking his teeth and claws into several as he fought valiantly, and then he passed out as their bodies swarmed over him like ants on a picnic. Perhaps some higher figure was looking out for him, but he cynically dismissed this. Hunger gnawed at his stomach and he glared balefully at the carcass of the Kudu calf in which he had stolen from a leopard late last night, the sheer effort of bringing it down from the lower branch in his condition still had exhausted him; the leopard in which he took the meal from was rather careless in his carcass placement, not only by not placing it higher up but leaving a tempting leg dangling above within reaching distance. Gnawed to near bits, Scar had no strength to bring down prey and had to live like a thief, like the hyenas he once had as allies.
"Damn it all . . . " He growled to himself, stiffly getting up and padding to the carcass. Each movement was painful, awkward, but his hunger drove him on.
As Scar neared the carcass, he detected an bitter odor that made him growl again, and as he came it it, he realized the flesh had been devoured from the haunches, a considerable amount at that. Whatever fed from the kill was something that was bold; surely whoever or whatever was feeding from it had managed to sneak in when he was asleep. It was risky even then to steal from a sleeping lion.
The lion leaned a stiff neck down to sniff at his prize, his brain, rattled from the events of some nights before, spending a moment to detect what it could come from. It didn't smell like the lionesses, or of Simba, or of jackals or wild dogs. It was a bitter scent, smelling of fire and charred wood but he carefully laid down again to feed. Normally it was foolish to feed from a kill that had smelled unusual; he heard something about a creature called a "human" that would sometimes poison a kill, but his hunger, his state of being, wasn't enabling him to think properly. Perhaps it was one of the hyenas, one that survived the fires -- and he had seen some with their coats ablaze but seemingly unaffected by it as they sought him as a meal. Yet this very idea that a hyena could have been at his carcass made him wary and his ears swiveled in each direction, his eyes wide, jumpy in disposition. The very structure of this cave that he cave that he came upon that terrible night, crawling his way in, was suitable to hide him, but with no back entrance, was a trap.
Outside the cave, his thief was approaching.
The longer Scar fed, the more his mind wandered, for the stronger the scent became. His tail swooshed defensively and he laid himself close to the ground, growling as he hurried his feeding, trying to eat as much as possible. He was grudgingly willing to sacrifice his meal should it be a hyena, lest he get into a fight that he knew he wouldn't be able to win in his condition.
"SHOW YOURSELF!" Scar roared, paranoia setting in as that scent grew stronger with each minute.
Approaching the mouth of the cave was another male lion; limping painfully, alternatively limping on each of his legs, not wanting to put weight on any leg but desperate to move forward. There were wounds covering his reddish coat, his black mane tattered and matted. At one point this lion spent much of his time preening over this mane, even though it was never particularly impressive, unlike that of his older brother whom he had done away with. Much like the lion in the cave, there was a vertical scar over his left eye, which were a brilliant green in hue.
This, was also a Scar. He paused when he heard the voice demand once again to show himself. And just like the other lion, he was in no position to fight. His body language was cautious as he ventured in, hungry driving him onwards, into the cave.
"It was YOU!" The tawny Scar roared, pitching himself at this reddish, scrawny, mangy looking creature, who had the audacity of going into his lair. This movement brought on pain, intense pain but it was enough to frighten the other lion to stumble backwards, loosing his footing. Perhaps he wouldn't need to give up his stolen meal after all, perhaps this thief could be scared off, like the vultures and the jackals in which he had taken food from before from.
"I-I . . ." Was all the green-eyed Scar could come up with as he tried to get to his feet, the other lion moved towards him as he staggered back. He spent a moment trying to regain his composure, though, as he eyed this other lion. Although his coat was of a duller colour, he was marked for just like him, and this intrigued him. It would have been wise to have moved out from the cave, but he found himself
"Common thief . . ." The yellow eyed Scar snarled, hypocritically. When the other lion didn't back off, he letting out a short, hissed out roar, swiping a paw out at him but snarling again when he missed his target, which ducked away out of reach.
"Must us lions in times of desperation resort to violence?" The green eyed lion asked, suavely at that, as he saw that the Kudu calf, in which he brazenly fed from when the other lion was was asleep, still had some meat left on its bones. Until now though he never had a good look at this lion when he made his first trip into the cave, all that he knew was that he had food for the taking; the scent drawing him in; in his mauled condition, he too had to resort to stealing food. When the Pridelanders made their kills, he would keep a low profile, and only venture out when they left the remains. So far, he had gone about doing this, unseen.
The tawny Scar answered coldly, his teeth bared, ready to use whatever strength he had left to tear into the throat of this other lion. How dare he steal from him, how dare he walk into his cave when he was asleep, and fill HIS belly with his meat. "I would say, yes. Each lion for his or her own self."
"Us lions are a social creatures, we have to look each other." Scar murmured, and in a gesture of both submission -- not willing nor able to fight for the rest of his feast in his condition -- and persuasion, he rubbed his head underneath the chin of this other lion, who reeked of ashen and blood, just as he did, and of hyena. Perhaps this lion could provide him with more meals. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could be king again. This green eyed lion had been long been a loner, voluntarily and involuntarily . . . But maybe, just maybe, he could also gain something he hadn't had in a long time -- a friend.
"We could benefit from cooperation, we could form a coalition, form a new pride." Scar was now purring, well, as best as lions could purr, and slunk down and weaved himself through the front legs of this other Scar, who's rage was building up within. It was a bold gesture, knowing that he could get himself finished off right here and there. He pushed himself up against the other lion's chest, letting out that purring again, one front paw lifted off the cave floor.
"Taka was my birth name, but you can call me Scar." Scar murmured, his incessant appeasement-flirting behavior continuing with another nuzzle of his head, undoubtedly transferring fleas from his own hyena encounter onto this other disheveled lion, who was trying to move away from him to continue his meal. In a sassy gesture, with a smirk, the red coated lion whisked his tail against him, leaning against the other lion, causing the other lion to stagger slightly from his weak state.
"Taka. I'll call you Taka." The yellow eyed lion growled as he wheeled away from him, by now thinking he was a magnet to this strange lion, who had flopped onto his back like a trying to appease an angry parent.
"Scar." The green eyed lion pouted, looking up at the other He was rather proud of himself for being so persuasive, but within felt scared . . . Of being alone, in such a time when he was vulnerable, thinking at any time Shenzi, Banzai, Ed, and survivors would be looking for him. The Pridelanders surely would kill him if he showed himself to them. He had to start anew.
"It's my preferred name," he further plead. "Taka means dirt, trash, not a decent name. But how rude of me. What may I call you?" He asked, as if the other lion had decided to form a coalition with him.
The other lion snorted, his eyes narrowed as he stared down at this . . . Flirting lion, his ears pinned back in annoyance. He leaned over intimidatingly, hoping for this "Taka" to back off . . . And out of this cave. However, it seemed the more annoyed he got with him, the more this other lion wouldn't leave him be, and indeed he stayed on his back at his feet , his pawing turning to a kneading motion to his thinly maned chest. 'Incessant little shit, isn't he?'
"I'm . . . Scar." He twisted his face into a growl.
Oh how the tawny Scar wanted to tear this strange lion to pieces, especially as they shared their same name! In the position he was in, it would take a single bite, surely he had energy for that. Perhaps he could even get two meals now. But perhaps . . . Perhaps this other Scar was right. A lone male lion only did so well on their own for so long and as it stood, he wasn't exactly having an easy time at it, yet still, he yellow eyed lion, living in exile, hated that this effeminate Scar was right. Inwardly, he knew though would be good to do somethin other than wait in the shadows, getting only scraps.
"I suppose . . . " He sighed, resting on his side next to the other Scar, spending a moment to lick a paw that was suffering from a burn injury, before he took that paw and placed it on the other lion's chest. He rolled his eyes as it elicited that odd purr from the black maned one. 'Sigh. Need to get him a lioness or I'll be the object of his affection for the rest of my life. Why me, with the strange one . . . Attracted to me? Why not some beautiful lioness with a near white cream coat, blue eyes instead? That would be nice, that would be normal. Maybe this is punishment from the powers that be. Oh, it has to be!'
"We could form a coalition." And for the first time, the green eyed Scar saw a smile, a hint of one anyways, from him.
"Might want to tone down on the cuddling. Lionesses might get jealous." He added with a wink.
The Lion King's Scar is © Disney.
In the very back of the cavern, Scar grunted as he turned to lick the wound from his right hip -- one of many from his near death encounter with the hyenas. His wounds seemed to have oozed open from every movement, no matter how careful he was. The thin-maned lion's yellow eyes flashed as he let out a growl of both frustration and pain. He would have to remain here for some time, in the event the hyenas would come back from him and should the pride discover that he was still alive, he would be no match for them. His battle scarred coat was even more scarred up, a reminder of all that he had done the pride, and for his betrayal to the hyenas, what should have been his demise.
Truthfully Scar didn't know how he survived. One moment he was swatting them as they came up to them, sinking his teeth and claws into several as he fought valiantly, and then he passed out as their bodies swarmed over him like ants on a picnic. Perhaps some higher figure was looking out for him, but he cynically dismissed this. Hunger gnawed at his stomach and he glared balefully at the carcass of the Kudu calf in which he had stolen from a leopard late last night, the sheer effort of bringing it down from the lower branch in his condition still had exhausted him; the leopard in which he took the meal from was rather careless in his carcass placement, not only by not placing it higher up but leaving a tempting leg dangling above within reaching distance. Gnawed to near bits, Scar had no strength to bring down prey and had to live like a thief, like the hyenas he once had as allies.
"Damn it all . . . " He growled to himself, stiffly getting up and padding to the carcass. Each movement was painful, awkward, but his hunger drove him on.
As Scar neared the carcass, he detected an bitter odor that made him growl again, and as he came it it, he realized the flesh had been devoured from the haunches, a considerable amount at that. Whatever fed from the kill was something that was bold; surely whoever or whatever was feeding from it had managed to sneak in when he was asleep. It was risky even then to steal from a sleeping lion.
The lion leaned a stiff neck down to sniff at his prize, his brain, rattled from the events of some nights before, spending a moment to detect what it could come from. It didn't smell like the lionesses, or of Simba, or of jackals or wild dogs. It was a bitter scent, smelling of fire and charred wood but he carefully laid down again to feed. Normally it was foolish to feed from a kill that had smelled unusual; he heard something about a creature called a "human" that would sometimes poison a kill, but his hunger, his state of being, wasn't enabling him to think properly. Perhaps it was one of the hyenas, one that survived the fires -- and he had seen some with their coats ablaze but seemingly unaffected by it as they sought him as a meal. Yet this very idea that a hyena could have been at his carcass made him wary and his ears swiveled in each direction, his eyes wide, jumpy in disposition. The very structure of this cave that he cave that he came upon that terrible night, crawling his way in, was suitable to hide him, but with no back entrance, was a trap.
Outside the cave, his thief was approaching.
The longer Scar fed, the more his mind wandered, for the stronger the scent became. His tail swooshed defensively and he laid himself close to the ground, growling as he hurried his feeding, trying to eat as much as possible. He was grudgingly willing to sacrifice his meal should it be a hyena, lest he get into a fight that he knew he wouldn't be able to win in his condition.
"SHOW YOURSELF!" Scar roared, paranoia setting in as that scent grew stronger with each minute.
Approaching the mouth of the cave was another male lion; limping painfully, alternatively limping on each of his legs, not wanting to put weight on any leg but desperate to move forward. There were wounds covering his reddish coat, his black mane tattered and matted. At one point this lion spent much of his time preening over this mane, even though it was never particularly impressive, unlike that of his older brother whom he had done away with. Much like the lion in the cave, there was a vertical scar over his left eye, which were a brilliant green in hue.
This, was also a Scar. He paused when he heard the voice demand once again to show himself. And just like the other lion, he was in no position to fight. His body language was cautious as he ventured in, hungry driving him onwards, into the cave.
"It was YOU!" The tawny Scar roared, pitching himself at this reddish, scrawny, mangy looking creature, who had the audacity of going into his lair. This movement brought on pain, intense pain but it was enough to frighten the other lion to stumble backwards, loosing his footing. Perhaps he wouldn't need to give up his stolen meal after all, perhaps this thief could be scared off, like the vultures and the jackals in which he had taken food from before from.
"I-I . . ." Was all the green-eyed Scar could come up with as he tried to get to his feet, the other lion moved towards him as he staggered back. He spent a moment trying to regain his composure, though, as he eyed this other lion. Although his coat was of a duller colour, he was marked for just like him, and this intrigued him. It would have been wise to have moved out from the cave, but he found himself
"Common thief . . ." The yellow eyed Scar snarled, hypocritically. When the other lion didn't back off, he letting out a short, hissed out roar, swiping a paw out at him but snarling again when he missed his target, which ducked away out of reach.
"Must us lions in times of desperation resort to violence?" The green eyed lion asked, suavely at that, as he saw that the Kudu calf, in which he brazenly fed from when the other lion was was asleep, still had some meat left on its bones. Until now though he never had a good look at this lion when he made his first trip into the cave, all that he knew was that he had food for the taking; the scent drawing him in; in his mauled condition, he too had to resort to stealing food. When the Pridelanders made their kills, he would keep a low profile, and only venture out when they left the remains. So far, he had gone about doing this, unseen.
The tawny Scar answered coldly, his teeth bared, ready to use whatever strength he had left to tear into the throat of this other lion. How dare he steal from him, how dare he walk into his cave when he was asleep, and fill HIS belly with his meat. "I would say, yes. Each lion for his or her own self."
"Us lions are a social creatures, we have to look each other." Scar murmured, and in a gesture of both submission -- not willing nor able to fight for the rest of his feast in his condition -- and persuasion, he rubbed his head underneath the chin of this other lion, who reeked of ashen and blood, just as he did, and of hyena. Perhaps this lion could provide him with more meals. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could be king again. This green eyed lion had been long been a loner, voluntarily and involuntarily . . . But maybe, just maybe, he could also gain something he hadn't had in a long time -- a friend.
"We could benefit from cooperation, we could form a coalition, form a new pride." Scar was now purring, well, as best as lions could purr, and slunk down and weaved himself through the front legs of this other Scar, who's rage was building up within. It was a bold gesture, knowing that he could get himself finished off right here and there. He pushed himself up against the other lion's chest, letting out that purring again, one front paw lifted off the cave floor.
"Taka was my birth name, but you can call me Scar." Scar murmured, his incessant appeasement-flirting behavior continuing with another nuzzle of his head, undoubtedly transferring fleas from his own hyena encounter onto this other disheveled lion, who was trying to move away from him to continue his meal. In a sassy gesture, with a smirk, the red coated lion whisked his tail against him, leaning against the other lion, causing the other lion to stagger slightly from his weak state.
"Taka. I'll call you Taka." The yellow eyed lion growled as he wheeled away from him, by now thinking he was a magnet to this strange lion, who had flopped onto his back like a trying to appease an angry parent.
"Scar." The green eyed lion pouted, looking up at the other He was rather proud of himself for being so persuasive, but within felt scared . . . Of being alone, in such a time when he was vulnerable, thinking at any time Shenzi, Banzai, Ed, and survivors would be looking for him. The Pridelanders surely would kill him if he showed himself to them. He had to start anew.
"It's my preferred name," he further plead. "Taka means dirt, trash, not a decent name. But how rude of me. What may I call you?" He asked, as if the other lion had decided to form a coalition with him.
The other lion snorted, his eyes narrowed as he stared down at this . . . Flirting lion, his ears pinned back in annoyance. He leaned over intimidatingly, hoping for this "Taka" to back off . . . And out of this cave. However, it seemed the more annoyed he got with him, the more this other lion wouldn't leave him be, and indeed he stayed on his back at his feet , his pawing turning to a kneading motion to his thinly maned chest. 'Incessant little shit, isn't he?'
"I'm . . . Scar." He twisted his face into a growl.
Oh how the tawny Scar wanted to tear this strange lion to pieces, especially as they shared their same name! In the position he was in, it would take a single bite, surely he had energy for that. Perhaps he could even get two meals now. But perhaps . . . Perhaps this other Scar was right. A lone male lion only did so well on their own for so long and as it stood, he wasn't exactly having an easy time at it, yet still, he yellow eyed lion, living in exile, hated that this effeminate Scar was right. Inwardly, he knew though would be good to do somethin other than wait in the shadows, getting only scraps.
"I suppose . . . " He sighed, resting on his side next to the other Scar, spending a moment to lick a paw that was suffering from a burn injury, before he took that paw and placed it on the other lion's chest. He rolled his eyes as it elicited that odd purr from the black maned one. 'Sigh. Need to get him a lioness or I'll be the object of his affection for the rest of my life. Why me, with the strange one . . . Attracted to me? Why not some beautiful lioness with a near white cream coat, blue eyes instead? That would be nice, that would be normal. Maybe this is punishment from the powers that be. Oh, it has to be!'
"We could form a coalition." And for the first time, the green eyed Scar saw a smile, a hint of one anyways, from him.
"Might want to tone down on the cuddling. Lionesses might get jealous." He added with a wink.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fanart
Species Lion
Gender Male
Size 1280 x 1147px
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