Scar in Exile Part 1 (Patreon)

Scar's days as King are over, but at his new home in a wildlife preserve, he still lives like royalty! With Scar fat and happy, it all seems too good to be true...

Happy Holidays, everyone! Thanks for your support through this crazy year, and see just how chubby Scar gets in part two, out in January!

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The magnitude of Scar’s mistake was just starting to hit him as the hyenas surrounded the freshly deposed king of Pride Rock. In his last desperate moments as King, he had tried to blame them for the famine afflicting the Pridelands, and now, he was at their mercy. The dark-maned lion smiled widely at the hyenas, their pack leader Shenzi closing in. “Ah, my friends!”

“Friends?” Shenzi scoffed. “But I thought he said we were the enemies!”

“Yeah,” Shenzi’s second, Banzai, nodded. “That’s what I heard.”

Both the hyenas turned to their third. “Ed?”

The craziest of the hyenas cackled madly, licking his lips meaningfully. A chorus of laughter rose up as eyes illuminated by the fire consuming Pride Rock met Scar. “No- no, let me explain- no, you don’t understand-!”

The hyena pack lunged for Scar, drowning out his protests. It was the end of Scar’s reign, and, he was certain, his life. A dozen jaws held down his limbs, tail, and head as the hyenas scarpered off with their prize, away from the building inferno engulfing the Pridelands. Scar went from begging for mercy to saying a silent prayer that it would be over quick and painless, and then to hoping he gave each and every one of these ingrates indigestion.

“How’re we going to divvy him up?” Banzai asked as the hyenas got far enough away from the fire.

“Well, I’ll take the haunches, obviously,” Shenzi began.

“What? But you always get the haunches! They have the juiciest meat!” Banzai cried.

“Yeah. I get it ‘cuz I’m the leader of the pack, bonehead.”

“Ahem,” Scar dared to speak, smiling blandly at his former hench-hyenas. “I daresay that, with my meager frame, I would make a poor meal for the entire pack. I’m so naturally lean- weak knees, anemic conditions don’t you know- perhaps we could postpone the feast until I’ve fattened up a little- make my, ah, final feast a truly grand affair.”

Ed snarled, snapping viciously at the lion as he scratched him across the snout.

“Shut up, Scar!” Shenzi shouted. “There’s no talking your way out of this one.”

Banzai furrowed his brow softly. “I don’t know… don’t we want to make this a good meal? We earned it, after all.”

“Think, Banzai!” Shenzi snapped. “If we let Scar loaf around our den while we go get food for him, he’ll escape the first chance he gets, and then the Pride Rock lions will think we helped him. No.” She stamped a paw into the ground, bearing her fangs at Scar. “We eat him, right here, right now. Ed! Go for the throat!”

Scar, trying to hold back a whimper, closed his eyes and braced for the end, until one of the hyenas sounded an alarm. “Car!”

“Car!” another hyena shouted. “Car! Car! Car!”

The hyena pack, including Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed, scattered as a hulking monstrosity with bright, glowing eyes that could pierce through the night rumbled forward. Scar had seen such things before- the other animals believed they were monsters, but the lion knew better; they were some sort of device, a trick, that man used to travel great distances. Sure enough, the car opened on either side, and two humans got out. Too wounded and battered from his fight, Scar lay there- if they pulled out one of their weapons, he’d snap at them; but otherwise, perhaps they could be of use to him.

“Jeez, look at this fella,” one of them said, crouching down next to Scar. “Did he get into a fight with the whole Savannah?”

“Looks like he’s escaping that wildfire,” the other said, surveying the Pride Lands beyond. “Welp. This is probably the best bet we’ll have at getting the lion Mr. Westmore wants.”

“He’s awfully scrawny…” the other said, tilting his head as he looked Scar over.

“Westmore’s got a compound that costs more than some countries, I think we’ll be fine,” the other human said. “We can feed him up and bring him back- make him fat and happy, like a pet cat.”

The first human clicked his tongue. “Good enough for me- let’s get this guy in back, then, before anyone shows up to put out the fire.” He pulled out a small pistol, loaded with a tranquilizer dart. Scar’s heart skipped a beat when he saw it, and he moved to lunge at the human, but something pricked him in the side. He stood there, dazed, and stumbled forward to go after this vile creature that dared attack him, before his eyes swam, and everything went dark…

Scar awoke to something poking him in the side. “Hello? Hellooo? Buddy, you awake?”

The lion snarled, his eyes opening to see an antelope poking him in the side. Roaring, he took a swipe at the antelope, who leapt back in shock. “How dare you touch me? Do you know who I am? I am King of Pride Rock, son of King Ahadi!”

“Whoa! Whoa, easy, easy, buddy!” the antelope said. “We’re all friends, here.”

“Friends? Ha!” Scar scoffed, standing up to his full height. With a hungry glint in his eye, he began to circle the antelope. “Kings have no friends, they have followers- and prey.”

“Oop! He used the ‘p’ word! Manny, could you cool him off?”

“Manny? Who is Manny, and what would he dare try against- gah!” Scar turned around just in time to see the fattest rhino he had ever seen sit on top of him, smothering the lion in a tidal wave of grey, leathery flab. “Get this creature off of me this instant! I demand it! I am King!”

“Easy there, Your Highness, we wanna be your pals, but we gotta lay down a few ground rules, first,” the antelope said. Scar, getting a look at him, realized this antelope, too, was particularly well-fed; his thin, spring legs were holding up a particularly round torso and set of haunches. “My name’s Tojo, friends call me Jo. I am here to officially welcome you to the Westmore Wildlife Preserve, where everyone gets along. First off- no hunting any other animals.”

“No hunting?” Scar gasped. “Well how, exactly, do you suggest I get along with everyone when I’m starving to death?”

“Ah, wait, wait- such an impatient one, this guy is!” Tojo chuckled. “The humans here feed us, all the food we want- so, you get all kinds of choice meats, you can eat to your heart’s content, so there’s no need to hunt, boom! Problem solved. You don’t starve, and we don’t live in fear of you.”

“Don’t live in- I’m a lion!” Scar protested. “I am King! Lions were born to rule, not be chummy with their dinner!”

“Geesh, Jo- I think this one’ll need a lotta work,” Manny grunted. “I recognize that accent he’s got- pure Pridelands. Those guys live like it’s still the Middle Ages.”

“How else is one supposed to live? It is the law of nature! The Circle of Life!” Scar protested. “The monarchy of Pride Rock goes back a hundred generations, it is a very respected institution!”

“Well, while we respect your beliefs, friend, we here at the Westmore Wildlife Preserve believe in a decentralized, anarcho-democratic autonomous collective,” Tojo explained.

Scar blinked at the antelope. “What?”

“He means we don’t have a king, here,” Manny grunted.

“No king?” the lion gasped. “How do you decide which herds graze on which fields, the times which animals drink water, schedule mating seasons, and how do separate the dead and dying members of your herds?”

“Ah, that would be, in order, the humans, humans, humans, aaaand humans,” Tojo explained. “They take care of everything for us- they provide our food, our water- they take care of us if anyone gets sick, and otherwise, we do whatever we like, so, you know, hakuna maracas, it means no-”

“No!” Scar roared, nearly scrambling out from underneath the rhino’s bulk. “If you finish butchering that phrase, I will tear out your throat!”

“Okay, okay, jeez,” the antelope blinked. “Such a temper on this one- still, we respect your boundaries. Westmore Wildlife Preserve is a safe space, so we will respect your trigger words if you agree to stop threatening us. Do you agree?”

Scar’s eye was twitching. “Fine.”

“Alright, Manny, let him up.”

The gargantuan rhino rolled off of Scar, letting the lion up. Scar glanced back at Manny, convinced the rhino was twice as wide as he was tall at the shoulder- his belly was large enough it was nearly dragging along the grass. A thought then came to Scar. “Wait now, I have heard of this- it happened to our uncle Kama, he was taken in by some leader of the humans- they fed him, pampered him, put a strap of leather around his neck- what was he called? Pest- no, pet, pet! You let the humans turn you into pets?”

“Oh, no, the humans don’t expect us to do tricks or anything,” Tojo explained. “They don’t even watch us or anything. We just get to do whatever we want!”

“Which mainly means eating,” Manny grunting, his belly bumping into Scar as he shuffled past.

“Come on, friend, we’ll introduce you to everyone else.”

Scar, his brow arched quizzically, prowled behind Tojo and Manny. The preserve was pristinely kept- the grass was as green as the lion had ever seen, the water clear as crystal, and the trees that dotted the enclosure well-groomed and beautiful to look at. It seemed like a paradise, but two things were eating at the back of his mind: one, he wasn’t in charge here, which would have to change promptly, and two, every animal he saw was very well-fed. Manny was the largest, but every animal he saw, from the antelope, wildebeest, and gorillas, down to the smallest dormouse, were all plump and round. Scar narrowed his eyes; he knew a scheme when he saw one. He kept it to himself, however, as he was led to a clearing where all the other animals gathered.

“Alright, thank you for coming everyone, we have a new arrival!” Tojo announced. “This is… uh, buddy, what’s your name, again?”

“Scar.”

“S-scar? Really? Because of the…” Tojo canted his head, gesturing to the lion’s scarred eye. “Right- right! We don’t judge, here. Everyone, this is Scar- he’s new at the Westmore, and he comes from the Pridelands, so we’re all going to give him a big welcome, right?”

“Hello, Scar,” the animals all said in unison.

“...Yes. Well. Thank you,” Scar cleared his throat. “I am honored that you would welcome me into your realm.”

“Actually, we prefer to think of ourselves as a community or commune,” a crocodile warbled, so fat that he had flopped on his side, belly splayed out on the grass like a scaly balloon.

“...Right. I shall keep that in mind. I am certain that we shall all get along splendidly, then- I have been informed of the rules of your… community, and as such, I promise, paw on my heart,” he placed one clawed paw over his chest, “that I will not lay a hand on any other creature here- and I shall also be glad to intervene on any animal’s behalf, should they feel threatened.”

Tojo grinned. “Oh, very good, Scar! Those are very kind words, I think that deserves a round of stomps. Everyone?”

The various animals rhythmically stomped their hooves and paws against the ground, which ended when a shrill ringing sound caught their attention.

“Dinner’s ready,” Manny grunted, the swollen rhino already trundling away.

“Come on, Scar,” Tojo said, bumping his thick side against the lion. “I’ll show you where you’ll be eating alongside your fellow carnivores.”

Brow still arched, Scar followed Tojo towards a massive trough filled with juicy cuts of raw, fresh meat. Jostling for room around the trough was the same bloated crocodile, a pot-bellied cheetah, and a rotund hyena. Scar’s eyes met with the hyena, and the lion caught the recognition shining in her eyes.

“Everyone, this is Scar, he’s a first timer, so-”

“Your Majesty!” the hyena trotted away from the trough and bowed low, pressing her snout against the ground as her belly pressed down on the grass.

“Now, Khavi, remember, no name calling, Westmore is an animal safe space,” Tojo chided softly.

“Oh! It’s not a rude name- it’s his title.” Khavi trotted close to Scar. “This wonderful lion worked so hard for the rights of my pack. We helped him depose his evil brother, and he promised to let the hyenas hunt as much as they wanted- just like lions! I was going on my first hunt for actual, fresh ante-” she cleared her throat looking at Tojo. “A-ants. Giant ants. Anyway, I was preparing for the hunt when I was snatched up by the car and brought here!”

Scar’s eyes darted between Tojo and the other carnivores. Sitting properly, he tilted his chin up. “Yes, well. I sought to use the office of King responsively, for the welfare of all my subjects. I did try to tell you, Tojo.”

“Oh! Well, I had no idea you were an advocate, Scar, good on you. As it is your first time, we do have a little tradition here at Westmore,” Tojo nudged Scar towards the trough. “Eat ‘til you drop!”

Scar glanced down at the meat, then back at Tojo. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, well, we all try to see how much we can eat for our first meal here- Manny is our current champion, eating one hundred and fifty pounds of greens in one meal,” Tojo said.

“I… see. Well, let me just tuck in, then?” Scar glanced down at the meat, sniffing it once. Nothing struck him as out of place, in fact, it smelled quite delicious…

“Aw, c’mon,” the cheetah grinned. “It’s not going to bite back.”

Scar took a bite of the meat, and then all at once, he was reminded he hadn’t eaten since his fight with Simba. His stomach snarled angrily, and the lion dove his face in. He couldn’t place the animal, but the meat was juicy and tender, falling apart in his mouth. It was also flavored with something that wasn’t meat- he couldn’t put his mind to it, but it was sharp, though not so powerful as to overpower the meat. He snapped for every scrap he could get, stuffing his face, leaning into the trough until his belly ached from being so full. Finally, he slumped on the ground, his tail swishing lazily as a paw went to his swollen middle.

“Ah, good on you, new guy!” The cheetah said. “That must’ve been, what, twenty pounds of meat? That’s one of the best showings for carnivores!”

“Ugh… thank you. Just… let me lie here, until I regain feeling in my legs,” Scar groaned. He would have to watch himself in the future; the last thing he wanted to do here was lose sense of his wits by overeating.

Scar dozed off, and when he awoke, it was well into the night. Picking himself up, he decided to find a den of his own, here- but then he spotted Khavi. The plump hyena was staring right at him.

“Can I help you- er, Khavi, was it?”

The hyena trotted over to Scar’s side. “Oh, yes! I knew you wouldn’t forget me, sire! How is everyone? Is Shenzi doing well? Banzai and Ed, are they eating well?”

Scar immediately nodded sagely. “Oh, yes, yes- the hyenas have never eaten so well, I am quite glad to say. Why, you would look terribly svelte, by comparison- I daresay Shenzi has put on too much weight than is good for her.” He leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. “She insists she’s pregnant with pups, but what hyena is pregnant for over a year, I ask you?”

Khavi laughed. “Oh, what a relief! But sire, what are you doing here?”

Scar put a paw to his face. “Oh! What vile treachery! My nephew, whom I long thought dead, returned- and what a savage his years away from the Pridelands had made him! I was ready to give him his rightful throne, of course, but he feared the love the Pridelands bore me, and cruelly chased me out! I may have died had I not been found by the humans.”

“Oh! Oh no,” Khavi pressed her head against Scar’s sympathetically. “My king! How terrible for you.”

“It is no matter now, of course- I can never go back. I must soldier on, but you know what I dread, Khavi? I dread not being able to help my fellow animal as I used to. I fear I will go quite mad in a place like this- I was never one for idleness and leisure. I simply must have an occupation. And while I would never impose on the liberated views of this fine, er, commune, I would like to help where I can.” He turned to Khavi. “Will you help me, then, Khavi? Help me help others, like I did for the hyenas?”

“Oh! Of course, my King, of course,” Khavi said, bowing her head.

“Excellent…” Scar hid the smile tugging at his muzzle. “Now, what you must do is be my eyes and ears. If you find any disagreement or fight breaking out in the preserve, then you remind those involved that I am only too happy to mediate- and as a fresh arrival with no biases towards anyone here, why, I am ideal.”

“Oh!” Khavi hopped on her feet, her belly jiggling. “Oh, how wonderful, my king! Yes, I will do whatever I can to let the others know.”

“Good.” Scar patted Khavi’s head fondly. “I did know I could count on you… but now, I think I would profit from some sleep.”

With Khavi spreading the word of Scar’s generous offer, the first phase of his plan was beginning smoothly. The problems that faced the animals of the Westmore Preserve were incredibly trivial; when all their needs had been cared for, what else did they have? Arguments about cutting in line for the trough at feeding time, whose belly was bigger, or who could eat the most were easily solved. From there, it was an easy thing to ask for some form of payment- some morsel of food brought to his den beside the feeding trough for each argument he resolved. It was child’s play; Scar hardly had to try, as the humans came in and pampered every animal, including himself, leaving nothing but small matters for him to sort through.

The usual Westmore lifestyle, however, did not leave Scar unchanged; his swollen middle from his first meal did not ebb for long, as a lack of any serious exercise and as much food as he could eat began to fill him out. His limbs thickened, and his chest broadened, and for a moment, Scar thought he might finally be cutting the same, regal figure his brother had- if it weren’t for how soft he was. His middle rounded out more and more, filling out the space between his legs until he could feel the tall grass brushing against it. Even as his face rounded out, a double chin hidden by his mane, Scar found himself oddly at peace with the transformation; it would mean he could never survive in the Pridelands on his own, but here, it was exactly the lifestyle a King should have, in his mind. He soon had the other animals eating out of his paw, and they, in turn, fed him from their own meals.

Scar lounged on his back, gnawing on a bone for the last morsels of flavored meat on it, his round boulder of a belly slowly encroaching on his line of sight. As he rested from another large meal, he almost wanted to thank Simba- what did the Pridelands have that Westmore lacked?

Imperceptible to Scar, a camera was hidden amongst one of the rocks that made up his den. Watching the monitor of the fat, lazy lion, a man in a finely tailored suit leaned back in his chair. “Well, I see our new acquisition is coming along nicely,” Mr. Westmore mused. “How long until you think he’s ready?”

One of Mr. Westmore’s attendants rubbed his chin. “Well, if he’s anything like the others, I think a month or so, and he’ll be at the appropriate weight.”

“Excellent, excellent! My chef has found a delectable recipe for lion…” Westmore switched through the monitors, licking his lips meaningfully at the sight of the humongous rhino he had been cultivating. “I do think he’s about ready, however- I’ve promised my nephew rhino steaks for his birthday this weekend- see to it that he’s taken care of; he looks big enough to feed a party of thirty, at least.”

“Of course, Mr. Westmore.”

The man chuckled, filtering back through the monitors to his newest addition, the lion. “Oh, you enjoy that- make sure you get every last scrap of meat, boy. A full lion is a happy lion, and a happy lion is a tasty lion, I’ve found.”