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foxpen — Mlima from the Mountain Shield
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Published: 2021-03-29 19:26:32 +0000 UTC; Views: 7531; Favourites: 9; Downloads: 0
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Description
Name: Mlima ("Mountain")
Pride: Mountain Shield (born), Northern Woods (marriage)
Mate: Majani
Offspring: ???
Family: Ngao (grandfather), Jiwe (father), Imara (mother), Subira (sister), Kokoto (sister)
Story:
Mlima is born the crown prince of his pride, the only boy in a three-cub litter. Although he is the middle child, he is a male, and that is enough to earn him his future crown. While his sisters are allowed to do as they please, Mlima is plucked from his mother’s paws almost as soon as he is weaned and placed under his father’s tutelage.
It’s hard work for a small cub, constantly trailing after his father and trying not only keep up but learn as well. His father, while kind, is a strict taskmaster and teaches Mlima very quickly he must always be the best, the strongest, the smartest if he is to succeed. Mlima knows the borders of his father’s kingdom and is already savvy to the laws that govern his pride before he has even grown out of his cub spots. Every animal in the kingdom knows the young cub’s face, Mlima’s father having made him meet with every herd and flock, and he is praised as an impressively mature young ruler in the making. Still, the cub struggles with loneliness, for although every animal knows of him, he barely knows anyone other than his family.
The rare moments where Mlima is not at his father’s side are spent with his sisters, playing and sharing what their parents have taught them. They are his only close friends, and he desperately stays as close to them as he can, terrified that if they grow apart then he will somehow be left alone. He puts up with all they throw at him, even their ‘girlier’ games, being the mommy lion when the girls don’t want to be. His youngest sister Kokoto sometimes hears strange voices on the wind or speaks of events that haven’t happened…until they do. She is sometimes rather spooky, when her eyes glaze over and she speaks with a voice unlike her own, but Mlima is always there, calling her back to reality, to him, where safety and warmth are waiting for her.
The pride finds this endearing, praising the prince for being so gentle and sweet. He doesn’t like playing their games, but he can’t abide the idea that his sisters won’t like him if he doesn’t.
Mlima is growing a tuft of mane on his head when his father and grandfather are forced to fight off a pair of younger lions attempting to lure away lionesses. While his father is victorious, his wounds are deep, and they quickly become infected. It is a short battle, but Mlima’s father is dead after mere days.
The death of the heir apparent is a huge shock to the kingdom. Indeed, old King Ngao had been making plans to succeed the throne to his son, but the option was stolen by cruel fate. Mlima’s grandfather takes up his training instead, and Mlima realizes the gravity of his responsibilities. His father died to protect the pride, and one day so must he risk life and limb to ensure their safety. His grandfather’s mane is growing grey, and so Mlima determines he will set aside his loneliness.
His mother sings his praises, telling anyone who will listen about her ‘hard working, mature’ son.
King Ngao, although wise, is long of tooth. Mlima, a rambunctious cub, must slow down for the older lion, and learns quickly that interrupting the king is neither tolerated nor clever. In learning to wait for his grandfather, to heed his words and listen, Mlima learns patience. As Mlima grows and his mane begins to creep down his neck, Ngao imparts more and more responsibility onto him. Eventually, every decision the old lion makes must be run by his grandson first. It makes Mlima feel important, at first; then, as even the slightest choices must be made, Mlima is frustrated that he is depended on when the pride was perfectly capable of deciding for themselves. What to hunt, where to sleep, when to visit the watering hole… it becomes so tedious, and Mlima finds his hard-earned patience tested constantly.
The pressure becomes intense, and Mlima begins to feel undeserving of the praise and responsibility that is heaped upon him. He can do no wrong if one were to ask his pride. Everything he does, from patrolling in the morning for his tired grandfather, or watching over his sister’s hunting lessons, is proclaimed to be evidence of his natural leadership skills. Even when Mlima is responsible for a miscommunication and causes an entire gang of meerkats to get stuck on a crumbling cliff edge, he is hailed a hero simply because he admitted it was his mistake. It takes Mlima, his grandfather, a giraffe, and a particularly sympathetic Puff adder to rescue the mob, and yet not once is Mlima chastised for his error.
Mlima grows tired of the constant approval. Since everything he does is hailed as clever or heroic, he has serious doubts as to his own merits.
Is he worth all the fuss? Is accepting his responsibilities really all that impressive? Do other princes have to deal with this? Is he supposed to LIKE it? He takes to wandering the kingdom by himself, sticking to areas where he can be alone and simply exist without adoring eyes following his every move. He finds a cave, not too far from the pride but far enough that he would not be bumped into and decides to make it his den and his alone. It’s small and cramped on the inside, and sometimes there is a small spring that spouts out from a rock and soaks the floor, but it’s the perfect hiding spot. He is especially fond of the single sapling that grows atop the rocky formation that makes up his secret refuge, and dreams of the day when it will grow mighty…and hide him even more.
On one such occasion where the urge to flee was strong, Mlima announces he will patrol the border by himself, insisting his aging grandfather take it easy. He merely wants to be left alone but, of course, he is branded as the kindest lion around for how he cares for his delicate grandfather, and Mlima can barely stop himself from rolling his eyes. His grandfather isn’t yet frail in his old age! However, his grandfather disagrees. Without warning, Ngao announces to the pride that, upon the next equinox, he will pass his crown down to his grandson. Mlima is shocked and terrified; although he is confident in his knowledge, he is still young, and alone. There is no other male in the pride that can fight, and his mane hasn’t even grown in yet! When he brings his concerns to attention, he is hailed as being ‘thoughtful’ and praised for ‘thinking of the future’, yet he is given no answer on how he will deal with threats to the pride.
That night, Mlima flees to his cave, unable to breath through the crushing worry in his chest. He can’t stop himself from crying, terrified that he isn’t good enough, capable enough, or even worthy of being king. Memories of being a barely weaned cub running after his father, crying for the lion to wait for him and being told to ‘grow stronger’ plague his mind, completely negating every kind and encouraging word that was ever said to him. The praise he resented for so long was nowhere to be seen and, in that moment, Mlima can’t comprehend how anyone would ever want him to rule.
By the time Mlima reaches the cave, he is gasping air so quickly that he feels faint. He chokes on his own tongue, grunting and snorting and trying to cram himself into the tight cave mouth so that he can hide away and be lost in the darkness…
Except there’s someone already in there.
In horror, Mlima catches the scent of another lion.
Mlima freezes, thoughts of his bare neck and his dead father tightening his throat. He realizes he’s trembling, yet through the panic his training takes hold. He steels himself as best he can, stepping forward and, with a deep wince at the ill-timed crack in his voice, hails the other beast.
“Hello?”
For a moment, there is silence. He can’t even hear the other presence breathing, and he tempts relief by pondering if it was just his imagination in the dark…but the other voice answers back, weak and timid.
“Hi…”
The voice, barely above a whisper, is distinctly feminine, and Mlima practically melts as the fear leaves his chest.
“You’re…just a girl!” he practically cries in relief, collapsing onto his haunches without the adrenaline to keep him standing firm. Not only is the other creature a lioness, but she’s also completely alone! He’s SAFE.
Just as he’s about to introduce himself and ask her what she’s doing in his cave, Mlima is taught a very quick lesson in underestimating strangers. A weight strikes him with such force that he’s knocked over. He sticks a paw out, desperate to find purchase and steady himself, yet only finds fangs sinking deep into his flesh.
Caught completely off-guard, Mlima shrieks and flails about to dislodge his attacker. He doesn’t understand WHY she was hurting him, and his already uneasy mood sends him hurtling from the cave the very moment he feels her jaws loosen. He bursts out of the rocks, screaming with absolutely no dignity, and doesn’t stop until he is chin deep in a narrow stream.
The cool water soothes him, but his mind continues to tick. Why the heck did that crazy lioness attack him? He had only said hello, after all, so why had the rogue felt so compelled to fight? Was it because he was a male? He could understand how he may have intimidated her, but surely she saw he was just a youth? He was large for a lion his age, but surely she saw he wasn’t a threat to her? Surely, in that dark, wet cave, cornered and alone in a land where she clearly didn’t belong…
Ah.
Mlima soaks in the water a little longer, embarrassed that he hadn’t acted faster and engaged in conversation BEFORE the rogue had a chance to attack. As future king, he should be the first to act, not be sent running from a lioness half his size. She probably thought him a rude coward, and word would surely get out that the prince of the rock lands was a mewling cub. She clearly was dangerous, and he’d perhaps have to drive her out.
Pride and dignity bruised, Mlima decides he will wait until dawn, when they can both see each other proper, to try again and confront the lioness.
Sunrise comes as surely as ever, and Mlima barely wakes up in time to spot the lioness creeping out of the cave. For the first time, he sees her, and he sees the deep wounds that cover her body. Fear gone, running as fast as he can on his swollen paw, he cries out to her, pleading with her to wait, that he was sorry for the previous night and hadn’t meant to scare her. She freezes, and he does too, nervous of another attack. When she doesn’t budge, he approaches her and, at long last, introduces himself.
“Hello! I’m Mlima.”
He smiles, waiting for a reply. The lioness, pale gold and with fresh wounds scattered across her body, shoots him a suspicious look with the fiercest, most intense eyes he has ever seen. She’s terrifying, and the only thing that keeps Mlima standing there is that she appears to have been born the same season as he. She’s small and lithe and wouldn’t stand a chance against even his grandfather, but she’s young and alone and scared and he can’t stand that he’s the source of this horribly thick tension.
He steps forward, and she skitters back several paces.
“I won’t hurt you,” he promises, and chuckles as he lifts his injured paw. “Not that I would stand a chance, anyway. You are one fierce little lady!”
Her eyes soften and, for a moment, she almost looks as if she’ll cry.
“Again, I’m so sorry for scaring you last night,” he begins, startled by the change in her posture. “I didn’t mean to, I just…forgot to check if anyone was home.” He laughs, nervous as she still hasn’t said anything. “Nobody really ever uses that cave, you know, so I…I just…kind of…uhuuhm.”
She’s squinting at him now and he feels incredibly warm under his pelt. Her gaze is scrutinizing, and he becomes aware of every flaw on his face and every mistake he’s ever made. Sure that she’s about to tell him how unworthy and unimpressive he is, Mlima tries to think of something clever to say.
“How’re you from?”
Damn it.
“I mean, where are you?”
DAMN it.
“Uhuuuhm…”
“I’m… Majani,” she says, slowly raising a brow and tilting her head. A tiny smile tugs at the corner of her mouth and Mlima almost falls over, grateful that at least one of them isn’t a dumb pile of rocks.
His thoughts and words come easier then, and he explains that he is from a pride that resides nearby. She asks him about the cave, and he tells her it’s his little hiding spot for when he needs to get away and take a break from his family. They talk and Mlima finds himself wanting to comfort the lioness; her wounds are so fresh that they must still be painful, and she is stiff in an attempt not to rip them open further. He tells her about his pride, divulging information he knows is unwise to give up to an outsider, but she seems to ease up when he tells her his grandfather is grey and he has two sisters. He asks her how she got to be so hurt, and she blatantly lies to him about falling out of a tree, but he doesn’t mind. She’s alone, and she must protect herself as best she can.
A simple introduction turns into hours of talking. They ARE of the same age, and they relate to so many things he’d never imagine an outsider could comprehend. Her pelt and her long, hooked claws betray her as from the forested lands to the north, but Majani scales every rock she comes across like a hyrax and Mlima can’t help but be amazed. He tells her as much, and he is delighted when they make a game of seeing how high she can climb. She even catches them a small meal, flying up and down the steep, rocky hills as though she were water.
He’s found a friend, and she doesn’t heap compliments on him at every turn. He’s known her less than a day and she’s attacked him, lied to him, and called him a rock-head at least twice! When Majani decides it’s time to return home, Mlima tells her she can use the cave whenever she likes. She doesn’t tell him if she’ll come back, but he secretly hopes she does. He hopes that whoever gave her those wounds wasn’t waiting for her wherever ‘home’ was for the young lioness.
Returning to his own home, he is immediately outed by his sharp sisters. They smell a foreign lion on him and beg to know of his adventures. It was just a rogue, he tells them. His grandfather gets involved, asking questions and Mlima, suddenly terrified of scrutiny and disapproval, tells his old mentor the lioness left on their own accord.
“A lioness, eh?”
Mlima braces for reprimand.
“GOOD! A diplomatic approach is better with lioness. Now, a MALE, that’s when you fight…”
For once, Mlima is grateful for the unconditional approval.
Mlima goes back to the cave every day, searching for any fresh signs of Majani. One day, she is there waiting for him, and they play until they drop from exhaustion. Sometimes she finds him, even when he is no where near their cave retreat, and their meetings become the only thing that calms his constant worries. They share their secrets, worries, and hopes of the future. Mlima is always distressed when Majani shares tales of how ill her family teats her, but she never once cries or shares more than he can stand. He, too, bears the burden of responsibility, but he still worries for her. Like a mountain, she stands firm in her obligations, but like a tree, she is wild and can not be contained. It makes her situation worse, the more she fights it, and part of him wants to simply whisk her away and save her from her troubles. She refuses, of course; she doesn’t want to be saved, and it hurts Mlima to know he is powerless. If he can’t help his friend, how is he supposed to be an asset to his future kingdom?
How can he be a king when he can’t even be a good friend?
The equinox comes, and Mlima wishes desperately he had found and invited Majani into the pride. His grandfather passes the ceremonial stones to him and he takes them, reciting his oath to the land, prayer to the spirits above, and promise to his people. Even as every lion of his pride congratulates him, and every leader of the herds accept him as their new king, Mlima feels incredibly alone.
His mane grows in more and more, and Majani’s visits become more frequent. Their talks have matured with them, and Mlima finds himself worrying about the lioness of the Northern Forest pride. He knows, even though she won’t admit it, that her father was the lion who had attacked her so many moons ago. He knows, even though she refuses to cry, that she’s in absolute agony over how poorly her pride mistreats her. She’s a princess, but she’s cast aside like rotted meat by her own family, and Mlima desperately wishes to scoop his friend out of such a dark place. He tries to show her empathy, admitting to her that his own family is sometimes insufferable in their self-inflicted dependence upon him, but he knows that being annoyed by compliments is nothing compared to being bartered like an object.
His sisters know something is up as seeing their brother depressed is very unusual indeed. His mane, growing in, is constantly being braided or combed in styles the lions of the rock lands don’t normally sport; a sure sign someone is showering him with attention. He tells them, over and over, it’s just a rogue, here and there, that he demands leave their lands or chases off. They smirk, not believing his weak story, and Mlima becomes frightened that they’ll betray his secret friend or follow him and demand he drive Majani away.
In his fear, and with a healthy dose of playful flirting, Mlima tries to entice Majani to stay, to join with his pride where she’ll be respected and treated like proper family should be! His sisters would adore her, with her golden pelt and quick wit, but Majani refuses him time and time again. Like him, she is bound by obligation and, like him, she is a slave to expectations. It’s precisely for that reason that Mlima never reveals he is a king. He worries that his own responsibilities, his own entrapment to tradition will send his friend flying. She is who and how he spends his precious free time with, and if he didn’t have her, he would be lost.
One evening as Mlima returns home from visiting with Majani, his grandfather approaches him. The old lion has caught on to his grandson’s absences, and the scent of a foreign lioness. He asks Mlima if this…rogue will be joining them, and Mlima, in panic and shame, claims she’s just a starving young stray whom he lets poach off the border of their lands and the forest lands. She’s no interest in staying, and will no doubt not be around much longer. His grandfather gives him such a stare that Mlima’s heart feels like it might explode in panic.
“Tell her she’s welcome,” Ngao says with a wink, and Mlima practically cries on the spot with relief. The relief is short lived, for soon his own mother finds out he’s been cavorting with a rogue lady. She wants more grandcubs than what his older sister has provided, and Mlima’s younger sister isn’t yet up to the task. But he, as a PRINCE, well…he has obligations!
Obligations?
A new weight is put upon his shoulders, one that he has no interest in bearing and certainly no interest in subjecting his already pressured friend to. He doesn’t know what to do and finds himself avoiding the cave where he and Majani meet. While their visits become less frequent, he still desperately looks forward to his friend’s arrival.
One day, Mlima tries again to playfully tempt Majani to run away from home and roam the world with him, but her annoyance boils over into an enraged indignation. She can’t stay with him and his constant reminding her of an escape she can’t take advantage of drives her mad with rage. Mlima can’t calm her down and, filled with regret and utter shock at how powerful her pain is, simply lets her take it out on him. He apologizes, trying to make her see that he understands, he really does, but when Majani finally calms down enough to see reason, she only sees how hopeless her situation is…and blames herself. His heart breaks for her, and Mlima feels he has failed his friend. He could never save her, only show her a life she could never have, and it absolutely devastates him that he could be so selfish.
So unhappy is her son that Mlima’s mother approaches him to inquire deeper about the source of his discontent. He gives in, spilling his secrets to her and apologizing over and over for his self-perceived betrayal. His mother consoles him, revealing to him that she knew all along it was always the one lioness, and not just rogue after rogue he showed kindness too. She knew he would never have eyes for any other than his 'Majani' lady.
Kokoto’s peculiar ability to see into the distant future had revealed to her, long ago, that Mlima would find a friend from a tree in a cave and, together, they would carry the sacred stones of his people as seeds and their bond would cause those seeds to bloom into great things.
“Go get her,” his mother tells him.
“But what will Grandpa say?” he foolishly asks.
His mother, warm and loving, tells him not to worry. She will let Ngao know, sure that the old king would be delighted Mlima found a princess to love and hold dear.
Weeks of avoiding Majani, of pining for her presence, sends Mlima leaping into action. He runs, as fast as his heavy paws can take him, to their cave, to find Majani there waiting for him!
…and she weeps. She weeps more than the rainy season could ever hope to.
She is broken.
She is broken to pieces, and there is nothing he can do to make it better.
Her duties, her responsibilities; they have claimed her at last. She is to be sent away, sold as land is bartered, to some foreign prince in some foreign land who will breed her and forget her and care not for her happiness.
His mind, his heart, they scream at him to save her from her fate that she has so miserably accepted…but he can not. Her rage and sorrow have long been brewing, and who is he to step in the way of destiny?
He is a king, sworn to protect his people; to interfere would be to bring war and misery. He can not save her, and he can not change their fates. The only thing he can do is let her cry upon his shoulder and restrain his own sorrow to be strong for her. Helpless, he stays with Majani as long as he can, grieving their forfeited friendship and her terrible destiny.
For days, he returns to their cave, hoping to spot her hiding amongst the boulders or darting up a rock after a lizard. She isn’t there, and her scent grows stale, and Mlima returns home time and time again in terrible sadness. His mother does her best to console him, to tell him that Majani was wise to adhere to duty and it saved them much conflict, but he knows she is disappointed with the turn of events. He feels worse for it, chastising himself for not making Majani stay wit him and see how wonderful and free she could have been.
One morning, his sister Kokoto wakes him in a fit. She screams until he is roused, crying and roaring and fighting some foe that is not there, pleading with him to help her, to save her from the jaws that clamp around her face and crush her skull.
“Not alone!” she weeps. “PLEASE! I CAN’T DO IT ALONE!”
Mlima tries to help her, to calm her down, but Kokoto will not stop screaming about the pain, the blood, the fear of being so alone! Her head ACHES and she-
She collapses, gasping and struggling against the weight of death. Mlima begs her to be strong, tells her he won’t ever leave, he’s always there for her…
Then Kokoto sits up, blinking and confused. She can’t remember what happened, barely recalls where she is.
There is a roar upon the wind, distant but close enough Mlima feels his skin shiver.
“Majani…”
The King of the Mountain Shield pride runs, hurling himself across the land. Nothing slows him and, like a rockslide barreling down the mountain, he lets no reason nor calm stop him.
Mlima finds the cave, smelling the blood before it’s even in sight. Majani’s screams are matched by the furious roars of another lion, though nothing can match the sound Mlima lets forth upon seeing Majani’s head in the jaws of the assailant. He throws himself into the intruding male, heedless of the other lion’s strength and size, driven by a ferocity he has never experienced in his life. All logic, all conscious thought is gone; there is only Majani and the rogue that would dare harm her.
The Mountain King fights with every ounce of his strength, never relenting, never giving so much as a thought to mercy. Majani of the Northern Forest rises from what would have been her grave and hurtles into the fray beside him.
Together, they rend flesh from bone, and end the threat that would have gladly seen them both dead.
Heaving breaths replace screams of battle. Mlima looks on at the destruction he has wrought, wondering how he could have ever been capable of such bloodshed. He gapes, horrified that such a threat had come to his lands, and his eyes set upon the golden princess.
Was this her betrothed? No, she wouldn’t have fought, not after her entire life had been spent in sickening acceptance…what had happened? Had she wanted death? Had she wanted him to murder?! He can barely form the words, accusing her of setting this horrible battle into motion. Why had she picked his lands for battle, of all places, when he had offered her sanctuary so many times before? He had begged her to stay with him, and she had left, and now she returned but with blood and teeth and violence…
“Why?” he asks, desperate for an answer. Why had she made him do this when she could have just run away with him like he had so subtly begged her before? Why? How could she?!
“I couldn’t win alone.”
Her eyes, full of fear and pain and pleading, strike him just as hard as the first time he had seen her in the sunlight. Her scent collides with his heaving gasps, and he knows exactly what has happened.
As if her life hadn’t been cruel enough. He can’t help his rage at the injustice of it all and, for the first time in his life, Mlima is sure. He goes to her; their faces press and there are no words that need be uttered. They are alive and together and, in that moment, that is all he cares about.
His pride, quiet in the wake of such frightening violence, approaches the pair with nervous tension. His sisters, his mother, even old Ngao comes to see what had happened. Mlima addresses them, giving no heed to the corpse of the usurper behind him; his throne is safe, his lands and people and Love defended.
Majani is accepted just as Mlima always knew. His sisters fawn over her and his mother delights in a new daughter. The entire pride is impressed by the lioness with the strength and tenacity of ten males her size, and Majani is hailed a hero for her cunning and bravery.
Ngao, ever the diplomat, subtly reminds Majani that she has defeated the conquering outsider and earned her family’s throne back. She is a queen now, not just a princess, and Majani is startled by this information.
“You were always a Queen,” Mlima whispers to her. “You simply took the title for yourself rather than have it forced on you.”
With bones still aching and wounds still bleeding, they wed that very evening. Mlima refuses to leave her side again and Majani will not let him. They are always touching, always leaning against each other or with their tails curled about. They remain that way for the rest of their lives, and it soothes Mlima to know he is sure he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Life is not perfect for them. Majani’s own sister demands her stolen throne returned to her, and when diplomacy does not work with the Mountain Shield pride, she opts for war. Mlima is again reminded of the cruelty of Majani’s family, of their blatant disregard for her. A challenge appears at his border once again in the form of a lion who had been meant to wed his bride, and several lions stand behind Majani’s fleeting former fiancé. Mlima prepares himself for battle, his fear quelled by his love, desire to protect his wife, and maintain the happiness they have finally found.
Yet, it is Majani who steps forth and uses words instead of violence. The Queen of the Northern Forest and the Mountain Shield hosts a meeting with the spurned prince of a foreign land, and her ferocity is felt in every syllable she utters.
No one will take from her what she has earned. No one will steal from her what she has fought for.
With Mlima by her side, the foreign prince concedes. Even he, with his pride, the dowager queen, and the slighted princess of the forest lands behind him can not stand the mighty force that is the love Mlima and Majani have for one another.
Peace is made. No blows are struck, no teeth are bared.
The Northern Forest and the Mountain Shield accept their new Queen, and Mlima, as king, proclaims the prides joined as one.
Together, King Mlima and Queen Majani reign as beloved monarchs. Their love is ferocious, their loyalty unmatched, and their devotion to each other is shared unto their people. Majani takes her time to learn that not everything is a battle while simultaneously providing much needed strength and security to the pride. Mlima showers her with all the praise he had ever received and more, his fears and insecurities lifted now that she stood with him. Her ferocity and his patience enable them to rule in a fair and balanced manner that affords their lands peace and prosperity.
In the evening of their reign, they revisit their little cave where so much of their lives had been spent pining for better days. The small sapling Mlima had been so fond of had grown, it’s roots creeping through the rocks and causing the spring to crack open and flood the grove with crisp, clean water. Flowers and plants covered every inch of what had once been a mere clearing of bland grasses and shrubs.
There, Mlima carves the symbol of his pride and Majani’s into the tree, declaring the site sacred to the lands and history of its people. The tree becomes known across the kingdom as the ‘Tree of Life’, a tribute to it’s forest dwelling queen and mountain king that loved each other so much that none could deny how their passion would influence the lands for eternity.
~*~*~
...didn't see THAT twist coming, didja?! Haaahahaha suck it Lion Guard, I do what I want!
Mlima, king of...anxiety. Look at him, just sitting there, being stupidly adorable. Him and Majani are perfect for each other; one is too anxious to do anything meaningful while the other is too angry to NOT do anything meaningful. I love this giant sweetheart.
Majani, Mlemi, and characters © foxpen
TLK and all associated properties © Disney
