[Active]
Characters: Timon and Ma
Content: After having caught a cold, Timon is unwillingly forced into his mothers care.
Setting: Under the foorboards of a random building.
Time: Evening
Warnings: None
Timon did his best to refrain from coughing, for even the smallest one to escape would surely deem him bedridden by his mother. Though, she would be right to sentence him to bed, the meerkat having truly needed rest. He was undeniably ill. Timon felt it and had even begun to look so. The long hours spent tracking through the cold, real cold, searching for Simba had done little good. All he had found himself with was a sore throat and stuffed nose. Oh, and a pair of cold feet. He internally groaned as he navigated beneath the floorboards of one of Paixao’s many structures, sniffing back the built up mucus in his nose. No, he definitely was not made for this weather. Not like Pumbaa, whose hooves prevented his feet from feeling the cold at all.
“Ma?” he called out, his voice sounding hoarse, as though he had just woken up. Timon knocked lightly against one of the boards. “You, uh… home? It's just me” That’s what this was to her, right? The redhead searched the darkness for signs of the other meerkat. Of all places to live she had sure picked a dark and dismal place. What the space needed was a ‘skylight’ or, as humans called them, window.
Content: After having caught a cold, Timon is unwillingly forced into his mothers care.
Setting: Under the foorboards of a random building.
Time: Evening
Warnings: None
Timon did his best to refrain from coughing, for even the smallest one to escape would surely deem him bedridden by his mother. Though, she would be right to sentence him to bed, the meerkat having truly needed rest. He was undeniably ill. Timon felt it and had even begun to look so. The long hours spent tracking through the cold, real cold, searching for Simba had done little good. All he had found himself with was a sore throat and stuffed nose. Oh, and a pair of cold feet. He internally groaned as he navigated beneath the floorboards of one of Paixao’s many structures, sniffing back the built up mucus in his nose. No, he definitely was not made for this weather. Not like Pumbaa, whose hooves prevented his feet from feeling the cold at all.
“Ma?” he called out, his voice sounding hoarse, as though he had just woken up. Timon knocked lightly against one of the boards. “You, uh… home? It's just me” That’s what this was to her, right? The redhead searched the darkness for signs of the other meerkat. Of all places to live she had sure picked a dark and dismal place. What the space needed was a ‘skylight’ or, as humans called them, window.