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KING OF ASH
By annabethred9 (#59930)
Ash scurried forward, keeping low to the ground. A group of lions sat in the center of a clearing, whispering frantically. They were all extremely wild looking, with many scars and tangled manes. Ash had heard about them of course, and he knew that they were all rogue. They didn’t care about the rules of the jungle or abide by anyone’s rules. Ash, being a king, didn’t really understand that, but he knew enough to realize that if they caught him, he would be killed. However, his curiosity got the best of him and he needed to know what they were always talking about.
Ash had spent ages disguising himself, trying to make it easier for him to blend in with the foliage. He had stuck dozens of leaves and clumps of moss into his mane and smeared his red pelt with mud and dirt. Ash thought he did a pretty good job, especially since he’d spent nearly a whole night preparing his disguise.
Ash strained his ears, trying hard not to make any noise. He could pick up bits and pieces of the conversation, catching words like ‘attack’ and ‘strategy’. He carefully crept forward, his whole body tense. Suddenly, his paw landed on a brittle stick which snapped in half, a sound that reverberated around the quiet forest.
“Did ya hear that?” one of the lions demanded. Ash inhaled sharply, paralyzed with fear that he might be found out.
“It was probably just a rabbit Olc. Stop being such a wuss.” “Aw, shut yer mouth,” ‘Olc’ snarled, his voice thick with a foreign accent. They were acting awfully secretive, which let Ash know that there was something strange about this whole situation.
‘I should probably think this through more…’ he thought. He snuck off, shaking the leaves and moss from his mane. As much as he hated water, he bathed in a lake, scrubbing the dirt off. It had clumped together, drying his fur into messy spikes.
As Ash cleaned himself off, he thought over what he had heard. Based on what other lions had told him, he could assume that these lions were planning some sort of attack. It worried him, as his pride was in the close vicinity, and he didn’t want anything to happen to them. As careless and stupid as he acted, he usually didn’t do anything that could get himself killed. It was obvious that he was the best king that the lions in his pride could hope for, so who would replace him if he was killed?
By the time Ash had scrubbed his fur clean, he had devised a plan to take care of the lions. He often did this with other groups of animals to drive them out of his territory, especially if they seemed to be a threat to his pride (he had done a lot of eavesdropping and sneaking around during his lifetime). There was a group of especially vicious leopards who’s camp he had flooded with water tainted by sewage and litter. He had smelled like a human toilet for a month, but it had been totally worth it to see the leopards realize that they were standing in puddles of excrement and trash. The looks on their faces were priceless…
Ash chuckled at the memory, but got back on track quickly, realizing that he had no time to waste. He wanted to do this before the lions left, and didn’t want to have to bring his pride into it. Ash definitely preferred to work solo. Who else was clever enough to pull off his schemes?
Figuring he didn’t have much time, Ash scoured the area around his territory for human camps. He needed to gather the materials needed and since he had spent a lot of time watching humans (and, admittedly, playing pranks on them), he knew exactly where he could find what he was looking for.
Finally finding one, he grabbed one of the flashing boxes and hung it around his neck. The strap strained against his thick neck, and Ash felt a bit like a human tourist, but he needed his mouth to hold some other things. He always got one of these devices to immortalize his tricks forever. He had a large collections of the ‘photos’, as the humans liked to call them. Ash couldn’t wait to add this prank to his collection.
The flashing boxes were easy to find. There were many of them tossed onto the back of the vehicles that people used to travel (but it still confused Ash as to why they had to ride these hulking beasts as opposed to walking), but the other item he needed was hidden inside the flimsy human caves, made of thin, stretchy material.
Ash waited for night to fall before sneaking into one of the caves. He was exceptionally large, so fitting in was quite a difficult feat, but he knew it would all be worth it in the end.
He grabbed one of the large pouches from the cave and carried it outside. Ripping it open, he rummaged around inside before finding what he was looking for: the small box that contained tiny, smooth sticks inside. One of the ends was red, like Ash’s own pelt, and when struck against a rock, burst into flames (something that Ash had to find out the hard way. As he was leaving, Ash heard a commotion start up. The humans were rushing out of their tents, staring at him, fear evident in their eyes. They started yelling at him, but Ash sprinted away so fast that he couldn’t make out any of their words.
Thankfully, he brought the box with him, so his plan could finally be put in action.
Ash did himself up in the same disguise as he had done the previous night, although in a less extensive way. He was running on a large elephant carcass from two days ago and pure adrenaline, so he didn’t want to waste energy on the least important part of his scheme.
Carrying the flashing device and the box, Ash quietly located the group of lions. To his dismay, there were only six of yesterday’s seven lions, so he waited for the seventh one to appear. Once they were all gathered, Ash initiated the second phase of his plan. He cleared away the most flammable materials (which he knew about by personal experience). He left a ring of brush around the lion’s clearing, but since this forest was mainly tall trees, it wasn’t too difficult nor noticeable. Setting the flashing box on a low branch about twenty steps away, Ash dumped a stick from the box. He buried the rest, knowing that they would easily catch fire, then picked up the one he had removed. He struck it against a nearby rock and held it carefully between his teeth, making sure the flame was well away from his face. Hurrying over to the ring of brush, he smirked evilly. And dropped the stick into the extremely flammable grass.
The fire erupted suddenly and Ash bounded away, ignoring the cries of the lions. They might or might not die, but it didn’t make much of a difference to Ash. He pressed the button on top of his flashing box and it lit up, creating a momentarily blinding burst of light. It began whirring, churning out his photo, but he grabbed it and sprinted away.
Ash made it back to his territory, sweaty and panting, and looked at the photos that he had. They turned out good, capturing the terrified looks of the lions as the foliage surrounding them burst into flames. Ash smiled cruelly, then went and buried his photo with the others, tossing the flashing box along the way.
A few days later, he went back to the area that he lit on fire. It was still smoldering, tiny embers alight. There was almost no way that the lions had escaped.
Thinking back, Ash realized that the lions might not even have been that bad, but for the sake of his precious photos and a quick laugh, he would sacrifice the lives of potentially harmful creatures. It wasn’t his first time anyway, and what did a few dead lions really do to anyone?
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