"It's not safe, " the lioness said firmly. "The vultures are here and the hyenas are not far behind. Run, honey tree. Run home now!"

Misha was grief stricken, but she had to flee before the ghastly funeral took place. She couldn't hope to face off the scavengers at her age. And so she ran toward Pride Rock. She ran and ran like a mad thing and did not stop until she found her mother.

When Misha found her mother and told her what had happened, Ajenti moaned as if from a wound. She ran up the side of Pride Rock and out onto the peak and roared one heart-rending roar. The other lions didn't have to ask what happened, for Yolanda had been expected to die. They roared as well, setting off a wave of sound that washed over the Pride Lands the sorrowful message. It may have lasted a few seconds, or a few minutes--time seemed to stand still. But when Ajenti lithely slinked back off the pinnacle and disappeared into the grass, so did her public grief. From now on, she would discuss it only with friends and family, and only when asked about it. They all understood that she loved her mother--there was no need to keep proving it to everyone. Indeed, if anyone asked her if she was heartbroken, and no one would, they would likely catch an indignant rake of her claws.

For a couple of hours, all Misha could do was huddle next to her mother. Ajenti needed her small, warm presence. But there came a time when Ajenti needed to be alone for a while. It was her turn to remember when she was the cub, and Yolanda would tell her stories of the old kings, and groom her with her warm moist tongue. That was done best alone.

Misha wanted her mother, but she welcomed the chance to head out unescorted across the savanna to the baobab tree. Her heart was full of questions that must be answered--it was her first experience with death.

Rafiki had an odd habit of talking to himself. He put some small pieces of fruit into a bowl and took a bone in one hand while holding the bowl in the other. "Look out, little ones! Here comes the elephant! " He began to mash them into a paste. "Oh no! This is just awful! Shame on you, you ol' elephant! Heh heh! "

He got an egg. Rarely did he use meat in his diet, and then it was only carrion. The egg was the closest thing he had that day, a prize he had filched from a nest only that morning.

"Oooh, it must be done so carefully! " He said, positioning the egg on the edge of the bowl. "A-one, " he said, tapping it once lightly. "A-two! " he said tapping it a little harder. He turned the egg slightly. "A-three! " And at last with a smile, he said, "Here goes nothing! "

"Rafiki! "

The shell shattered in his fingers. Egg loaded with shell fragments dribbled from his hand into the bowl. "A-four, " he said with a sigh, and shook off his hands. "Who's there?"

"Are you busy?"

"Misha! " He smiled, wiping his hands off quickly. "Come in, my dear! Sit! " He planted a kiss on top of her head and giving her a hug. "You honor my humble home."

"Oh Rafiki, she's gone! Grandma Yolanda is gone! "

"I heard the cry, " Rafiki said. He understood a bit about how lions grieve, so he was careful in his approach. "You have questions for Rafiki?"

"Well, yes."

"Come sit beside me, " Rafiki said. He put his arm around her and said, "Now ask your Uncle Rafiki anything at all."

Misha's eyes brimmed with tears. "I didn't want her to die. Why did she have to die? She was so good. Can't you help her? Why do the gods let good people die if they can do anything they want? Why?"

"Oh, the little lady starts with the biggest questions." Rafiki sighed. "For one thing, no. I'm sorry, but it's beyond me to call her back. If I could have helped her, I would have helped Mufasa. As for why there is death, there is a legend among the mandrills about how death came into the world. My father told me, and he learned it from his father. I will not tell you, for it’s not the truth."

"What is the truth?"

"Death has always been a part of this world. It is part of life. Otherwise there would be no more room to move about. It makes room for new generations to grow and flourish. It renews the world. It makes sense."

"I see." She sighed longingly. "But why even live, if all you're going to do is die someday? What's the point?"

"Because if you didn't live, I couldn't put my arm around you and have these little talks." He kissed her again. "Your blood runs red with mud. It is the soil of the earth mother that binds us to the great Circle of Life. When we die, the water which is the life force returns to heaven with the morning dew. We are then freed from the mud, and freed from its pain. All except the pain of separation, and that will take care of itself with time. Remember even here the spirits of the blessed look down on us, and their prayers for us are always before the gods. Watch the night skies, and feel the love surround you. You will know your grandmother is alive."

"I saw her, " Misha admitted. "She told me to run away before the hyenas came."

"You saw her?" He said it like he believed her. She was glad to tell someone about it. "Grandma was shiny all over, lit up like the moon. Mother says the stars are the spirits of the great kings, but where did she go? Will she see my grandfather?"

"The stars cannot be counted. Could there be so many kings in a hundred creations?" He smiled. "She is a star like your grandfather, and if the life she led is any measure, she'll be the most beautiful star in the sky."

Misha lay her head on Rafiki's shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too." He gave her a pat. "Now how about a little snack?"

"What'cha got?"

"It's sweet, it's disgusting. You'll love it."

Rafiki got the wooden bowl back out and stirred the contents up really well. He put it before Misha, who attacked it with gusto.

"What is it?"

"I call it elephant stew."