A/N: I do not own The Lion King, and all recognizable characters and storylines are the sole property of their creators. I make no money from this. This fic is rated M for sexual content in future chapters. If you are offended by this or are underage please click the back button now.

All other characters and storylines belong to me. Please respect this. Enjoy!

Chapter One: The Savanna

My fingers, still entirely human and un-clawed at the time, mind you, raced across my laptop, trying to keep up with my professor's lecture. I'd never had a proper typing class, so I was a bit on the slow side. Years of instant messaging and forcing myself not to watch my hands as I typed had improved my skills a bit, though.

The class was a bit vague that afternoon. With it being bare inches from summer break, everyone was either itching to be out of class or nodding off in their chairs. At the time I was chemistry major at a local college, and as the class was a graduation requirement for every student, it was just large enough to remain unnoticed if one became distracted. The irony of it didn't hit me until much, much later, but the fact that we were studying Africa in a 101 Geography class was a major side splitter in the days to come, let me tell you.

So how did a lowly college freshman get stuck in fur and claws? Well, it's a lovely story, really. I do believe I'm the only person on earth who can honestly say they were tragically mowed down by a vicious golf cart. I personally blame the guy who was training the new Public Safety Officer in the use of the golf carts. Our college didn't have enough money to buy patrol cars, so that's what we got. My life thus ended and my funeral, and if you ever get the chance, watch yours, it's a riot, anyways, my funeral based around traffic safety and proper golf cart signaling, I found myself floating, as they say, "somewhere in between." Now, as a human, I was a nice, grounded girl without any crazy beliefs in voodoo or aliens, but even I'm willing to say something freaky was going on.

In the end, my transfer across from reality as humans know it, to the world of the Lion King was a bit anticlimactic, even if it was weird. One minute I'm watching the backhoe push dirt over my coffin, (great show, wish I'd had popcorn) the next I'm spinning, feeling stretched as my body elongated, feeling fur sprout all over, my organs shift, and my nails grow and sharpen before sliding back into my newly formed paws. You'd think this would be extremely painful, but pain is for thou inferior mortal beings. In other words, dead people don't feel pain.

Next thing I know, I'm tossed furry ears over tail down a grassy rise to the base of a rather familiar tree, without so much as a word of Divine Explanation. Briefly, I tossed around the idea of reincarnation, but discarded that as I was fully grown and had full memory of my past life. Then I thought this might be some weird coma dream, and that I'd imagined my own funeral. Then I remembered the accident in more detail and realized I'd heard my heart stop beating before I drew my last breath. I was dead, alright. And with no word from the higher powers as to Why I'm a Lioness.

I, of course, had the expected freak out and ranting rage, until I realized that although my brain still processed it as English; I was speaking a very fluent Lion. It was kind of like when you learn Spanish in high school, and your brain translates the Spanish you're hearing into English, formulates a reply in English, and translates that to Spanish, only a lot faster.

Weird, huh?

So I was freaking out more than a tiny bit when I recognized Rafiki's tree. I calmed ever so slightly, or maybe it was just more shock, I can't really remember now. In any case, I decided to see if he was home. If anybody knew what was going on around here, it was him. This, however, left me with a slight issue.

You know how with a one year old, even though they're physically strong enough to pick themselves up and walk, they haven't quite figured out how to coordinate it yet? Yeah. Try that times ten. It's not so much the getting to your feet, or even the balancing once you're there, although that's weird since we're not used to having front and rear limbs of roughly equal length. It's not stepping forwards. No, the trouble sets in about the fourth step when you realize that you have to coordinate our limbs instead of two, and that lions don't do the two legs at a time deal. Nope, you have to work four limbs at separate times and still end up at roughly the same area as the other three paws. And as adults, we take for granted how tough it was to learn to walk when it was our sole goal in life. Now my mind was spinning in about twenty directions, and I was trying to overcome nearly nineteen years of muscle memory of my human body, which tended to make me forget I had back legs when I lost focus. Which made me end up sprawled on my stomach. A lot.

But after a few laps around Rafiki's tree, I had the hang of it, mostly. So now for climbing the tree. Or I could just yell for the monkey. That idea having the most appeal, I did it. Or rather, I tried and came out with this weird, half snarling, half meow. I guess the whole roaring thing takes practice. I tried again. I got a little more for my effort this time, the result being mostly snarl that trailed off into a squeak like a pubescent boy's voice cracking. Still not satisfied, I was about to make a third effort when the monkey showed up, leaning out of the tree, carefully peering down at me.

I sat up, wrapped my tail around myself neatly, and spoke, "Hi."

"Whatchu wantin with ole Rafiki?" he shook his fur out. He looked like he'd just woken up from a nap.

Trying to be as respectful as possible, I said, "I seem to have found myself in a bit of trouble, and I wondered if you might be willing to help me?"

He sighed, looking sleepy and resigned, "Alright, come on up then," he turned to head back inside.

I hurriedly stopped him, "Well, you see, that's part of the problem. I don't, err, know how."

Rafiki turned back, frowning slightly, "You's a lion, girl, use your claws."

"Erm, well, actually, I've only been a lion for, oh, about five minutes?" I admitted rather sheepishly, knowing I sounded silly.

After looking at me for a long, slow minute, he nodded, "Well, I's not a lion, so I can't tell you. You gonna have to figure it out yourself."

I sighed dejectedly, reaching up to sink my claws into the bark of the tree and pulled. Ten long minutes and several scrapes down the tree later, I scrabbled into Rafiki's home. Now, despite how roomy it looks in the movies, it is most definitely not meant to house a monkey and a lion at the same time. However, if I stayed still in the deepest part of the hollow, Rafiki could move about as needed.

Rafiki was in the middle of his whole crack-the-coconut-see-the-future thing when he looked up at me suddenly, "What is your name, child?"

I looked back, "Ashley."