The almost identical to his father tom trotted around, looking for just that- his father Scythe. He hadn't seen him in awhile, and honestly missed him. Simba had followed his dad without thinking, it was a natural reaction and he did it with no hesitancy. After all, whatever Scythe did would be best.
Scythe caught sight of one of his sons, Simba, who seemed to be looking for something or other. Having - for once, and miraculously - nothing pressing urgently, he padded forward to intercept the kit.
"Simba," he meowed.
Simba turned his head sharply when he heard a familiar voice. Dipping his head, Simba wondered how to approach his father. It still seemed a bit weird, after all they didn't exactly have the best relationship.. but the nearly seven moon old cat wanted to change that- desperately. A excited reply bubbled up inside of his chest, but instead it didn't come out, for fear Scythe would think him childish, which he so was not. "Scythe." That was good.. right?
"It's good to see you," Scythe meowed, looking down at his son who was practically his mirror image. Except much younger and smaller, of course, and without all the tatters.
The somali laughed, and nodded. "Very good to see you, as well." It seemed odd, like all he was doing was repeating what was being said, so he felt obligated to say something else. "How have you been? Not to much stress?"
"Oh, no," Scythe answered, his tone full of irony. "What with invading the Tribe, and the conflict with Hydra, and finding a new territory and everything... no stress at all."
Simba mentally cursed himself. Right. "Oh." He didn't exactly know what to say, so he settled for shuffling his paws, his yellow eyes dropping to the floor.
"No problem," Scythe meowed. "What about yourself? You're not all that far from being a Future, are you?"
"Nope!" The tom said excitedly, his yellow eyes shining bright at the idea. "I'll be the best future skulls ever seen!"
"Of course you will," Scythe purred in reply. "You are my son, after all."