Lyrics

The next morning, Simba woke up, not completely bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He and Mufasa had stayed out later than they usually did, coming back for a late meal and a quick bath before going to bed. So when Simba woke up, he was still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Breakfast was served, a fresh meal of Cape buffalo. Those huge beasts were a challenge to take down; even the most skilled hunters in the pride could easily get gored or trampled by a buffalo. As he ate, he caught snippets of the lionesses talking to each other. "That was quite the adventure Simba and Nala had yesterday," Nala's mother Sarafina remarked. "Imagine, straying so far into hyena territory!" Simba felt the skin under his fur grow hot. Mufasa must have told Sarabi about their son's adventure, and she spread it out to the rest of the pride. He really wished that less animals were that nosy. One of the younger lionesses, who had gotten her ear nicked from the buffalo's horns earlier, scoffed. "If you ask me, Simba wasn't punished enough," she snapped. "He even put your daughter in danger, for kings' sake. What kind of father is Mufasa, to refuse to discipline a child?" "Certainly not the way you'd do it, Zira," Sarafina retorted, her voice now stern. "From what I've heard, Simba was indeed sorry for what he did, and he and Nala are safe and sound. That's all that matters." "What matters more is that he's been a troublemaker," replied Zira, giving Simba a nasty sideways look. "For once, I wouldn't blame Mufasa for still being angry with him." The good feeling Simba felt from the night before faded, replaced by worry. What if Zira was right? Was Mufasa still mad at him for all that? He had already apologized to him and Nala, but what if it wasn't good enough? Now his appetite was gone, so he slunk away without letting Sarafina or Zira noticing him. Once he climbed down to the bottom of Pride Rock, Simba went to find Mufasa to spend more time with him, and perhaps apologize some more. Unfortunately, he heard from Zazu that Mufasa had already set off before breakfast, to settle a dispute between two banded mongoose families, as well as patrol his kingdom's borders. So he decided to rest on the rocks below, to avoid the judgmental stares from the other lionesses. As he prepared to lay down, he heard a familiar voice drawl, "Tough luck this morning, eh?" Simba glanced up to see Scar gazing down at him, green eyes unreadable. As for Scar himself, he had come to Simba not to comfort him but to spring his plan into action. "Dad was upset with me last night," replied Simba. Still is, he thought with a shudder, remembering what Zira had said. He was glad that he and Mufasa spent a little father-son moment together, but the good feeling was gone. He really hoped that he could find the perfect way to make up for what he did. "I think I have the perfect idea on how to make up for it," replied Scar with a smile. "Whatever he's mad at you about, it's a gift that will make him forget it ever happened." Simba tilted his head and leaped down from the rock. "But he's the king. What can I give him?" "Your roar," said Scar, not hesitating with his answer. "Why don't you come with me? I'll show you what I mean." It did sound exciting for Simba. "But I gotta ask permission from Mom first," he reminded his uncle. "I can't go out on my own." Scar rolled his eyes, but he covered it up with a nod. "Very well then. Do hurry up, though. The day's not getting any younger, you know." He waited by his den while Simba ran off to ask his mother if he could leave. A moment or two passed before he came racing back. She had given him permission after all, and uncle and nephew headed off towards the savannah of the Pride Lands. The two walked side-by-side, taking in the nature around them. Simba was eager to talk to other animals, to tell them about how he would spend the day with his uncle. He even wanted to see if Beshte, the young hippo, would play. Scar, meanwhile, did not want to stop to take it all in. The longer Simba got distracted by the things around him, the less time he would have for his plan. Soon, they arrived at a gorge, its steep walls reaching up to the blue sky. There wasn't much shade anywhere, but at least the lizards and snakes would find cracks in the gorge walls to rest in. Scar walked up to a rock with a tree overhanging ahead. "Now you wait here, on this rock," he instructed Simba. "If you give your father enough of a good gift, he may have a marvelous surprise for you." Simba got excited right away. Like lots of other cubs, he liked surprises. "What is it?" he asked, scrambling up the rock. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?" "But if you tell me, I'll still act surprised." Scar chuckled. "Oh-ho, you are such a naughty boy!" "Come on, Uncle Scar," Simba pleaded. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no," Scar said repeatedly. "This is just for you and your daddy. You know, a sort of...father-son...thing." A few awkward seconds passed before he spoke again. "Well! I'd better go get him." He started to leave, and Simba tried going after him. "I'll go with you - " "No!" Scar snapped, but he quickly regained his composure by chuckling. "Hehe...no. Just stay on this rock. You wouldn't want to end up in another mess like you did with the hyenas." Simba's ears drooped. He had hoped that the news wouldn't spread, but news in the Pride Lands spread as quickly as wildfire. "You know about that?" "Simba, Simba," Scar cooed, "everybody knows about that." "Really?" "Oh, yes. Lucky Daddy was there to save you, eh?" Scar replied with a smile. "Oh, and just between us, you might want to work on that little roar of yours." Ears perked, Simba sat straight up. "My roar?" "Yes, I've heard about your attempt to roar. I have said that I found a way for you to do it better, and perhaps this gorge can help." Scar looked around the walls, looking wistful. "This gorge is where all lions come to find their roar." Simba looked around the gorge in awe. "All lions...even my dad?" "Oh yes, even Mufasa," replied Scar. "He and I came here when we were your age, and our father was testing his roar. Your father refused to leave until his roar could be heard above the rim." "All the way up there?" Simba asked, following his uncle's gaze. Scar nodded. "Yes. That's when you know you've found it. With a little practice, you'll never be called a cub again. When I was your age, I was teased for not roaring loud, even though I led the Lion Guard as the Fiercest. But lo and behold, I eventually got my roar to reach the rim." Simba had heard of the Lion Guard, a band of five lions that helped the royal family defend the Pride Lands. They were brave, fierce, strong, fast, and keenest of sight. Even if Simba was not to be in the Guard since he had no siblings, he wanted to be all five of those, just like his father. The leader was even blessed with a power called the Roar of the Elders, and he recalled hearing stories of how Scar was the leader of his own Lion Guard. And to demonstrate, Scar lifted his head and let out a roar. It wasn't as impressive as Mufasa's roar, but it did reach the rim of the gorge, just as he and Mufasa had done as cubs. Then there was when Scar mentioned 'never be called a cub again'. Simba realized that this was the perfect gift for Mufasa. If he let his father know that he learned his lesson and found his roar, he would be proud of him. "I can do it," Simba boasted confidentially. "Watch this!" He opened his mouth to roar, but all that came out was a mew. It barely even echoed on the canyon walls. Simba flattened his ears in disappointment. "You'll get there, Simba. It just takes time and practice," said Scar, patting Simba on the shoulder. He stepped away from the rock and started padding away. "I'll come check on you later and get your surprise ready." Simba nodded. "Dad will be so proud of me, huh?" With a smirk, Scar replied, "Oh yes, he will be. It's a gift he'll never forget." He had just walked several feet away when Simba had another question. "Hey, Uncle Scar! Will I like the surprise?" "Simba, it's to die for," was all Scar said before leaving. As he watched Scar, Simba sat back down on the rock, eager to wait for the surprise from Mufasa. He made sure to sit under the shade of tree; as the dry season was slowly going to arrive, it was more important than ever to find the best shade. Not far away, the five hyenas watched the wildebeests from a rock. The massive herd was just going to their grazing grounds above the gorge, stopping to graze and take care of their babies. Scar had told them where the wildebeest migrated, and they could even snag themselves a dead wildebeest for their hard work. All of a sudden, Banzai's stomach growled. Shenzi turned to him, snapping, "Shut up, will ya?" "I can't help it. I'm starving!" Banzai growled. "I gotta have a wildebeest!" "No. Stay put," retorted Shenzi. "Now shut up and wait." "Can't I pick off the little sick ones?" Banzai pleaded. But Shenzi was not going to have any of it. She rounded on Banzai, giving him an icy glare. "No. We'll wait for the signal from Scar." "I'm with Banzai on this one, Shenzi," Azizi whimpered. "Can we eat the baby wildebeest? I'm hungry." Kamari sighed. "You're just going to have to wait. I'm hungry too, but we have a job to do first." Shenzi didn't answer. She had suddenly looked upwards to a ledge just above the wildebeest, her eyes narrowed. On that ledge, Scar had made his appearance. When he spotted the hyenas, he gave a nod before leaving. "There he is," Shenzi announced to the hyenas. "Let's go." So she and her fellow hyenas slunk through the grass towards the wildebeest herd. They split off into different directions, to corral the herd together once the plan went off. As a wildebeest and her calf came grazing together, Kamari sprang at them with a snarl, teeth bared. The mother and her calf cried out, and the herd looked up while the hyenas flanked them from behind and to the sides. With a bellow of fear, they began to run, right for the gorge. The hyenas chased them and snapped at their heels, Shenzi nearly giving one a broken leg in the process with her powerful jaws. They watched the wildebeests stampede into the gorge from a higher ledge. If they were successful, Scar would get his throne, and the hyena clan would get their free meals. Back in the canyon, Simba was already getting bored. He tried batting around rocks, but it was no fun with just one player. He sharpened his claws on the tree to keep himself focused on his father's surprise. He even tried catching his own tail, though he failed to see the appeal. Little roar, he scoffed to himself. He would make up with his dad and show his uncle that he could roar. He was about to fall asleep when a chameleon came walking out, eyes darting left and right on their own as its skin slowly changed to brown. It flicked out its tongue and caught a dragonfly, bringing it to its mouth and chomping on it. Simba smiled and crouched; perhaps this chameleon would be the perfect practice target for his roar. He gave a growl as the chameleon walked by. The lizard merely looked at him and walked on. Simba tried a second time, this time a little more drawn out. As with last time, it just kept walking. Finally, Simba went up right behind it and let out a loud yowl, scaring the chameleon into running. As he did, his growl echoed off the gorge walls like he was in a cave. The chameleon suddenly turned back to green and darted to a crack in the wall, leaving Simba briefly confused. But the chameleon didn't matter right now. I did it! Simba thought with glee. My roar reached the rim! Wait till Dad hears that! Suddenly, the earth started to rumble beneath his paws. Simba was confused; had his roar meant to do that? Were roars supposed to make the earth shake? Then he looked to the sky at the rim of the gorge; it seemed to be getting darker. Perhaps it was a storm coming earlier? But then he saw the figures of horned and hoofed animals starting to run down the ledges leading into the gorge. It was no thunderstorm. It was a wildebeest herd, a massive one, stampeding into the gorge. Simba stood there for a moment, frightened and unable to figure out what to do. Then as the wildebeests got closer, Simba did the only thing he could do. He ran. It had been a very busy morning for Mufasa. During his patrol, he had to sort out a feud between two banded mongoose families and got sidelined by howling wolves, a roaring tiger, and an angry juvenile male gorilla. Other than that, the morning was nice, and Mufasa allowed himself to take a break. The sun warmed his golden fur and reddish mane, but it wouldn't take long until the sun would get even more unbearable. He definitely remembered the elephant graveyard mishap just yesterday. While Mufasa had been disappointed in Simba for going there, he couldn't stay mad at his son; as many others had said about him, he was slow to anger and very quick to love. He had hoped that Simba liked looking up at the stars of his ancestors, just as his own father - King Ahadi - had done as well. As he was climbing the slope, Zazu flew down to rest on his shoulder. "Look, Sire!" he announced. "The herds are on the move." The king followed Zazu's gaze out towards the gorge. Just not too long ago, the wildebeest herds had moved to their summer grounds. It was too soon for them to turn back like this. "That's odd," he murmured to himself. "Mufasa!" Scar was scrambling up the rock, looking frightened. He had burst out from the bushes below the rock to catch up with his brother. "Come quick! Stampede! In the gorge! Simba's down there!" "Simba?" Mufasa asked, frightened. Whatever else he had planned, it paled compared to what he just learned. "He's in danger? What was Simba doing down there, Scar?!" "I was taking a walk with him, and helping him find a way to make up with you," Scar panted, sounding frantic. "When I got to the top of the gorge, the stampede had begun. I couldn't go down there in time, so I had to find you." Mufasa shook his head. "We can't stand here talking. My son's in danger! Come!" "I'll help find him in the stampede, Sire!" piped up Zazu, taking off. So Mufasa took off running towards the gorge as fast as he could go, Scar on his heels. Above their heads, Zazu flew ahead of them, flapping his wings as fast as he could. Simba ran faster than he had ever run before, even more so than when the hyenas were chasing him and Nala. That was nothing compared to over a million wildebeests thundering into the gorge and stampeding towards him. If he ever got out of this alive, he would never leave Pride Rock again. As he ran, he noticed a small dead tree up ahead. It wouldn't protect him much from the stampede, having been dead for a long time, but he would be out of their way for the moment. Once he reached it, he took a flying leap and sank his claws into the bark, scrambling up the best he could. Simba climbed to the top and clung on for dear life, watching the stampede race below. Then he spotted Zazu. The hornbill was flying far above the stampede, looking left and right. When he found Simba on the dead tree, he flew down to the prince. "Zazu, help me!" Simba cried out in fright, yelping as a wildebeest crashed into the tree. "Your father's on his way, Simba!" Zazu called in reply. "Hold on, and don't let go! Help is coming!" "Hurry!" screamed Simba. Zazu was here to help; if he told him to hold on, he would definitely hold on. Zazu felt his heartbreaking, watching the young cub trying to hold on. It was true that Simba had given him a lot of trouble, but he wanted nothing more now than to fly down and rescue the prince. But he lacked the strength and agility to do so. As he flew on, he noticed Mufasa and Scar coming to a stop at a ledge, looking left to right frantically for Simba. Zazu flew over to Mufasa, shouting, "There! He's over there! On that tree!" Mufasa followed his gaze, frightened. Then he spotted Simba dangling and trying to cling to the bark. "HOLD ON, SIMBA!" he bellowed. As another wildebeest hit the dead tree, Mufasa jumped down the ledges until he was at the edge of the stampede. He took a deep breath and leaped into the fray. The last of him Scar and Zazu could see was him racing along the outer band before plunging through the herd. "I'm coming Simba! Hold on!" shouted Mufasa running down the gorge. "I'll help them, Zazu! You get the pride! Go!" said Scar. As it did, Zazu flew off to get the entire lioness pride. Meanwhile, Mufasa ran a bit before turning and running the opposite way. He ran as fast as he could, so fast that he even crashed into an oncoming wildebeest. The animal stumbled before getting back up and joining its herd. Then, as he rounded a bend, he noticed the dead tree that Zazu had told him about. Simba was clinging to a high branch, looking even more scared than when he was in the elephant graveyard. With a grunt, Mufasa shouldered his way through the wildebeests until he arrived at the foot of the tree, rearing up to get to his son. "Dad!" Simba exclaimed, relief washing over his face. "Simba!" Mufasa called, clinging to the tree with his claws. "Come to me, son! Jump!" But before Simba could reply, Mufasa heard a nasty crack ripple through the bark. The wildebeest had charged into the dead tree so hard that it snapped. Simba was flung through the air, screaming, and the fear of losing his son swiftly carried Mufasa into action. He jumped up and caught Simba in time before he could be trampled underneath the thundering hooves. With his son in his jaws, the king tried to maneuver his way out of the stampede, leaping this way and that. Scar was watching them from above. The plan was working well so far. The hyenas had succeeded in doing this task, and he would make sure they were rewarded. But for now, he had to keep his eye on his brother and son. Back in the stampede, Mufasa crashed into another stampeding wildebeest, dropping Simba. Once again, Simba was left alone in the middle of the stampede. The wildebeests didn't seem to notice or care that a lion cub was lost and scared and trying to get out. To his relief, Mufasa came running over and picked him up, making a break for it when a brief opening appeared. He leaped up the ledge above the stampede and gently dropped Simba off there, nuzzling him. Simba almost smiled; they were both going to be okay. That is, until another wildebeest came charging. It crashed headfirst into Mufasa's flank, and Mufasa was thrown back by the charge and flung back into the stampede. "DAD!" Simba shouted. But his mew was barely heard above the roar of the stampede. He tried looking for his father beneath the hooves, but he didn't find anything except more hooves. A pang of fear made him flatten his ears; was Mufasa being trampled right now? And then, moments later, Mufasa emerged. He leaped out of the stampede with a roar, clinging to the rocky wall with all of his claws. While he started climbing, Simba looked around to find a place to meet him at. He waited until Mufasa was out of sight before climbing up his own way. He would meet Mufasa at whatever side he would appear. Back with Mufasa, the great lion king struggled to get his grip on the rocky wall. He kept his claws out as he climbed, lest he would slip and slowly fall back into the stampede. It didn't matter that he was exhausted and battered; what mattered the most was that his son needed to be safe. He had just reached the edge of the cliff when he spotted someone watching him from that ledge. It was Scar, green eyes unreadable and whiskers twitching. "Scar!" Mufasa called, scrabbling on the cliff face. "Brother...help me...!" For a moment, Scar said nothing. He looked down at Mufasa as if he was a stranger, not his own flesh and blood. Panting, Mufasa tried his best to haul himself up to his brother's side. Please, Scar, he begged silently. I need your help. Then Scar moved...and sank his claws into Mufasa's paws. Mufasa roared in surprise and pain, and Scar took the chance to lean in, seizing the chance to use a claw to drag it across Mufasa's left eye. Taking in the shock and horror in his brother's eyes (the new scar on Mufasa's face slightly seeping blood), he leaned down and whispered four words into his ear: "Long live the king." And with that, he let go and flung Mufasa off the cliff. He felt cold satisfaction run through his veins as he watched his brother scream and fall to his death, and he welcomed it. In the meantime, Simba was climbing up the rocks, to try and find his father. Fear pushed him onward, and fueled his heart like blood pumping into a cheetah's veins. He didn't care anymore if he didn't get a surprise; all that mattered was that he and Mufasa would get out of this mess together, alive and well. The last time he saw Mufasa, he was climbing up higher and higher, toward a ledge. Simba felt his heart beat with relief. They were going to get out after all. It was going to be all okay. He climbed up higher until he came to a safer ledge, where he could get to see the gorge below. Just a little bit more, and... But when he looked outward, his optimism turned into sheer horror. Mufasa - the lion who was believed to be powerful, his father - was now falling to his death, screaming and roaring. "NOOOOOOO!" Simba screamed, but it was too late. Mufasa ended up disappearing under thousands of pounding hooves, his roars cut off by the thunder of the stampede. Down below, the stampede was now starting to fade away. The last of the wildebeests were picking up the pace, sending up clouds of dust in the air. Once the last of the wildebeests were gone, Simba climbed down into the gorge to look for his father. While the herd was no longer in the gorge, the dust still hung in the air. Hoofprints littered the ground like someone had dropped rocks onto the earth from on high. Simba darted around, trying to find the spot where his father had fallen. He mistook rocks, mounds of dirt, and even a few dead wildebeests for his father. "DAD!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the walls. As he had yelled, he accidentally gulped in some dust and coughed. Suddenly, footsteps started sounding out, making Simba's head turn. "Dad?" he asked hopefully. But all that appeared was a lone wildebeest, galloping down the path that the many wildebeest took. It made a sharp turn to run around a large mound on the ground and disappeared. Simba gasped when he realized that this mound had fur, running over...and stopped when he realized who that animal was. Mufasa was there, all right. He was laying on his side, unmoving and not breathing. His eyes were closed, his whiskers were bent out of shape, and his fur and mane were ragged and patchy. Drying blood coated his golden fur, some from cuts on his sides and paws, and others from bruises that had been scratched open. "Dad?" Simba mewled. He walked over and rubbed his head against Mufasa's mane, but he didn't stir. "Dad, come on, you gotta get up. Dad..." His voice cracked as he reared up to shake him awake. "...we gotta go home." He tugged on his father's ear, just as he had done to wake him up before. This time, however, Mufasa wasn't getting up. Tears welled up in Simba's eyes. He wanted this to be a nightmare to wake up from, but this was real. His father was still lying motionless in the gorge. It can't be... With a sob, Simba screamed to the sky, "HEEELLLLP! Somebody! Anybody..." But no one answered. Only the blowing breeze filled his ears. "Help..." Simba choked, the word caught in his throat. He was alone, utterly alone. Sobbing, Simba padded back to Mufasa and tried burrowing through his thick reddish mane. He crawled up to his father's face, the whiskers brushing against his face. Then he lay beside Mufasa's head and hid his face in his mane, crying softly. "Simba," a familiar voice sounded from behind them. Through his tears, Simba looked up at his uncle Scar, who was gazing down at him. He had a cold look in his green eyes as he watched the cub mourn for his father. "What have you done?" "There was a stampede. H-He tried to save me," Simba choked out, the words threatening to lodge in his throat. "It was an accident! I-I didn't mean it to happen!" "Of course, you didn't," said Scar with sympathy, pulling Simba close to him. It felt like he had sensed the troubles Simba was now going through. "No one ever means for these things to happen. But the king is dead." Simba felt more tears fall down his cheeks as he leaned against Scar's foreleg. It really was true. Mufasa was really dead. He would never see his father again. Then what Scar said next chilled his blood: "And if it weren't for you, he would still be alive. Your father had such high hopes for you, gave you so many chances. And this is how you repay him. How could you even think of doing such a dreadful thing?" Simba pulled away from his uncle, his heart threatening to shut down. He didn't want to believe it, but he felt that Scar was right. The stampede and Mufasa's death were his faults after all. He couldn't help but cry again. "What will your mother think?" Scar rasped, stepping away from Simba as if he was a parasite. "She will be so disappointed, to learn that her son caused his father's death, a boy who had killed his king. What if she decided to hate you for what you have done?" Again, Scar's words frightened and saddened Simba. His mother could indeed hate him for what he had done, wanting nothing more to do with him. "What am I going to do?" he whimpered. "Run, Simba," Scar replied, staring him down. "Run away, and never return!" Simba was shocked at his uncle's suggestion. But after looking at his father's lifeless body, he knew that once again, Scar was right. The lionesses would be angry with him for killing their king. He had to leave the Pride Lands, now and forevermore, especially when he was responsible for Mufasa's death. I'm sorry, Dad, he thought with a sob before turning away. I'm so very sorry. And with that, he began to run away. Not far away, Scar watched the cub leave, a small smile crossing his muzzle. This was far easier than he had thought. When he had first come up with this idea to kill Mufasa, he had hoped for Simba to die as well. After all, both needed to die to ensure that he was next in line for the throne. But guilt-tripping Simba and sending him into self-exile? That was a plan that went off without a hitch. But then again, Scar guessed, having Simba alive would lead to complications. He could return one day to take the throne from him, being a secret trump card for those loyal to Mufasa, and he didn't want that. No, there was no need to risk Simba coming back and dethroning him. He needed to be gone. Scar needed to take the throne, to make sure that he would become unchallenged. Growls behind him signaled the arrival of the hyenas. Shenzi walked up to beside Scar and nodded, pleased that he was keeping his end of the deal. In return, Scar looked to where Simba had fled and ordered two words: "Kill him." Simba ran as fast as he could. He couldn't get the image of his father's lifeless and mangled body out of his head. No matter how fast he ran, he could not get rid of images of Mufasa's death, Scar's accusations, and Sarabi's possible heartbreak. At the thought of his mother, he stopped and looked around at the walls surrounding him. What am I doing? I can't leave yet, he thought. I gotta go back and apologize for what I've done. Maybe Mom will understand. I gotta be there for her. But as he was turning around, he wished he hadn't. The five hyenas he and Nala met in the elephant graveyard were slowly approaching him. They were blocking his only way out, licking their chops, eyes glowing yellow in the shadow of the walls. Simba spun around and started climbing up the mound of rocks, up towards a crack. He felt the hot smelly breath of the hyenas behind him; which hyenas it was, but he didn't care to look back and find out. With a grunt, he squeezed through a crack and made it to the other side, away from the gorge and at the edge of the Pride Lands. But his triumph was short-lived. At the edge of the Pride Lands, it opened up at a cliff, which was a long fall to the bottom. If that wasn't enough to kill anyone foolish enough to fall, the thorns at the bottom could. Before Simba could find another way around, however, the hyenas were already running toward him. Shenzi was at the lead, her fangs bared and her tongue lolling out. Throwing all caution to the wind, Simba leaped forward, towards the thorn patches at the bottom of the cliff. He tumbled and bumped against the rock, getting bruises all over his body. Behind him, the hyenas found an easier path, bounding and cackling. Simba eventually fell into the thickets, scratched and bloodied from the thorns around him, but it gave him brief protection as he tried navigating his way through to the other side. All of a sudden, Banzai yelped "Whoa!" the closer they got to the edge of the thickets. He stopped in time, but the extra force of four other hyenas slamming into him sent him sailing into the thorns. Just a few seconds passed, and Banzai shot out of the thicket, yelling as he was prickled by the thorns. While Shenzi and Ed laughed at Banzai, who climbed out all prickly but alive, Kamari walked over to the edge, trying to sniff out Simba. Azizi joined him, nosily siding up beside him and looking down as well. "Seriously?" Kamari snapped, irritated at Azizi's nosiness. "Are you for real?" "Sorry. I'm gonna go right here," muttered Azizi. And he walked to the side, away from Kamari and near Ed. Kamari nodded. "That's a good distance right there," he growled. "Keep each other company." "Hey, there he goes! There he goes!" Shenzi suddenly barked. The hyenas looked to where she was glaring. Simba had pulled himself out of the thickets and was making a run for the desert, in the direction of the setting sun. Banzai was too busy plucking thorns off of his body. "So go get him!" "There ain't no way I'm goin' in there!" Shenzi scoffed. "What, you want me comin' out lookin' like you, Cactus Butt?" With a frown, Banzai spat the thorns in his mouth at Ed. It hit Ed on the nose, making him yelp, and he worked on getting those thorns out. "We gotta finish the job," Banzai exclaimed. "No cub would've survived a fall like that or the thorns. We should tell Scar that we went down there and ate him," Kamari advised. Azizi licked his chops. "That's good. Because I'm starving." Kamari turned on him, growling. "We're not gonna eat him! He's already running off!" "Well, Simba's as good as dead out there anyway," replied Shenzi, staring out to where Simba was leaving. "Like you just said, Kamari, we can just tell Scar that we ate him. That's all he needs to know. And if he comes back, we'll kill him." No one spoke for a few moments. Finally, Azizi shrugged and said, "Works for me." "Yeah!" shouted Banzai with a grin. He looked back to where the cub was fleeing. "Hey, you hear that?! If you ever come back, we'll kill ya!" As Simba ran, he heard the hyena's threats and laughter echo in his ears. He should have been dead from that fall he had taken, from the cliff and into the thorn thickets, bruised and scratched. Yet he was still alive. For some strange kings knew what reason, he was alive. Right now, he wanted to put as much distance between himself and the hyenas as much as possible. It was foolish to think he could go back. He could never return. He was exiled from the Pride Lands. The sun was slowly going down for the day, giving way to the night. The sky had slowly turned from a baby blue to a deep red, the color of spilled blood, and the air was getting slightly cooler. It was a beautiful end to a day that was going to get better...at least for Scar. A satisfied Scar made his way back to Pride Rock, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face. Shenzi had told him that they had caught Simba and killed him, eating his corpse before tossing the remains away. This pleased Scar. That loose end with Simba had officially been tied. Now no one would stop him from taking over Pride Rock or finding out about his plan. So he returned to Pride Rock to break the news to the lionesses and cubs. It was night when he returned when Sarabi had returned from the hunt with her fellow lionesses. Together, they had taken down a young giraffe, a juvenile, and were ready to eat when Scar sauntered up to them. "Scar?" Sarabi asked warily, looking up from the fresh kill. "What's going on?" "Is everyone gathered here?" asked Scar. He had put on an air of grief, to prepare to deliver the bad news. "Even the cubs will need to hear this. I have very terrible news for you all. It involves Mufasa and Simba." At this, Sarabi's amber eyes widened with shock and creeping fear. She left the fresh kill to fetch everyone in the pride, from the oldest lioness to the youngest cub. They gathered at the foot of Pride Rock, where Scar sat down before them on a smaller rock. This was how he wanted to imagine himself on his first night as king: looking down on everyone else. "It is a terrible day for the Pride Lands," Scar announced. "The migrating wildebeest herd stampeded in the gorge today, with young Simba caught in the middle. Our king Mufasa - noble and wise and beloved as he was - died saving Simba from the stampede. Alas, it was all for nothing. Simba had fallen to the stampede as well, his life cut short." The effect was immediate. Sarabi seemed to understand what was going on...and then let out a cry of despair and roared to the sky, tears streaming down her face. Most of the other lionesses walked over to give condolences to their queen, some crying with her and others praying. Zazu (who had returned shortly after Scar did) gently rested a wing on Sarabi's paw, showing her his sympathies. Even the cubs realized what was going on, little Nala's eyes full of tears when she heard of the death of her friend. Oh, I am good, Scar thought with a smirk. It was all too satisfying to witness. Mufasa may have been the stronger out of the siblings, but Scar definitely got the acting part down pat. As it did, Tamino chanted a mourning song, as the lionesses mourned Mufasa. Sarabi was heartbroken, and, unable to bear that her husband and son were no more(well, at least her son was alive- but she wasn't informed so), she fainted into the lionesses' forelegs. Zazu wept profusely. Nala and the other cubs silently, and with much weeping, remembered their friend, who just couldn't wait to be king. "Mufasa's death is a terrible tragedy," Scar began his eulogy, turning back to the pride. "He was the greatest king that the pride has ever known. To lose a brother is such a deep and personal loss. And to lose Simba..." He allowed himself to trail off as if he was overcome with emotion, gulping as if he was choking back tears. "To lose Simba, who had barely begun to live...a cub whose blood held our future...it's almost too much to endure. I only wish I had gotten to the gorge in time to save them." He turned his back on the pride so that they didn't see his smirk. So far, so good, he believed. Then Scar turned back to the pride, just as the moon was starting to rise. "So it is with a heavy heart that I assume the throne. Mufasa and Simba are gone, which means that I am now your king." The lionesses murmured among themselves. Only Zira, a younger lioness, watched him with interest. Scar had gotten to know her when she was an outsider, taken in by Ahadi when her mother was killed. During the time she stayed with Ahadi's pride, she had come to know Scar and sympathize with his goals while opposing Ahadi and Mufasa alongside him. At least he could count on her as an ally. "But I must admit that I cannot bear this burden alone. After all, what is a king without a queen?" Scar pressed on, staring down at Sarabi. He hoped that she would agree right there and then. To his annoyance, she snarled up at him, her eyes still full of tears. Scar only scoffed at this. She would say yes. One way or another, Scar would not stop until he had what he wanted. "One more thing I need to address: your new army, which will keep you safe," he went on. He turned to the shadows on his left and called, "Come on out. I hereby invite you all to help yourselves to our bounty." Sinister cackles echoed from beyond Pride Rock. One by one, Shenzi and her hyenas - a whole army of up to fifty - sauntered towards Scar, slinking past the lionesses. The lionesses were shocked and horrified before they shielded their cubs from the hyenas' view, snarling. What was Scar doing, inviting them onto their territory for free? "And so, from the ashes of this tragedy, we shall rise up to greet the dawning of a new era," Scar concluded as the hyenas marched over to stand beside Scar. "An era in which lion, hyena, jackal, marabou, and vulture will live together, where all prejudice is set aside, and where all animals of Pride Rock are equal. Welcome, my pride, to a great and glorious future!" In the meantime, Sarabi watched the hyenas arrive at Pride Rock as if they owned the place, invading them. Their brown fur was dull and matted, they bared sharp drooling fangs, and their eyes were alive and full of malice. It was all so wrong. The worst part of it, however, was that her mate and son were dead. Her heart ached at the very thought until it nearly broke. Never again would she feel warm and secure against Mufasa's mane, nor gently groom Simba while he pretended to be king. She looked to the place where she and Mufasa slept with Simba, as a family, and wanted to feel like this was all a horrible nightmare. But it was too real. On one terrible day, they were taken from her forever. Scar was right about Simba being dead much before his prime; he would have been a good king. Speaking of Scar, as she headed to the cave to grieve, she lifted her gaze to see the new king talking with Shenzi, the leader of the hyenas. He had acted as though he was upset that Mufasa and Simba were dead, but she doubted that he actually missed them. There was no love lost between the brothers. She had known Scar ever since they were younger, and she wished that she could ask him or Mufasa what had happened. But when she did, Scar would scoff, and Mufasa would look uncomfortable before changing the subject. As for the lionesses, they followed her with fear and sadness in their eyes. Their cubs looked scared beyond belief at the thought of the hyenas approaching them. Sarabi wanted to run over to them, to comfort them and help them escape this nightmare. What will we do? she asked them silently. We can't let the hyenas take over. They'll destroy everything...and everyone. Then she saw something that infuriated her, and made her fur itch with anger. Zira, the arrogant young lioness, was sidling up to Scar, actually giggling when he talked with her. As soon as Scar walked off, Sarabi approached Zira, fixing her with a stern glare. "How can this be a good time to smile and laugh?" she demanded. "This is a day of mourning, not flirting and giggling. Two lives were lost today!" Zira snorted. "My, my, Sarabi. That temper will get you nowhere," she responded with a simpering tone, a tone that almost made Sarabi want to smack her. "Come on, Sarabi, just admit it. Mufasa's reign was pretty weak, and Scar had the right idea to invite the hyenas into the Pride Lands; he can unite lions and hyenas together. As for Simba, he would've been a pathetic king indeed. With Scar, there will be much more order and progress." Sarabi knew that Zira didn't particularly get along with Mufasa or Simba, but hearing her slander her late king and son was too much. "You don't know that," she snapped. "Even if you didn't agree with Mufasa, he did his best to uphold this land's traditions. And Simba would have done the same." "Quit living in the past already, Sarabi, and get your head out of the clouds," growled Zira. "Scar will be the better king for us, just you wait. Now if you'll excuse me, I must find Scar." Then she paused and snorted, "And as if you would make a good queen for Scar. You're nothing but an old has-been. What good would someone like you do for the pride?" Whipping her tail at Sarabi's face as she spun around, Zira trotted off. Sarabi fumed, wanting to tell Zira off more, but she decided to leave the selfish lioness to her fantasies. "Sarabi?" a small voice piped up behind her. The queen turned around and saw Nala crouched before her, eyes full of tears and fright; behind her, the younger cubs began wrestling with each other. "What did Scar mean by a 'new era'? Are we letting the hyenas stay here?" Now Sarabi realized that she wasn't the only one who lost something today. Nala had lost her best friend; she would never get to play with him again. Sarabi bent down to touch the cub's forehead with her nose, as she had done with Simba many times before. "I don't know," she admitted, watching as the other lionesses and cubs surrounded her. "I just don't know." Yips and snarls made the lionesses look around. The hyenas were helping themselves to the lionesses' last kill, chewing and smacking their lips. As they ate, they bit at the younger hyenas, forcing them to stay back. Hyenas were too different from the Pride Lands' lions. Lions in the Pride Lands never hogged a fresh kill, neither bitten nor scratched over a meal. What was worse was Scar and Zira standing back and grinning, encouraging this behavior. "Scar thinks we have to live together with the hyenas," Sarabi began slowly. "But I don't think it'll last. Lions and hyenas have always been enemies, even outside the Pride Lands." "The nerve of that foolish girl," Sarafina added in a disappointed tone; Sarabi could tell that she was talking about Zira. "I know what Scar has become, and I don't know what she sees in him now. With Mufasa and Simba dead, I can only see dark days ahead." It was true. Zira was not to be trusted anymore, but Scar was the one that Sarabi did not trust at all. He seemed too eager to share the news of Mufasa and Simba's deaths, and the way he asked her to be his queen made her pelt prickle. She would never be his queen. Mufasa would always be in her heart, and she would never accept another mate ever again. As for Scar's promise that the lion and hyena would live together, Sarabi knew that it was something big. It was also going to be something bad. Finally, she found the courage to speak. "I don't know exactly what will happen," she told the lionesses and their cubs. "But I know that we will not give up; we just need to let them think that they've won. Scar may think that we will immediately adapt to his 'future', but we'll show him that our spirits cannot be broken." She turned her gaze to the other lionesses, spinning until she could see them all. "Don't always succeed in hunts, and if you do, catch prey as big as a hare; better we do not catch much of anything than give up our meals to the hyenas. Never go anywhere alone. We must stand united as a pride; we need each other more than ever. So are you with me, lions?" There was no doubt that they still followed their queen. They dipped their heads to her, and she to them. Pride Rock would always be their home, Sarabi thought as she looked up to the midnight sky. She had lost her mate and son in one day; she could not afford to lose her home too. Sarabi and Nala stood in Tamino's tree. As it did, Tamino groaned with sadness and tears came out from her eyes causing her to weep loudly. It had been a horrible day, which would only lead to a lot more horrible days. Mufasa and Simba were gone, and Scar had allowed the hyenas to invade their home, flouting the ancient law and tradition of borders. Even Tamino knew that inviting a lot of hyenas to the Pride Lands was just asking for trouble. "Mi-Leh-Leh, Mbyani Mpoka." she began her lamentation, the prayer that was used when a member of the Pride Lands was needlessly killed. She bowed her head and murmured, eyes focused on her hands as she clenched one into a fist. "Kumuyini. Kembe Ntsembele, Mbiyani Mpoka. Lundila. Mwana Hosanna." Then she turned her attention to the painting of Simba she had made months ago. Sadness overtook her as she rested her hand on the painting before wiping across it. It was a sign that a royal member of the family - a cub at that - was gone, dead at the prime of his life. Tamino looked to the sky, at the twinkling stars and the shining moon. "You have left us too soon, my king and prince!" she said with loud weeping. "The pride and your subjects need your guidance!" All that answered her was a slight breeze. They thought that all hope was lost.