Was this what he was now? A murderer? Scar stared into the distance, lost in thought as he pondered what he had just done. He had sent a cub to his death. Not just any cub, his
own nephew. It was true that Simba stood in the way of the ultimate prize, the throne. It was true that the boy was a mirror of his father. Scar shook his head to clear his
thoughts; Simba was collateral damage, a necessary death. Could he let this happen? A sudden surge of protective anger rose up inside the scarred lion and he roared, hyenas
were vermin, they were the murderers not him! And on his life he would save his nephew from the trap he had set, even if it cost him everything.