Memories
Rage churned through Mufasa as he watched Scar slink away. It was bad enough that his younger brother disrespected him, but to display such rudeness toward Simba… He found himself wishing that Scar had challenged him to a fight.
"There's one in every family, sire," said Zazu, interrupting Mufasa's thoughts. His hornbill majordomo alighted on his shoulder. "Two in mine, actually. And they always manage to ruin special occasions."
Mufasa sighed. "What am I going to do with him?"
"He'd make a very handsome throw rug."
"Zazu!" Mufasa could feel his anger gradually fading.
"And just think," Zazu continued in a light-hearted tone, "whenever he gets dirty, you could take him out and beat him."
Mufasa chuckled at that but his mind stirred. Had Scar always been so obstinate? He thought back, struggling to remember when his younger brother, known as Taka in his youth, had changed. They used to play together as cubs, tussling in the tall grass and chasing one another. A wistful melancholy wormed through him at those memories. If Taka's playful bites were a little hard and the pranks he pulled on Mufasa slightly cruel, Mufasa hadn't really noticed…then. Taka was smaller and younger, he figured, and needed to prove his strength.
But he had turned sullen and bitter as he matured, refusing Mufasa's offers to practice pouncing and go on adventures, choosing instead to slink off somewhere and sulk. Was it because I, as the eldest, was first in line after Dad to become king? Mufasa frowned, wondering how he would have felt if the roles had been reversed. Possibly relieved, he thought. After watching Dad deal with all the problems in the Pride Lands, I knew what a difficult responsibility this would be. And I was right! Scar doesn't realize how lucky he was to have been born second!