He was afraid.
He hadn't been a moment ago. he was carefree munching on a nice leg of wildebeest. Then Zazoo came.
'Your majesty! Stampede in the gorge! Simba's down there!"
Mufassa ran the hardest he had ever ran in his life, he had to save Simba. his boy.
There he was, hanging from a limp branch, just above the wildebeest.
Mufassa ran with all his might, he needed to get to his boy.
A wildebeest ran into the tree Simba was on, snapping it, throwing Simba into the air.
Time stood still as Mufassa jumped and caught him.
The rest was a blur as he rushed to get his boy to safety.
There, he was safe now to pull himself up. Crud!
Mufassa slid down the rock surface right back into the stampede.
Crud, crud, crud!
Scar was standing on a ledge observing, waiting.
Oh good, Scar. He'll help me.
Mufassa ran up the rock surface "Brother! Help me!"
Scar dug his claws into Mufassas. "Long live the king," then he let go.
"Nooooo!" Simba yelled not far off.
My boy, what'll ha-
The end. It comes to us all, some earlier than most and some at the hands of others. Some horrific and some peaceful.
This one had a reason. So that the young boy would one day become a mighty king, but not yet, evil had to rule first and that evil had a name. Scar.