AN: Guess what! I managed to birth another one! Two weeks is much better than fourteen months, isn't it?

CAPUT X – SALVOS APTISSIMUM (Survival of the Fittest)

(Mufasa)

Sitting upon his throne of rotten hay in the most comfortable corner of the cage, Mufasa could not even bring himself to look at his brother.

They have always been enemies, at least as long as he could remember. But this… This was too much, even for him.

Twice he had thought of exiling Scar from the Pridelands- once after their father left the kingdom, and then again, after the terrible tragedy which resolved in the death of the members of his brother's Lion Guard. Both of these events could only be regarded as catastrophic. And for both of them, somewhere in the depths of his subconsciousness, Mufasa continued to blame Scar. Still, considering his prejudice may be irrational due to a lack of solid evidence, he permitted his fallen sibling to remain in their kingdom, and cling to what was left of his shattered dignity.

When he first felt his scent in the human wagon they were both incarcerated in, Mufasa thought he was dreaming. And after he opened his eyes and saw his brother's face again, happy to see Scar for the first time in years, he thanked the Old Kings that he had refrained from removing him permanently from his life. Mufasa was no fool- he knew perfectly of his brother's apt mind and other skills which, combined with his own, could make of them an excellent team. Just like all those ages ago, when they still hunted together in the savanna… With his brother, escape would have been so much easier.

The only problem was that Scar, even in these almost desperate circumstances, seemed to be only interested in one thing- adding more weight to his already unsurmountable load of hardships.

It wasn't just that Mufasa felt annoyed. It wasn't because he felt his royal dignity injured in the presence of other animals. No. This was about something more than just feelings. By refusing to aid him in returning to the Pridelands, Scar was committing a tremendous crime against the wellbeing of the kingdom. It was as if he no longer cared. He'd always been cynical and ambivalent, but the weeks of captivity had apparently turned him into a complete nihilist.

But that was not all. Deep in his lawful heart of a monarch, Mufasa also felt a prick of shock when he heard his brother bragging about his affair with the young Zira. Not only did this wicked relationship happen behind the king's back. Zira was also already the mate of the leader of a pride from the Marshlands- the Pridelanders' close and valued allies…

And there Scar was now. Snatched away from his illegitimate mate, probably for the sake of experiencing at least a bit of shallow fun before their upcoming demise, his brother shamelessly lay side by side with the two Persian lionesses. The trio groomed one another's fur in the manner of a miniature pride, emitting sounds of enjoyment which sounded so grotesque within these prison walls. The scene, completely ignored by the others, made Mufasa's guts churn…

The knave. The traitor - thought the older lion. Bewitching two low-born females into allying with him in order to stand a better chance on the arena with his unimpressive physique and his poor fighting capabilities… Mufasa considered this as Scar's ultimate downfall.

He wasn't jealous. After all, he had his own mate, Sarabi, waiting for him way over in the Pridelands… But he could also hardly imagine what Zidi and Jo saw in his brother. After the two lionesses' declaration that they would start no friendships in the cages, he was almost sure that they had some personal interest in this arrangement. Perhaps they thought that, if they would become pregnant, the humans would spare them for a longer amount of time…?

Twitching with disgust, Mufasa turned his eyes away from his loathsome brother and the two new turtle-doves at his side. He had to focus. He may have been left alone, but if he was still to survive, he needed to use his own potential to the fullest.

He was king. He needed to fight. And, in order to win, he also needed to know what he was heading toward. Like a hunter surveying the savanna before the bloodshed begins.

He focused his attention on the bear in the adjacent cell. Ursus proved to him to be the most helpful of the pack of fellow jailmates, the years he spent in the amphitheater having given the hairy beast a fair amount of experience in this world which the new arrivals from southern Africa found alien and hostile.

Maintaining his serious composure and sharp look, ignoring the anger which the threats that Scar had issued the past night had awaken in him, the king of the Pridelands cleared his throat.

-"Tell me more about these Games," Mufasa demanded.

The huge hunk of meat and blubber, having just finished washing his breakfast down with a drink from the bowl in his cage, wiped the water dripping from his muzzle with his trunk-like arm, and arched his lips in an acrid smile.

-"You want stories, clawsnfangs? Oh, I got stories for ya. But are you sure you really wanna hear these stories?"

The sarcastic bear's mirth irritated Mufasa even more.

-"Yes, I do!" he raised his voice somewhat. - "You've been out there many times. I haven't. Tell me what I should be getting ready for!"

Saying that, the lion pointed his head at the barred gap under the ceiling of one of the walls of his own enclosure, which was a window with a view on the arena outside. In response to that, Ursus shrugged, and was about to say something when he was interrupted by Burns. The tiger, who lay resting his head on his paws, said to him:

-"Ah, c'mon. I don't suppose we can scare this guy with anything we say. I mean, look at him! He's huge, his muscles look so shredded that it seems like they're about to rip through his skin! I bet my stripes he's a killer. Or at least he used to be, back at home."

-"Well, I'm not so sure," responded the bear. - "I heard that in lion prides, it's the females who do most of the hunting. They're not lone wolves, like you, me, or Pardus over there. They're mostly only useful in the mating season…"

Scar, lounging by the wall in the embrace of his two companions, let out a muted chuckle, which the lionesses also picked up.

His brother, however, who was unused to being referred to in the third person, dug his claws deeper into the dirt, stopping a curse. Blowing steam from his nostrils, he said to Burns and Ursus:

-"I was a hunter. And I am a fighter. If you doubt it… I will prove it to you as soon as I'm out of this cage."

There was something in the tone of his voice, some odd regality, which made the two animals lose their merriment. Seeing the spark in Mufasa's eyes caused even the mysterious black panther Pardus to prick up his ears as he sat in the middle of his own cell, ever silent.

The bear and the tiger shared a confused glare.

-"Awright, if you say so…" mumbled Ursus.

-"I'm looking forward to seeing you in action, Muffy!" Burns announced with excitement.

Locking his sight on the first one of them, Mufasa huffed:

-"Information. I need information."

-"Fine, fine!" the bear finally complied. Then, sitting on his butt and stretching out his fat legs, he continued. - "The Games. What can I say about them… Well, the humans organize them at least once a month. Sometimes more frequently than that. Usually around some big feast of theirs, but if the common people demand it, the proconsul might honor their request and have Games any time. Those guys are always hungry for blood, let me tell you that…"

-"Wait a minute. Proconsul?" Mufasa's brow wrinkled as he heard a term unfamiliar to him.

-"Yeah, the governor," Burns explained, rolling over to his side sluggishly. - "The boss of all of Carthage. The emperor's chief crony in these parts."

-"Galerius Maximus," Ursus pronounced the human's name with a staged sublimity. "You'll meet him, eventually."

The lion then wondered aloud.

-"What kind of a name is Galerius Maximus?"

-"Well, we usually just call him Galerius for short," the bear elaborated.

-"Or that prick, which in his case, is even shorter…" sneered Burns. "You'll see him soon enough."

Ursus then went on, saying:

-"The humans love long names almost as much as they love blood. The emperor's name, for example, is Caesar Publius Licinus Valerianus. Or, to state his full title- Emperor Caesar Publius Licinus Valerianus, Patriotic, Favored, Unconquered Augustus, Conqueror of the Germans, High Priest, seven times Tribune, once Emperor, four times Consul, Father of the Fatherland."

-"The king of an empire built on war and conquest…" Mufasa spat with disgust, as the thought was repulsive to him, a king himself. - "And he dares to call himself their Father!"

-"Ah, you don't know half of it!" Ursus declared. Then, he suddenly arose, and assuming a more serious tone, said:

-"To plunder, butcher, steal- these things they misname empire. They make a desolation, and they call it peace."

That statement seemed especially peculiar to Mufasa. For some reason, he had a feeling that Ursus did not just make it up.

-"Whose words are those?" the lion arched a brow.

Ursus smiled.

-"Tacitus. A human scholar, one of the cleverer ones," he waved his paw dismissively. - "Nevermind."

That was really interesting, Mufasa thought. How would the bear, who had been locked in a cage for years, know all these things about the dreadful Roman Empire? The mystery intrigued him, though unfortunately he couldn't waste time by asking about that right now. Instead, he got back on track.

-"So the humans aren't satisfied with the violence of their wars, and this is why they also like to watch others fight in the arenas?"

-"Right," Ursus responded, hanging his paws over the bars of his cage. - "Once killing starts, it is difficult to draw the line. That's also Tacitus."

-"Showoff…" Burns mocked him.

-"Hey, it's true, and you know it!" the bear retorted, grinning.

-"Enough!" the exasperated Mufasa called for their attention again. - "You said we're in the middle of the Games. But why were these organized? Is it some big festival for the humans? So big that they had to ship victims for their arena all the way from the foot of Kilimanjaro?"

This time, his cellmates did not have a ready answer. Both the tiger and the bear shrugged, after which Ursus said:

-"Good question, clawsnfangs."

-"Usually, it's not hard to predict when the next Games will happen," Burns continued. - "The emperor's birthday in October, the Saturnalia in December…"

-"Only that now, it's kind of random. Which means that the reason must have been either popular demand, or the proconsul's own initiative," continued the bear. - "The immovable feasts have a set schedule. The impromptu games- not always. Usually, they start off with the executions of criminals to stir things up, which is when we first get to enter the arena. As the executioners, of course. Then, the horse racing, which gives us a moment of rest. But when the beast fights begin, that's when the real excitement comes into play! And danger, too. If you live through that, your next challenge will be the gladiators. By gladiators, I mean armed humans. Thraex, murmillo, hoplomachus… You'll get to meet all of them. If you survive, that is. And if you manage to survive the beast hunts… then you'll be free to retire, and observe as the humans face one another in duels, or sometimes in real, big battles which take place on the arena. I tell you, there's nothing better than to watch those iron-clad idiots slaughter one another… But you'll first have to do your own work in spilling blood, heh-heh…"

Listening to Ursus' descriptions, Mufasa envisioned all of these things in his mind. He knew that, eventually, he would have to fight. But the fact that he did not know whom he would face, was greatly unsettling… Killing for sport was always prohibited in the Pridelands. He did not want to do it… but he knew he had to. Closing his eyes, he sighed, thinking of his distant kingdom- his queen and his son.

For them. I will fight. And I will win!

Noticing his silence, Burns rolled over on the grimy floor again, and chuckled.

-"Hey, no sweat, Muffy! Don't worry! I'm sure you can bite off a few heads with that huge mouth of yours. You're an impressive specimen, gotta hand you that. The humans will have a ride watching you fight. I doubt they'll let you get killed off that soon."

-"The gods are on the side of the stronger!" Ursus affirmed.

-"That's also that Tacitus guy, isn't it?" the tiger jeered at him. - "There's no way you'd have made something this smart up yourself."

Ignoring his two most loquacious jailfellows, Mufasa remained steeped in his meditations. Then, in the corner of his eye, he noticed that Pardus was gazing straight at him. Lifting up his head, he wished to tell the irritating, mysterious panther to look away.

But then he noticed something else. The two lionesses, who were flanking his brother as if he was the alpha male in their cage, were also curiously glaring in his direction. Perhaps they were once again assessing his chances of survival based on his externals?

But why did their eyes seemed so… interested? Excited, even? The mere thought making him cringe, Mufasa turned his head.

In spite of that, however, one of the females did not seem deterred. Zidi, the mother of Jo and the more experienced of the two, stood up from the floor and stretched, abandoning the drowsy Scar as he rested his handsome black head against her daughter's ribcage.

Zidi had just finished cleaning herself after her morning meal. And now, it seemed, she was hungry for another juicy piece of meat.

Spreading her feline pheromones all around, the lioness slithered step by step to the other side of the cage, to the comfortable residence of Scar's older brother.

Mufasa paid her no heed, remaining stiff as a plank, his face turned toward the wall as a sign of disregard.

Zidi encircled him, placing her strong paws on the ground slowly. He wished she'd understand that he didn't enjoy her company, and just go away. But she didn't.

Finally, the stubborn lioness sat right in front of him, flailing the tip of her tail around. Willingly or not, Mufasa now saw her in better light than before. Zidi was slightly older than him. A collection of scars adorned her dark-golden coat like a suit of armor. She looked like she could eat Sarabi whole, and Sarabi was the strongest female in the Pridelands.

Mufasa lifted his eyes at her reluctantly, indicating his feelings with a frown. Zidi, however, only narrowed her acute stare. Finally, with a cautious yet curious voice, she asked:

-"Are you really a king?"

The lion deliberated whether or not he ought to answer for a moment. He finally decided to issue his response in the form of another question.

-"And what's it to you?"

Undeterred by his frigidity, Zidi smiled, as if the roughness of Mufasa's voice caused her pleasure.

-"I think you look like a king," she purred.

After a few more seconds of silence, during which Mufasa remained unfazed by her seduction, the lioness attempted to sit even closer to him.

-"How about you let me get back to my old corner, and maybe then we can talk more about your past…"

What Zidi really wanted to do was to lie down by Mufasa's side. But the lion, who was still much larger than her, would have none of it.

-"Stay away!" he growled, pretending to lunge at her before Zidi could touch him. The old lioness evaded his assault, laughing out loud, and halted in the middle of the cage.

-"Alright, alright! You don't like company. I get it!"

-"I don't like your company, unlike my brother!" Mufasa said, his eyes already blood-shot. - "What do you want from me? To become the father of your cubs? For your information, I already have a family!"

After hearing those words, Zidi and Jo looked at one another, laughing. Then, the older one of them responded:

-"Too bad for you. When I got pregnant with my daughter, the humans left me alone for almost half a year. Very soon, you will appreciate how much precious time that is… But don't flatter yourself too much, Muffy. I wasn't thinking of that at all! I only asked a simple question!"

-"The answer is yes, I am a king!" Mufasa screamed at her, indignant. - "I already told you that!"

-"Well, you sure act like one…" - Zidi snorted, turning her back at him.

Scar watched their argument with surprising calmness. But once the offended female rejoined her daughter at his side, he sat up, fixing his green eyes at his brother. Mufasa did not fail to notice it.

-"Don't even say a thing!" he warned his younger sibling.

Looking surprised, Scar made a long face.

-"Say what?" he inquired. "That you're not a king? Pardon me, I may have not expressed myself clearly enough the last time. What I really meant to say is that you're no longer a king. You've got to face the facts, Mufasa- the Pridelands are pretty far away right now. And what is a king without a kingdom? Hardly a king at all, correct?"

His voice sounded innocent, but his brother knew he was only saying this to humiliate him and look better in the sight of the females. Sadly however, he didn't have a ready answer for that, and Scar continued talking.

-"In fact, if you'd done a better job patrolling the borders of our former kingdom, we may have still been there. Then you would still be king. But since you've failed at your task, you're not. You've lost your title like a cub loses his spots."

His audacity was indescribable… but, unfortunately, there was some truth to that. If it were otherwise, Mufasa could tear his brother's throat out. But since Scar's words indeed made him feel a slight pinch of guilt in his heart, he tamed his anger, and instead looked for a more reasonable retort.

-"I am only one lion," he spoke through clenched teeth. - "Allow me to remind you that ensuring the safety of the Pridelands used to be the duty of the Lion Guard. The Lion Guard of which you were once the leader. And whose members are all dead, because of your negligence!"

As he spoke, Mufasa saw Scar slowly losing his vigor. Facing such an argument, his brother was forced to hold his tongue.

-"If the Lion Guard was still around, none of this would have happened!" the older lion once again yelled the biting accusation straight into his brother's face, reminding him of one of the most tragic events of their past- a terrible accident, which resulted in the death of four of the Pridelands' finest and most noble lions.

The incident was far in the past. The pain and antipathy remained.

And though this accident happened so long ago, Scar knew that he was the one responsible. He couldn't forget. And, perhaps, Mufasa's words now made him realize that also his own imprisonment was the result of that mistake which he had made all those years ago?

His brother enjoyed the look on Scar's face after he realized that. For once, he managed to shut him up- to cut short his haughty arrogance.

But then, Mufasa saw something which made that feeling of triumph turn bitter. Dumbstruck and crestfallen, Scar hung his head, his eyes showing signs of a deep sorrow which filled his heart upon reminiscing about the day he lost his companions, as well as the Roar of the Elders.

-"You…" breathing deeply, he mumbled in a broken voice, which was completely unlike him. - "You have no idea how much you've hurt me with those words…"

Unwilling to argue anymore, Scar simply slipped to the floor, rolling over to turn toward the wall. His two female minions, alarmed, swiftly flanked him, looking back at Mufasa with resentment.

The king, though he felt a sting somewhere deep inside, maintained a stone face.

Ursus and Burns looked at one another from between the bars of their cages and shrugged, unsure of what the two brothers were even talking about. Pardus purred silently and mysteriously.

There was nothing else left to say. The bear had told Mufasa that they needed to wait until the humans prepared the arena. Ignoring his brother, who brooded in the corner with the females, the lion decided to go to sleep.

He was awaken by Scar, who stood over him eerily. Flinching, Mufasa tried to move away, though his dark sibling did not take any action this time.

-"What do you want?" Mufasa snapped at him.

For a few more moments, his brother continued to fix his emerald eyes at him with a face that expressed absolutely nothing. Then, in a surprisingly passive tone, he said:

-"Your neck is bleeding."

Mufasa cocked his head. Scar was right. The leather collar which the humans had put on him had cut through the lion's skin due to his long days of struggle. Though the pain was irritating, he kept his mouth shut, as complaining about such petty things was unworthy of a king. Or at least that was what his father had taught him.

Then, Mufasa noticed something else.

-"Your collar has left a nasty sore as well," he said to Scar, whose jet-black mane was curled up with thin tangles of blood.

Instead of answering to that, his brother took a step closer, and said:

-"Hold still."

Noticing that Scar was bringing his muzzle suspiciously near his neck, Mufasa reacted with negation.

-"What are you doing?!" he asked, moving away.

-"How's it look like? I'm trying to help you!" Scar stated, insisting that the other lion allow himself to be touched.

Mufasa hesitated. Why, after all of this, would he trust his brother, after all? The expression on his face may have looked innocent, but the older brother knew that Scar could fake that easily.

-"Why?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes incredulously. - "Am I not an enemy to you?"

Scar frowned, waving his head in anger.

-"My enemy? Why would I make you one? Don't I have enough of them already? Don't we both have enough foes? No, Mufasa. I am not trying to fight you. All I'm trying to do, is to survive. Let's put aside these childish quarrels, as we should have done a long time ago. No use blaming one another for who is responsible for putting us in this hole. We are brothers, sons of the same mother! Sisi ni moja- we are one! How about we try to get through this… together… for once. Two heads are better than one, and a pride of lions has a way higher chance of survival than a single rogue. You know this. In the distant future, once we get back home, if we ever do, we can go on with our antagonisms as much as we want. But not now, brother… Not now."

That was a shocking proposition. Scar was calling for a truce? A radical change of attitude, compared to what he expressed just the night before. It must have been a trick of some sort…

But then again, why would it be? Wasn't that the only rational thing to do? Perhaps it just took his brother some time to understand it...

Reluctant yet compliant, Mufasa nodded. And then he slowly lifted his head, exposing his neck.

When Scar opened his mouth, baring his sharp teeth, the older lion nearly flinched. He felt pain, but the pain was the result of his brother pulling at the collar as he attempted to chew through it.

It took him several minutes, during which he mouthed muffled curses… but finally, Mufasa felt the dreadful thick leather band loosen, and fall to the floor.

The relief he experienced as he stretched his aching neck, was indescribable. For the first time in weeks, he felt a little more free. And to think that he owed it all to Scar!

-"You… you did it!" Mufasa exclaimed with genuine gratitude. - "I can't believe it!"

Satisfied with his success, his brother exhibited a big grin.

-"Was there any doubt? But enough babble. Now you get rid of my collar, and we'll be even! Hurry. This damn itching is driving me insane."

-"My pleasure!"

Having regained full control of his neck, Mufasa got to work immediately. Chewing through the thick leather proved to be quite the chore. The tanned skin was way more sturdy than any raw meat the king had ever eaten, even that of an elephant. He also almost choked on Scar's long black mane, and the more he moved his head trying to get the hair out of his face, the more his sibling cursed, rebuking him to stop pulling and hurry up.

But ultimately, the leather band could stand no chance against the Lion King's sharp teeth. When the collar finally snapped, Scar moaned with relief.

-"Free at last!"

Swatting the hated bond with a paw, he sent it flying through the air, stretching his aching cervical vertebrae with delight.

-"You're welcome…" Mufasa mumbled to him, indignant for not having received a proper thank-you.

Scar then looked at him, and a tiny smile appeared in the corner of his mouth. Amazingly enough, that may have actually been a sign of reconciliation... at least for the time being.

Thank the great Kings! This may still end well! - Mufasa thought to himself, and smiled back. - It appears that, for this to be possible, all we needed was a mutual enemy.

In the meantime, his brother walked over to his two female companions, proud as a peacock. The lionesses, however, did not seem all that impressed.

-"You know, Scar, the humans will not be too happy about this…" Zidi warned him.

The dark lion continued to grin.

-"Damn them all. I care not," he stated cockily. - "You're just jealous because my brother and I don't have collars on, and you and your daughter still do!"

-"Hmph," Zidi snorted. - "You get used to it…"

-"I can't even remember a time when I didn't wear a collar!" - added Jo.

Scar continued to gaze upon them in a patronizing way.

-"And that is precisely what differentiates you from us, my dears."

After that, Mufasa rested a bit more securely. He now thought that he had figured out Scar's plan. Under so much pressure, even his brother knew that he needed as much help as he could get. Fighting with others was no use, it was better to make friends of them. Even of those who declared that they would start no friendships. Apparently, even the sleazy, self-centered Scar had ways to convince people to work with him.

Mufasa almost chuckled. He had always been this way…

True, this one gesture of kindness could not possibly repair the consequences of long years of conflict. Way too much harm had already been done. But in these circumstances, he considered it a step in the right direction.

Scar was right. It was all about survival right now. Mufasa had his strength, his brother had his wits, and now, his two new female allies. If they worked together, perhaps there was still hope for them.

Lying on the hay, Mufasa remembered his home. He wondered what Simba and Sarabi were up to out there, under the sun of the savanna… Oh, what he would give to see them again! He wondered how his mate was doing, ruling the Pridelands as queen regent in his absence. He wondered how much his son had grown.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, he lifted his heart in petition to the Great Kings of the past, asking them that they would give him strength in order to return… Him, as well as Scar.

He let himself doze off. And as he did so, he failed to notice that some sort of a commotion had started around him. Humans were working outside, preparing the amphitheater for the continuation of the great Games.

Scar, who was awake, saw them moving about. And when two humans walked into the beast pens, he noticed that they too were wearing collars. He realized that they were also slaves.

Before the lion was able to inform his brother about his discovery, however, he noticed that the humans fixed their eyes at him, began talking to one another nervously, and then quickly departed.

-"You shoulda listened to Zidi, clawsnfangs…" Ursus mumbled to him from his cage ominously. - "Shoulda not touched those collars…"

Before Scar, or anyone, could do anything, a whole throng of humans rushed into the pens.

Mufasa was stirred by the sudden ruckus, and his brother calling his name. As soon as he saw tamers with grapnels and long rods entering their cage, he reacted automatically with a natural urge to attack. And although Scar did the same thing…

… the humans, used to handling unruly beasts, beat both the lions into submission. Bruised and bound by their awful devices, Mufasa and Scar could only growl and curse as their captors put a new set of collars around their necks. Then, slamming the metal doors behind their backs, they departed, congratulating one another on a job well done.

The brothers, in spite of having been completely battered, immediately became the laughing stock of their pen. Only Pardus kept himself from ridiculing them, but Pardus never laughed. Thoroughly exhausted from the beating they received, as well as from Ursus, Burns, Zidi and Jo's mockery, Mufasa and Scar collapsed side by side on the hay, panting.

The older brother realized yet again how great was the power which they were facing- which they needed to overcome somehow, if they were ever to see their homeland again. And he knew well that in order for that to be possible, him and Scar would need help from above.

When the other captive animals finally got bored and ceased laughing, hurting both in body and soul, Mufasa rolled over to his belly with a groan of pain and looked through the window at the distant sky.

-"Tusaidie, baba…" - he mumbled. - "Tusaidie…"

Scar then lifted his head from the floor. When their eyes met, Mufasa was taken aback by how much rage he saw in his sibling.

-"Don't you dare pray to him!" - the dark lion hissed viciously.

Truly, the old scars have not yet been healed.

AN: Tusaidie, baba means 'help us, father' is Swahili. Of course, Mufasa is addressing the deceased king Ahadi.

We need more freakin' Mufasa- that's what we need! In my older stories, I usually focus on Scar. But don't get me wrong- I still find the older of the brothers to be a very interesting character, as well. Again, if you are interested in the events from Mufasa and Scar's past which they mention, check out "Taka's Guard".

A little more about the Roman world in this chapter. Of course, there will be much more, as the Games are about to begin. So please tell me how you like that, as well as the brothers' relations with the other animals. Until next time! Maybe then we'll know more about what Scar's devious plan really is, and also, what the brothers will have to face on the sands of the arena.