"Little roar!" scoffed Simba as his Uncle Scar went to fetch his Dad. He glanced down and saw a lizard.

"Rarr!" he tried. The lizard blinked, unimpressed. "Rarr!" This was going nowhere. "RARR!" Simba's roar echoed off the walls of the gorge.

Wow, now that sounded good. He couldn't wait to show Mufasa.

Suddenly, Simba noticed that the ground had started to shake. Puzzled, he looked up and heard an ominous crowing sounding out like a warning siren from the African birds. Then Simba saw it. Thousands of wildebeast were running towards him; frantic and dangerous.

 He gasped, eyes becoming large orbs. And he ran, as fast as he could.

Simba spotted a small tree and he quickly climbed up it; this was his only chance to get out of the stampede.

 

 Then, Zazu appeared, flapping his wings at a rapid pace.

"Zazu, help me!" Simba screamed above the noise.

"Your father is on the way, hold on!"

Simba slipped. "Hurry!"

He fought to keep on the rickety branch and he heard in the distance, the voice of his Dad.

"Hold on Simba!"

 But it was different. Mufasa sounded frightened.

A wildebeast nudged the tree and Simba nearly fell. "Aargh!"

He gasped, trying and trying to stay upright. A split second later, a crack rang in his ears and he flew through the air landing painfully. His head hit something. Hard.

Simba felt very strange, his mind had become fuzzy and it was so hard to stay awake. His eyes were half closed.

"Dad," he said, dizzy. And everything was gone.

        ***

   Mufasa ran through the stampede, one thought lodged in his brain. Find Simba. He looked all around him but it was no use; his cub was nowhere to be found.

"Zazu!" he yelled, skidding out of the stampede and climbing onto a ledge. "You said you saw him, I can't find him!"

Zazu nodded. "I did see him, right on the tree! Oh my!"

Mufasa looked at what Zazu was pointing at and stared. The tree was broken, snapped clean in two.

"Oh, God!" Mufasa uttered. Then he turned to Zazu and covered up his moment of weakness so efficiently that it was almost as if the two words hadn't been spoken.

"I'm going to look for him again, Zazu," he stated. "Please keep watch. He might be around-"

"Sire, you could get badly injured."

"Zazu," Mufasa replied swiftly. "I need to find Simba."

The brief conversation closed. Mufsa sprinted ahead, dodging wildebeast and keeping his eyes peeled for Simba.

Something caught the corner of his eye and he stopped.

"No..." he murmered. "It can't be..."

Straight in front of him, was something that looked very like a lion cub. But it was lying on the ground, motionless.

"Help," Mufasa muttered wildly to himself. "Somebody, anybody..."

Without pausing to think, Mufasa lunged in front of the cub, shielding it with his body from the wildebeast. There was no mistaking him; it was Simba.

He carefully picked up his son in his mouth and clambered back onto the ledge. Zazu returned, shocked.

"Oh my goodness!"

Mufasa did not reply. He contracted his claws so they would not touch the little lion's fur.

Mufasa put his paw over Simba's tiny chest, willing to feel a heartbeat, the slightest sign of life.

He bent over the still form of his son and said, in an undertone so Zazu could not hear: "Stay with me, Simba."

And then he tried again, to hear or feel his son's heart beating but...nothing. That was when panic started to kick in, draining the colour from his face.

Zazu looked at Mufasa. "Sire, I'm so sorr-"

"Ssh!" It rushed out of his mouth before he could think but he couldn't help it; for one fleeting moment he thought he could hear Simba's heartbeat. But it returned to the deathly silence.

Mufasa swallowed, blinking quickly. He shook his head slowly, saying in a hoarse whisper,"This is all my fault."

"Your majesty-"

"This is-" Mufasa repeated, a little stronger this time- "All my fault."

He carefully picked Simba up in his jaws and started the ascent. But he was soon blocked by his brother. At first, Mufasa thought he saw a flicker of triumph in Scar's eyes when they moved over Simba but it must have been his imagination.

"Brother," he said in an oily tone, "I am sorry."

Zazu butted in: "Well, you certainly don't look it!"

Mufasa silenced Zazu with a look. In a way, he was quite glad that he couldn't speak while Simba was in his mouth but he didn't think he would be able to without breaking down anyway.

Instead, he bowed his head in gratitude to Scar and walked on.

If he had stayed for a split second longer, he would have heard Scar's victorious laugh.

*** 

Mufasa walked across the planes for a few minutes and then found that he couldn't continue. Not because he was too tired, it was just, without Simba scampering along with him, chatting or doing all of the cute things he did, he felt so...empty.

Mufasa bent down and placed Simba on the ground.

"Can we-" he was a little startled at how weak his voice sounded. "Can we stop for a moment?"

"Of course, sire."

He half collapsed onto the dry grass and then he looked at Simba. It looked just as if he were sleeping...Oh why did these things happen? Why?!

He heard the last conversation that he'd had with Simba, some of the cubs final words: "Dad, we're pals, right?"

Mufasa moaned almost as if he was ill but he was merely trying to block the words that were echoing in his head. Zazu glanced at him, worried, but he heard, yet again, Simba's voice...

"And we'll always be together, right?"

And then Mufasa cried out in anguish, not caring that Zazu could hear: "My son! My son, my little son! Oh, Simba, f-forgive m-me p-please...!"

Before he could stop himself, he was sobbing and sobbing and sobbing, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, soaking his mane.

Zazu looked extremely awkward and Mufasa couldn't blame him; he had never, not once, lost control like this. But it was impossible to stop crying, the waves of sadness were crashing over him. Zazu muttered something about "Going to tell the pride" and quickly flew away.

He looked down at Simba, and licked the top of his head lovingly. "If only I was qu-quicker," he whispered. "If only..."

***

Simba was tired, very tired. He wanted his father, where was his father? Something cut through his foggy mind, he heard, a lion. A lion was crying.

That can't be my dad Simba thought, disappointed. He never cries. I'm always the one who cries; I'm never as brave as him.

Now he was beginning to feel frightened because he had just realized that he couldn't hear the stampede. Where on earth was he then?

Simba tried to open his eyes but they felt extremely heavy. The darkness surrounding him was making him uneasy. He tried to call out for help but he was too exhausted. So, he screamed it inside his head: Dad! Dad! Help! I need you...!

***

Mufasa's body tensed, senses tingling. For a split second he was sure he could hear Simba shouting for help, even though the cub would not stir.

Oh, joy, I'm going mad aswell he thought ironically. Pull yourself together, Mufasa and stop this stupid crying!

The tears were still trickling down his face. What was it that he thought he heard Simba say? I need you... yes, that was it.

The truth was, he needed Simba more than anything...he remembered, all of the treasured memories with the dear little lion...

***

Sarabi was pale but smiling as she lifted the delicate baby for Mufasa to see.

"Look, darling," she said softly. "It's our little son. Isn't he gorgeous?"

Mufasa was overwhelmed, speechless in fact. The tiny cub's fur was a beautiful golden colour, his eyes bright and alert, curious, taking in everything.

"He's perfect, Sarabi," he replied and she licked his cheek. He returned the gesture warmly then bent down to look at his child.

"See, sweetheart? Here's your Dad," Sarabi exclaimed. The cub blinked, interested and reached his paw up to gently touch his father's face. Mufasa laughed.

"We still haven't thought of a name," Sarabi prompted.

"It hadn't really been on my mind tonight," Mufasa said. Just half an hour before the lion was born, he'd been pacing up and down the cave anxiously, jumping at any loud noises.

Sarabi giggled. "I could see that."

Mufasa looked out at the rising sun, which was the exact same shade as his son's fur. A light breeze ruffled his name and it was almost as if the wind had shyly whispered the name to him.

"Simba," Mufasa said quietly. "I think his name should be Simba."

***

Mufasa wistfully thought of that moment. Sarabi had agreed it was a wonderful name...

***

Simba's presentation had ended and Mufasa sadly noticed that Scar hadn't attended. After telling Zazu to go to him, Mufasa turned and watched fondly as Sarabi gave Simba a bath.

"He seemed to take to Rafiki instantly," she told him in between cleaning.

Mufasa grinned. "Well, who wouldn't?" he said, thinking back to when he was young, always visiting Rafiki's tree. "Scar didn't seem so keen on him though..."

"Speaking of which, shouldn't you be going to see him?"

"Yes, I should be." He wasn't looking forward to it though.  Mufasa got to his feet. "See you in a bit."

He was almost out of the cave when he heard someone yell:"Dad!"

Mufasa whipped round. Simba had stood up and was staring straight at him.

"Simba, what did you say?" Sarabi asked.

Simba looked at her then at Mufasa and said,"Dad."

"Oh my gosh..." Sarabi said, shocked.

Mufasa was equally surprised. He replied, "His first word..."

 ***

Mufasa breathed in deeply, trying to compose himself. The memories were like daggers piercing his devastated heart...

***

What would Dad do? Simba thought desperately. Dad would...never give up. He would keep on going. That's what I have to do!

He was beginning to feel happier, stronger...

***

Mufasa sighed heavily. He couldn't just stay here, moping. Not when Sarabi would be going frantic at Pride Rock.

He looked, again, at his son. His beloved little son. Simba.

He bent down and gently nuzzled his son's

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