Thin whiskers twitched in excitement as a small golden figure moved quietly through the tall savanna grasses, being very careful not to make a single sound to give his position away. There was his prey, lying directly in front of him, inattentive and possibly sleeping which was exactly how the young prince wanted it to be. Adjusting himself, Simba shifted his weight to the point where the cub’s stomach was brushing up against the dirt below. One wrong move and his cover would be blown completely."This is gonna be so great!" he thought to himself with a tiny smirk as he let his body fly forward like a spring, which flew through the air and hopefully landed on his intended target. His Uncle Scar.