Scar paused, listening. Behind him, the roars of Mufasa and the pride rang clear in the night:
"Who's land is this? Who's land is this? Ours. Ours. Ours."
The chorus faded. No answering claim came from the neighboring prides; no rogues raised their voices in challenge. No reason presented itself for Scar to join his meager strength to that of the pride, to safeguard kingdom and dynasty from the dangers without so that they might securely fall from within.
