“Everything went okay?” Mufasa asked. Zonyai nodded yes, and threw a piece of bread into the pond. Mufasa could tell something was on his mind because he didn’t seem quite like himself. “Talk to me, son, what’s eating you?” He frowned with concern and placed his hand on his shoulder, slightly gripping it.
“Nothing,” Zonyai shook his head as he stared down at the stale bread, breaking it into pieces. From the expression on his face, it wasn’t hard to tell that something was heavily weighing on his mind.
“Come on now, junior. I know that look on your face; we’re as good as father and son. What is it, a girl? You gotcha self a young tender, huh?” He smiled and nudged him. His cheeks rose making him look like Denzel Washington.
“How you figure that?” he chucked another piece of bread into
