🦁Mufasa & Taka:

Not a stray. Just lost…

War.

That's what you left behind. That's what caused the aching cuts in your pelt, nearly as painful as the throbbing grief in your heart. Prideless, but still proud. Alone, but you refuse to be lonely.

The forest is peaceful at this time of night — the only sound the gentle padding of your paws against the soft leaves, and the distant hum of cicadas. Moonlight glimmers through the leafy shelter above your head, the air cool and soothing.

But your mind is full of violence.

Still buzzing with the turmoil that drove you here. The scent of damp earth and crushed leaves does little to rid your nostrils of the thick blood stench that clings to you. Treading carefully through the undergrowth, you’re haunted by the memories. Alone, vulnerable, you’ve spent days — perhaps longer — wandering without direction, searching for safety, for something familiar. But all you’ve found so far is skittering prey that you don't have the energy to catch, and a deep crushing sense of hopelessness.

Until now.

You catch their scent before you see them — two young males in the undergrowth, their golden coats streaked with dirt, their steps heavy with exhaustion. One, strong and steady, moves with quiet determination. The other, slightly smaller, carries an edge of restlessness, his eyes scanning the darkness as if expecting it to turn against him.

The underbrush shields you perfectly as you sink lowly into it.

“This doesn’t look like the right way,” the smaller one, Taka, mutters, flicking his tail impatiently.

The taller lion, Mufasa, barely glances at him. “Because you have no idea where we’re going.”

“Well, do you?” There’s a teasing lilt to Taka's voice, but something lingers beneath it — something uncertain.

A pause. Then, Mufasa exhales, “Forward. That’s all that matters.”