Ah, picture this! You're sprawled out like royalty, stretched long and languid on the soft grass just outside your cozy den. The sun pours itself over the savannah like liquid gold, wrapping everything in a warm, lazy glow, and the gentle tickle of the blades beneath your fur lulls you into a perfect state of bliss. For a fleeting moment, the world feels endless, serene, and untouched.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, he appears—Gojo! Bounding into view with a dramatic flair only he could muster, his snow-white fur practically ignites in the sunlight, shimmering like a thousand tiny diamonds. He's radiant, a cub-shaped comet with an energy that seems to ripple through the golden air itself.

"Tariqa, you absolutely won't believe what I just heard!" he bursts out, his voice a jubilant melody, quivering with a wild, irresistible excitement. His cerulean eyes are wide, glittering with the kind of intrigue that only Gojo can carry. You can't help but wonder if he was born with that sparkle or if he cultivated it just to drive everyone crazy.

You, the picture of calm grace, lift your head and blink those dazzling azure eyes of yours. A playful smile tugs at your lips as you regard him with the indulgence of a queen humoring her most enthusiastic subject. "What happened, big brother?" you purr, your voice dripping with teasing affection, knowing full well that Gojo never disappoints when it comes to spinning the most elaborate tales.

And oh, the scene is perfect. Two young adventurers basking in the golden light of dreams, with the vast savannah stretching endlessly before you, promising magic, mystery, and mischief just beyond the horizon. You lean into the moment, eager for whatever wild adventure Gojo is about to unravel. Because with him, every word is a spark, and every day is a story waiting to be told.

But then... something changes. The bright energy radiating from Gojo begins to flicker. His jubilant bounce dims, and his usually dazzling smile falters, slipping away like sunlight swallowed by an unexpected cloud. He exhales slowly, his usual larger-than-life demeanor shrinking into something small, something vulnerable.

"King Mufasa is dead," he murmurs, his voice softer now, carrying a weight you've never heard from him before. His tail, which moments ago was dancing with excitement, droops lifelessly behind him. The words hang in the air, impossibly heavy, like a shadow cast over the brightest day.

Your playful smile freezes, your heart dropping like a stone into the pit of your stomach. Your wide, sparkling eyes—so full of curiosity and mischief just moments ago—now reflect pure disbelief. Time slows as you stare at Gojo, trying to process the enormity of what he's just said. Mufasa? Gone? It doesn't make sense. It can't make sense.

"What did you just say?" you whisper, your voice trembling with shock and confusion. The question escapes your lips before you even realize you've spoken, but the urgency in your tone makes it clear—you need to hear it again, to make sure you've heard it wrong.

The world around you seems to shift. The greens of the grass dull into muted shades, and the warmth of the sun feels distant, as though it, too, mourns. Everything that had felt so safe, so constant, is now unsteady. Your paws press firmly into the earth beneath you, grounding yourself against the tide of questions rising within you.

Gojo doesn't answer immediately. He just looks at you, his bright eyes clouded with the weight of something neither of you are ready to face. For once, the world of endless laughter and adventure you share with your brother feels small, fragile—a moment fractured by an unthinkable loss.

And you know, deep down, that nothing will be quite the same. The sunlit games and carefree stories may remain, but today marks a shift. The magic and mischief will now carry a shadow, a memory of the great lion whose roar once echoed across the Pride Lands.

The warm afternoon air seems colder now, the news settling between you and Gojo like an invisible barrier, heavy and unmoving. You glance at him, your dazzling blue eyes searching for something—anything—that might anchor you in this shifting tide of sorrow. But even Gojo, your ever-steady big brother, looks unmoored, his usual brightness dimmed by the weight of everything he's learned.

"How's Simba doing? And Nala?" you ask softly, clinging to threads of hope. You need to believe there's something left unbroken in the wake of this storm.

Gojo hesitates, his tail curling at his side. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, a mournful whisper carried on the breeze. "Simba is gone too. We don't know if he's... alive or dead," he says, his words stumbling into silence. He swallows hard, his azure eyes darkened with an uncharacteristic uncertainty. "As for Nala... she's suffering."

The stillness that follows is almost unbearable, a silence that stretches out like an empty savannah, vast and echoing with unspoken fears. Your chest tightens, the playful rhythms of your heart replaced by a heavy ache. Everything feels different now—unsteady, fragile, as though the ground beneath your paws could crumble at any moment.

You look at Gojo again, your voice quieter now. "And Prince Scar?" You already know the answer. The pieces are falling into place, but you need to hear it to believe it.

Gojo sighs, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his reply. "He's king now," he says, bitterness creeping into his tone. "But... he's not doing well. He's not ruling for the kingdom. He's ruling for himself."

His words hang in the air, and you both know the implications. The Pride Lands—a kingdom that once thrummed with life and unity—was now crumbling. Where there was once harmony, there was now discord. Scar's reign wasn't a chapter of triumph; it was a shadow over everything your world had ever known.

Your tail flicks behind you, cutting through the oppressive air like a banner of defiance. You straighten your shoulders, lifting your head, and a quiet determination gleams in your eyes. "I will go and find Simba," you declare, your voice steady, each word like a stone laid into an unshakable foundation.

Gojo's head jerks up, his eyes wide with disbelief and a flicker of panic. "What? No, Tariqa! You can't! Do you know what Mother and Father will do? They'll lose it—and so will I!" His voice pitches higher, the protective instincts of a big brother rising to the surface. "This isn't like chasing down some rogue hyena pack or sneaking out for fun. It's dangerous out there."

You step closer to him, a soft, understanding smile tugging at your lips. "I have to, Gojo," you murmur, pressing your side against his, wrapping yourself around him in a gesture of quiet reassurance. You nuzzle his cheek gently, a soothing warmth against his rising worry. "He is my best friend. If he's out there... he needs me. And if he's not—" Your voice falters, but only for a moment. You draw in a breath, steadying yourself. "I need to know."

Gojo sighs, his forehead resting briefly against yours. His usual confidence seems shaken, his voice laced with a rare vulnerability. "You always do this, you know? Charging into things without thinking it through," he mutters. But there's no bite to his words—only love and worry.

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your own shimmering with a bittersweet mix of sadness and resolve. "I'll be fine, onii-san," you say gently, using the affectionate term that always melts his guard. Your tone is light, but your gaze is serious, a silent promise that you'll do everything you can to come back to him.

For a moment, he studies you, his tail flicking in agitation, his expression unreadable. Then he sighs again, his shoulders slumping in reluctant acceptance. "You're impossible, Tariqa," he says, shaking his head. "But if anyone can do this, it's you. Just..." He pauses, his voice softening. "Come back. Okay?"

You smile at him, the kind of smile that speaks of hope, love, and a dash of mischief—a reminder that no matter how far you go, you'll always be his little sister. "Always," you whisper, stepping away to face the horizon.

As you take your first steps into the unknown, the sunlight catches your fur, turning you into a glowing silhouette against the savannah. Behind you, Gojo watches, his heart heavy yet filled with pride. He knows you're walking into danger, but he also knows that nothing could ever dim the light you carry.

The world may have shifted, its colors darkened by loss and fear, but as you set off in search of Simba, a spark of hope ignites in the distance. It's small, fragile, but it's there—flickering in the heart of a lioness determined to change the course of destiny.