"I looked into that distance for so many seasons that I forgot how to see anything close . When Rafiki found you had returned, I flew to the peak of Pride Rock to sound the alarm. But I couldn't. I opened my beak and nothing came out. Because for the first time in years, I had good news. And I no longer knew the sound of it."

The hornbill stood on his customary perch—a polished limb of acacia wood near the king's ear. His feathers, usually preened to a glossy blue-grey, were dull. His beak was shut. His eyes, usually darting—scanning the horizon for weather, for gossip, for trouble —were fixed on a point that did not exist.

"Zazu," Simba said, nudging the perch with his nose.

Zazu finally turned his whole body toward the young king. His eyes were wet and dark.