Simba reached out a massive paw and placed it gently on the perch, steadying it.
Simba slid off the dais and padded closer. He'd seen that look before. In his own reflection, after his father fell. In Timon and Pumbaa, during the thunderstorm that nearly swept them over a waterfall. The old warthogs called it the "thousand-yard stare." It was the look of someone who had seen the other side of a very thin line.
"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." thousand yard stare zazu
Zazu looked at the darkness outside. "Is it."
Simba sat down, curling his tail around his paws. "Is it about Scar's reign? The hyenas?" Simba reached out a massive paw and placed
"Zazu," he said. "You're not his messenger anymore. You're mine."
"Yes, Sire," Zazu whispered. Then, a tiny, almost imperceptible crack in his voice. "The morning report for tomorrow: the water buffalo are calving early, the baobab near the eastern watering hole has blossomed out of season, and… and I believe I might sleep through the dawn for the first time in a decade." In his own reflection, after his father fell
A long silence. A cricket chirped somewhere in the grass below.