Ratel

I was sitting in a tree, trying to process the events of the day, when the ratel approached, digging his claws into the bark.

"Good evening," I greeted.

He grinned in that insolent manner all ratels have. "I'm about to ruin your whole day."

"How's that?" I demanded.

The ratel continued to grin. "There's an invader in the kingdom. Look in that tree that humans call leadwood. The one by the marula grove."

I flew to the tree, still keeping an eye on the ratel. However, he ignored me and began foraging in the dirt.

"Zazu?"

I turned to see the familiar face of a hornbill I knew all too well. "Lesedi." I cleared my throat. "How have you been?"

She shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"Simply trying to make conversation."

Lesedi gave a nod of acknowledgement. Her orange bill seemed to glow in the golden light of the setting sun, and her dark blue feathers made me think of the coming night.

"Did you ever take a mate?" I queried.

She sighed. "With all the raptors and adders, it seems pointless, doesn't it?"

"Indeed."

"And you?"

"Married to my work."

"Of course."

Shortly after his coronation, King Mufasa had arranged a marriage for me, that my descendants would serve his for as long as the dynasty endured. He invited Lesedi to Pride Rock, and the business aspects of the betrothal were discussed, but it wasn't to be. Every time Lesedi and I set a date for our wedding, there would be a horrible crisis that would postpone the event.

There was one day I was certain my fate was sealed. Rafiki consulted the stars and set a favorable date. The kingdom seemed to be at peace, flourishing under Mufasa's reign.

The night before I was to become a married bird, Queen Sarabi announced that the royal son or daughter would arrive at any moment. Naturally, my wedding was postponed, for it would be unfitting for any event to compete with the arrival of the king's firstborn.

Mufasa was then too occupied raising his prince to consider my matrimony. Of course, I didn't mind in the least. After all, Lesedi and I barely knew each other. We had met a few times, but never for long, and we never discussed anything other than business matters.

"Did you ever love?" Her voice interrupted my thoughts.

I frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"There are so many reasons to take a mate," Lesedi answered. "To uphold one's status, to have a helpmate finding food, to bear offspring…" She sighed. "I think that's why I never married. We hornbills aren't like the other residents of the Pride Lands. If we're dissatisfied with a mate, we can't end our partnership after a few days, or even after one season. When we take a mate, it's for life. It would be easier to have a mate for life if you were in love with your mate, no?"

"Love complicates matters," I stated. "Think of the cheetahs. They've utterly abandoned their role in the Circle of Life because they claim to be in love with each other! Male cheetahs are supposed to leave their females after a few days, and most of the cubs die, but Bujune and Masozi…" I cringed.

"Or maybe they vex you so greatly because you're incapable of the emotions they feel."

I changed the subject. "You've never loved then?"

"Never had reason to."

We sat in silence for several long moments. I knew I should be returning home before night fell over the savanna, but I hadn't seen Lesedi for years, and it seemed wrong to end our conversation abruptly. We may have been little more than strangers, but we could still be amicable.

"It's for the best," she stated. "You could never tear yourself away from duties of state long enough to bring me food while I sat on the nest, and I could never be content with a mate I did not love, no matter how noble his status."

"Our freedom comes with a price," I answered. "We hornbills can live over four decades. A lion is blessed to see one…unless he's in captivity, but that's a different matter. We watch kings rise and fall like the sun, but we remain. Our friends of other species succumb to old age, but we remain to see their children and grandchildren perish as well."

"And now is a bad time to be born. Africa has changed more in the last fifty years than it has in the last thousand. The world we knew, the world our parents prepared us for, is disappearing at an alarming rate. Others live only a few years, but we survive long enough to see the world we inhabit become less and less like the world we once knew."

"What's the ideal age to die?" I wondered aloud. "Too short, and life seems meaningless. Too long, and we outlive our time."

Lesedi sighed. "Apparently, the ideal age to die is after one's offspring have produced their own future generations, but if one never has offspring, who knows?"

With that, she flew away, leaving me to wonder if there was truly a purpose beneath my noble status.

Meanwhile, the ratel was happily scarfing down a springhare. Blood dripped down his savage jowls as he grinned.

"Have a nice visit, Zazu?" the ratel taunted. "Questioning your pointless existence again? Must be tough when you don't even know if you like your job!"

"Now see here!" I began.

"What are you going to do?" he interrupted. "Tell the king? You know there are very few animals foolish enough to anger me, don't you?"

There are days when I think I actually abhor ratels even more than I despise hyenas.