Daniel sighed, searching for the right words. He wanted to soothe his son’s worry, but he couldn’t ignore the hollow pit forming in his own chest. He forced a smile. “Tell you what—we’ll check again before we leave. Maybe by then he’ll be up, showing off like always.”
But when they circled back an hour later, King was still there. Motionless. His golden mane stirred only when the wind rippled through the enclosure. Noah’s voice was small but steady. “Dad…he’s not fine.”