During feeding, Zachary noticed the change the most. Meat deliveries once meant playful bouncing, but now low growls rumbled in their throats. Daisy pushed her muzzle in anyway, nudging them aside, claiming her right to feed first. Miraculously, they yielded. Staff behind glass grew alarmed—how long would it take for instinct to shatter this illusion?
Visitors saw only charm. Children laughed when the cubs chased Daisy’s tail, their stripes blurring into flames. Parents cooed about family bonds transcending species. But Zachary noticed the flashes of feral instinct: claws digging deeper, and bites lingering longer. He forced smiles at visitors, even as dread pooled in his stomach.