The cub sniffed the air, hesitated, then padded forward on trembling legs. It drank, fast and messy, water spilling down its muzzle. When it was done, it looked up, eyes glinting gold in the sunlight and in that fragile silence between them, Catherine forgot every rule she’d ever taught.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Catherine whispered. Still, she didn’t close the door. Catherine stayed crouched by the open door longer than she should have, the warm air thick with the scent of dust and dry grass.