Catherine pointed toward the porch. The animal was still there, curled against the wall in a patch of shade. Its sides rose and fell in slow, shallow breaths. “Didn’t touch it?” the ranger asked. “I gave it water,” she admitted. “It was dehydrated.”
The ranger crouched beside the cub, inspecting it with practiced eyes. “You probably saved it, then. We’ve had a few orphan sightings this month. Could be one that wandered too far from the reserve.” Catherine sighed, “Will he survive?”