Maya stepped closer, holding the rabbit ahead like a fragile truce. She gave it a gentle shake, its floppy ears swinging. The dog barked wildly at first, jerking against the harness—but then its eyes locked on the toy. It didn’t stop barking, but it stopped thrashing. It was watching.
Keeping her voice low, Maya inched forward and angled to the dog’s right. Close enough to reach the harness with the rake, but still just out of striking range. Her breath was tight in her chest. She gripped the rake in one hand, the toy in the other—then threw.