They passed the otters first, already diving for breakfast, then the sleepy red pandas who curled like furry commas in the treetops. Lily scribbled notes in her little notebook, whispering as she walked. When they reached the fox enclosure, she slowed. One of the younger foxes trotted forward, tail flicking like a metronome. Lily crouched near the fence, whispering a soft hello.
Caleb smiled. “You talk to all of them like they understand,” he said, leading Lily. “They do,” she said confidently. “They just don’t always talk back.” Next to the foxes was the exhibit Lily always saved for last: the tigers. Even before they reached it, the air seemed to change. The path widened, the chatter of nearby families faded, and the faint earthy scent of straw and musk filled the air.