Rex moved again. This time, his head turned sharply toward the church entrance. His body followed, angling slightly away from the aisle as if drawn by something near the entrance. Lucy stopped walking altogether, her hand tightening on the leash. “What is it?” she whispered.
Rex’s tail was rigid now. Not raised. Not tucked. Just still. Lucy knelt briefly beside him, resting a calming hand against his shoulder. His fur felt tight beneath her fingers, his breathing shallow and controlled. Not panicked. Focused.