From then on, no one dared approach. Keepers resorted to throwing meat from a safe distance, arms jerking as though tossing stones into a pond. Noah watched with his heart pounding, whispering under his breath, “Please eat it, King. Please.” Every time the meat landed just close enough, the lion dipped his head and ate, but never—never—shifted from the corner.
Days passed, and still he stayed there. It was then, in the haze of worry, that Noah noticed something odd. Pressed against the glass, eyes wide, he pointed. “Dad…look at his stomach. It looks weird. Like there’s a big lump in it.”