Noah pressed closer to the glass, heart pounding. “Dad…he knows her,” he whispered. Margaret crouched, keeping her movements measured. “It’s alright, King. I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you.” Her tone was calm, as if speaking to an old friend. The lion shifted, the taut aggression in his shoulders easing, if only slightly.
For a moment, the crowd held its breath. Hope surged. It was as if the years between them had dissolved, the bond resurfacing like an ember coaxed back to flame. King’s head lowered, his eyes fixed on her alone.