Let us help now.” Ben had been waiting, crouched just out of sight. Margaret gave him the slightest nod. With King’s gaze fixed on her, Ben slid carefully along the enclosure’s edge, every step deliberate, the air thick with tension. One wrong move and it would all unravel. When he reached the corner, the small creature stirred again, letting out a faint, broken sound.
King’s head twitched toward it, a low rumble rising in his chest, but Margaret’s voice cut through, sharp yet soothing. “Eyes on me, boy. Stay with me.” Ben knelt, hands trembling as he scooped the frail body into his arms. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to freeze. Then King’s head snapped toward him, teeth bared—but Margaret stepped forward, her voice firm as steel.