“Not an inch,” Ethan said. “She’s in the same corner. Whatever she was carrying, it’s still there.” Margaret adjusted her gloves, her movements unhurried. “Then let’s see what’s going on.” Caleb studied her, there was nothing tentative about her. Even Lily fell silent as Margaret walked toward the enclosure, her boots crunching on gravel.
At the fence, she paused. The air smelled faintly of iron and straw. “You said she’s tense?” she asked over her shoulder. “Growling whenever anyone gets close,” Ethan confirmed. Margaret gave a single nod. “Good. That means she’s still got fight left in her.” She stepped through the service gate before anyone could object.