Maid for Him
She stepped back—but it only stared at her, as though sizing her up.
It crouched for a moment, tail low. Her breath caught—was it going to leap? Then, without warning, it turned. Slowly, powerfully, it slinked back into the dense brush it had come from—its territory.
Amber’s legs were weak, but her heart was stronger.
“Thank you,” she whispered—not to the lion, but to the bird, now flying away, it's call echoing faintly through the trees.
She looked back once more toward where the birds had been. The vibrant blue feathers. The fiery red patches. The golden feet.
Bab Populer