Ruthburt sauntered over to the back of his cage and plopped down in a yellow patch of sun he found there. Watching Georgia walking away, he wondered if she would bring him another steak. If she didn’t, he could always sink his teeth into the ringmaster, although Ruthburt suspected he wouldn’t taste very good.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” said a voice. Ruthburt looked toward the gate and met the eyes of the man standing there. The lion just looked at the man, a menacing growl low in his throat.
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Ruthburt snorted as he tried to resist giving the scar on his flank a good scratch. A gift from his “old friend”.
The lion and the man glared at each other. Their shared history filling the space between them, thickening the air. Not even a shrill blast from a horn somewhere near them interrupted their concentration.
“Who are you?” Georgia said into the tense silence that enveloped man and beast.
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