"Here you go, Richard, Dawn," she chirped, handing out the wraps she'd prepared in her space. "And Tommy, don't think I forgot you."
Tommy, the white rhino and a fully grown powerhouse, accepted his strawberry juice box with a bashful duck of his head. He was a mountain of a man, but under Felicity's gaze, he resembled the "big cub" she saw in him.
Halfway through the meal, the air shifted. It wasn't the ragged, rancid energy of a zombie or the clinical chill of a City of Light scout. It was something... gentler.
From behind a cluster of rusted, overturned cars about fifty meters down the road, a small group emerged. They moved slowly, hands raised in a universal sign of peace. At the lead was a young woman with a shock of white and grey hair, and the distinct, soft ears of a Ragdoll cat twitching atop her head.
