Leo was curled at the edge of the savanna when a tiny chirp drifted from the dark thicket. He froze. Another chirp came — smaller, shaky, and definitely lost.
Leo crept toward the thicket and stopped at the shadowy edge. A little bird was tangled in a vine, wings fluttering against dark roots. "Don't worry," he thought.
Leo reached a paw out, then pulled it back when a branch creaked overhead. He took a breath and stepped forward. The dark welcomed him in.
His claws clicked on stones. His tail brushed leaves. The chirping grew louder until — pop! The vine sprang loose.
The vine sprang loose and the bird tumbled into Leo's paws. "Got you," he whispered.
Leo marched toward the last sliver of moonlight. Branches swatted at his mane, but he didn't stop. The bird nestled deeper into his fur.
The bird let out a soft, sleepy chirp and closed its eyes. Leo kept walking, step by steady step, until the trees finally opened up.
Leo reached the golden grass and laid the bird gently into its nest beneath a low acacia branch. The nest waited quietly, woven from dried grass.
The mother bird landed with a happy flutter and nuzzled Leo's nose. "Thank you," she seemed to chirp.
Leo curled up beside the nest, watching the mother bird fluff her feathers and settle her baby. The grass glowed gold under the rising moon.
For the first time, the dark didn't feel so big. It was just trees, and grass, and a saved bird going home.
The savanna breathed around him. The thicket was still dark, but Leo wasn't afraid. He had been brave, and that was enough.