Tobin trotted beside the gentle bull toward the watering hole. Dust glittered on the savanna grass.
A slick jackal slipped between two stones. "That bull steals food when no one's watching," it whispered. Tobin stopped dead.
Tobin marched up to the bull and pointed at the ground. "Don't come near me," he growled. The bull's ears drooped.
Tobin dug a deep trench alone and sat with his back to the world. Above him, the jackal giggled from an acacia branch.
An elderly elephant with large floppy ears lowered her head until she was eye to eye with Tobin. "Little one," she rumbled, "I saw what the bull did for you."
Tobin looked down at his scuffed claws. He thought of all the times the bull had stood close without asking for anything.
He shook his mane and ran toward the far side of the clearing.
He reached the bull and nudged his shoulder with his nose. The bull blinked slowly and exhaled.