Page 40 of Beasts of Mine

You didn't specify that it had to be good, the leopard pointed out, his whiskers moving again while that familiar low amusement colored his voice.

I stared at him for a second before laughing.

“I'm beginning to regret teaching you sarcasm,” I told the leopard, shaking my head even though I suspected he'd known how to be sarcastic long before meeting me.

You didn't teach me anything, the leopard replied, sounding faintly offended as he raised his head a little higher.

“Sure, Cat,” I told him sweetly, deliberately emphasizing the nickname while his ears flattened so quickly that my smile widened.

The older capuchin's other comment returned before I could stop thinking about it. I watched the leopard for a moment as he relaxed again, his chin settling across his front paws while one ear remained turned toward me.

“Do you really wait for me?” I asked the leopard, my tone losing some of its teasing as I studied his face. His eyes opened at once, and his head came up slightly as his attention focused completely on me.

I'd surprised him.

Who told you that? the leopard asked, his voice noticeably more guarded while his tail, which had been resting loose against the ground, became still.

“That isn't a no,” I pointed out to the leopard, folding my empty sandwich wrapper before placing it back into my bag and looking at him over the open flap.

Which animal told you? the leopard asked, ignoring my observation while his gaze narrowed slightly.

“An older capuchin,” I told the leopard, pulling the zipper of my lunch pouch closed. “He said you wait here for me every day.”

The leopard turned his head toward the trees, one ear tipping backward while the rest of his body remained suspiciously still.

He talks too much, the leopard muttered, his irritation directed far more toward the absent capuchin than toward me.

My eyebrows rose as satisfaction began replacing my uncertainty.

“Oh, that's interesting. So you do,” I told the leopard, leaning forward slightly with my forearms resting against my knees. His gaze returned to mine, and for several seconds he seemed to weigh whatever answer he was considering.

I know when you usually arrive, the leopard finally explained, choosing each word with enough care to make me even more suspicious.

“That is waiting,” I told the leopard, smiling as the tip of his tail moved once across the ground.

That's knowing your routine, the leopard corrected, his voice taking on that patient quality he normally used when he thought I was being deliberately difficult.

“While sitting here until I show up,” I reminded the leopard, unable to stop the small burst of satisfaction his evasiveness gave me.

I'm usually here anyway, the leopard argued, shifting his weight against the roots while his ears began to angle backward.

“Waiting,” I repeated to the leopard, letting the single word hang between us as my smile grew.

Observing, the leopard insisted, irritation slipping more clearly into his voice while his tail gave another deliberate sweep through the leaves.

“Waiting,” I repeated again, watching his ears flatten completely this time and grinning despite my best effort to remain serious.

“Whatever makes you feel better, Cat,” I told the leopard, reaching for my camera while the low growl that followed contained no real threat whatsoever. We spent most of the next hour the way we'd spent nearly every afternoon that week. I showed him photographs from my morning while he pretended to have only a passing interest, although his eyes remained on the camera whenever I turned the screen toward him.

He seemed particularly interested in the frogs, pausing longer over those images while I explained where I'd found them. I showed him the young capuchin who had followed me down the trail and then the brown bird who continued criticizing my hair.

Eventually, I reached the toucan.

“That is the one who told me I should sleep near you again,” I told the leopard, angling the camera so he could see the photograph while I enlarged the image with my thumb.

He's an idiot, the leopard replied after studying the toucan for several seconds, one ear flicking backward as though he found the bird personally offensive.

“Finally, complete agreement,” I told the leopard, laughing as I pressed the button to move to the next photograph. A heavy flutter of wings interrupted me before another image could load, and leaves shook overhead as the scarlet macaw landed on a branch directly above us.