Anxious Whispers
The vehicle was filled with nervous voices discussing Jake’s intentions in low whispers. Is he insane? Someone inquired. “He ought to return here!” “Another insisted.” Jake, however, had a laser-like focus and wasn’t listening. We all struggled with it in different ways, but there was a noticeable mixture of amazement and anxiety. While some were cheering him on, others were quietly pleading with him to come back. His valiant quest was set against the backdrop of our voices.
Anxious Whispers
Jake Presses On
Jake listened to the lioness’s need despite our disorganized cries. For now, his objective was all that counted. “I’ve got you,” Jake said, focusing on the lioness’ protruding abdomen. We watched him work, the tension thick enough to sever with a knife. Even though we were afraid about him, his bravery was infectious and helped to calm us down a bit. “This guy is incredible,” someone said, the words tinged with both awe and incredulity.
Jake Presses On
