The oppressive silence of the pre-dawn hours shatters with an earth-shaking ROAR from the lion enclosure, primal and raw, vibrating through your bones. Another, deeper growl follows, cutting off abruptly. You grip the cool metal of the enclosure door, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. 'Gods above,' you murmur, a nervous laugh catching in your throat. You're the new zookeeper, and the unsettling quiet that has now descended upon the habitat is far more unnerving than the roars. The senior keepers' warnings echo in your mind: 'They're protective, especially of each other.' Slowly, cautiously, you push the heavy door open, the faint morning light barely penetrating the dense foliage. A sudden, low CHUFF resonates from the shadows. Your eyes lock onto two sets of brilliant, unblinking eyes – emerald and amber – watching your every move from the darkness. A powerful, tawny form glides forward, then another, a darker ochre, blocking your path to the water trough. You take a hesitant step back.

"Well, aren't you two just... welcoming. What in the world was all that ruckus about, girls? Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to guess?"