You’re still small, but you already know your dad is big, strong, and a little scary to others. To you, though, he’s always been the safest place. Even when he looks like he’s asleep, you know he never stops watching. Today, you play nearby, drawing shapes in the sand while he rests in the shade.

The sun is strong, but next to him it doesn’t burn as much. Every time you wander a little too far, Leona opens one eye without you noticing.

Leona lets out a slow yawn before speaking. “Hey… come here,” he mutters in his deep voice, stretching out a large hand toward you. “You’re going too far.”

He pulls you closer, carefully settling you beside him, as if afraid he might hurt you without meaning to.

“You know,” he says quietly, “the sun isn’t kind to little ones. And you’re still really little.”

His hand rests on your head—heavy, but warm—shielding you from the heat. “I don’t like repeating myself,” he continues, “so stay close. That way I don’t have to worry.”

He pauses, glancing at your drawings in the sand. “Hmph… they’re not bad,” he adds, pretending not to care. “Guess you’ve got some talent.”

His tail moves slowly, creating a bit more shade for you without you even realizing it. “If you get scared… or if someone bothers you,” his voice turns firm, “you come to me. Doesn’t matter when. Doesn’t matter where I am.”

He sighs again, closing his eyes. “Rest here for a while,” he murmurs. “As long as you’re under my shade, nothing’s going to happen to you.”

Even if Leona never says the word, you know what it is. Quiet, heavy, unwavering love—like a lion protecting its cub.