Her hand trembled around the knife, knowing that if he saw her now, she’d have no chance. The poacher stopped, his gaze sweeping the camp. Her heart raced with every second he lingered, his eyes passing just inches above her crouched form. “Nothing there,” he muttered to himself, turning away to rejoin his partner at the front of the camp.
Seizing the opportunity, Amara exhaled softly and moved quickly toward the tent where the baby elephant was tied. She slipped between the crates and tents, making herself as small as possible. Her mind spun, thinking through every movement, every potential noise.