Evidently there was a disturbing quality in the sound that Sabor heard-something that inspired a certain restlessness, if not actual apprehension-though she could not be sure as yet that it boded ill. It might be her great lord returning, but it did not sound like the movement of a lion, certainly not like a lion dragging a heavy kill. She glanced at her cub, breathing as she did so a plaintive whine. There was always the fear that some danger menaced him-this last of her little family-but she, Sabor the lioness, was there to defend him... FROM THE BOOKS.
