“Hurry, we’re losing her!”

Byulyi ran as fast as she could, nearly stumbling in Yongsun’s death grip. Pulled in all directions, her head spun—she gave up. Her body could only be described as a languid rubber band as it flew behind Yongsun.

Yongsun dove through the crowds, dodging crying infants and rampant schoolchildren left and right, her eyes solely focussed on the yellow dot zipping through the sea of legs. “Wheein!” she cried.

They’d been running for twenty minutes when they finally scrambled to a stop. Byulyi bent over, hands on her knees, an empty purple leash wrapped loosely around her wrist. She could faintly hear Yongsun swear over the din of her beating heart in her ears.

“We lost her,” she said angrily. She said it again in frustration, again in disappointment, then a final time in sorrow.

Her arms felt like limp noodles, but Byulyi pulled herself up and wrapped herself around Yongsun. Yongsun sniffled into her shirt. “Don’t cry, silly yeba. She’s going to get tired soon.”

They didn’t wander far when Byulyi pointed, dragging Yongsun by the hand as she followed her finger like a magnet. “There! There!” she cried, shaking the towering fence with her free hand.

“Oh no,” Yongsun breathed.

Their yellow Jindo puppy, all fluff and no fear, had found her way into the lion’s den.

“Yongddonie…what do we do?” Byulyi whispered.

The lions were sleeping, and their puppy stood before them, head tilted.

Byulyi was afraid to breathe, in case a single puff of air could wake the lions up. She relaxed a little when she felt Yongsun tuck her hand between her mittens, though her eyes were wide with worry.

“Wheein-ah, why are you like this?” she heard Yongsun murmur, eyes beginning to glisten as she watched their pup.

The wind rustled. People were beginning to slow down around them, curious to see the yellow dog on display inside the enclosure. “How did it get in there?” they heard people whisper. Questions built on the excitement, and it became a sea of voices.

A four-year-old tugged at his mother’s leg. She lifted him up, giving him a better view. With one hand pawing at his mother’s face, and the other excitedly pointing at the enclosure, he exclaimed, “Umma, umma! Is that a puppy?”

She sighed. “It can’t be a puppy, honey. Maybe it’s a baby lion?”

Then, the inevitable happened.

Their stupid, stupid, adorable puppy barked. It was like she just wanted to prove the woman wrong.

She trotted up to the sleeping lions and barked like an animatronic stuffed animal—three times. Several lionesses awoke, lifting their heads to watch the intruder. Everyone held their breaths. The oblivious yellow cotton ball wagged her tail.

People were clamouring now, drawn to the barks like moths to a flame. Kindly strangers comforted the white-faced lovers.

The puppy barked happily once more.

Yongsun and Byulyi grasped the fence with sweaty palms, still too afraid to breathe. They wanted to call out, but the puppy would definitely get excited. Neither could see an entrance or an exit to the enclosure.

But the lions did not seem to care for the little dog. Except one.

A cub with a fluffed up collar stood by her mother, two metres away from Wheein, watching steadily with piercing eyes. Her tail swished back and forth.

The puppy panted excitedly at the newfound attention. She took a step forward. The lion cub did not move. A few more steps.

Byulyi flinched as she felt Yongsun's nails dig deeper into her arm.

The lion club sauntered forward with a predator's gait. Much to her moms' dismay, Wheein took the slight interest as a vow of friendship, and bounded forward to meet the lion cub halfway.

The cub, though no older than five months, towered over the Jindo puppy. Wheein ran around in circles around her new friend, barking every few cycles. When she finally stopped, panting happily, the lion lowered her head and sniffed her tentatively.

Wheein sniffed her back.

"What is happening?" Yongsun whispered.

"I think," Byulyi replied, mirroring Yongsun's confusion, "Wheein is…making a new friend?"

All of a sudden, Byulyi felt a rough tug on her arm. “Byul! Byul! Green shirt!” Yongsun whispered loudly, slapping her arm with each tug. Byulyi’s head spun. “Green shirt!” Yongsun continued to whine.

“What are you talking about, unnie?” Yongsun jabbed her finger in the air toward a man with a green shirt and a baseball cap. He had a towel half-tucked into the collar of his shirt, and was watching the puppy, a cigarette burning out in his gloved hand.

Byulyi finally nodded, and, prying Yongsun off her arm, went up to speak with the staff member. Her voice came out in quakes and waves.

But he didn’t seem fazed, even when Byulyi began to throw her arms in the air and make erratic gestures toward their beloved puppy. He eyed her with disinterest, and took a good, long puff of his cigarette. “Hwasa is a good kid. Your pup will be fine.”

“Yes, but can you get someone to get her out?” It was Yongsun who stepped up, glaring up at the man with her cheeks puffed out. It wasn’t a question. She meant business, and she wanted him to know it.

The man sighed, dropped his cigarette, crushed it with the toe of his boot, and strolled off to find a zookeeper.

Byulyi pulled Yongsun in by the shoulder, and gave her a long, comforting kiss on the top of her head.

When the couple turned their attention back to the scene, the lion, whom the man referred to as Hwasa, had lost interest, and had fallen to her side, stretching like a house cat. She bared her teeth to the sky—they swallowed nervously at the sight of her fangs—in an innocent yawn.

The puppy nudged her paw with her head, prompting an unamused look. But Wheein did not relent. She nudged a little more.

"Oh no," Byulyi whispered.

The cub raised her paw and, still on her side, gave a half-hearted attempt to swat the puppy away. Wheein jumped back in surprise.

"C'mon, girl, take a hint," Byulyi said to no one in particular.

Yongsun chuckled. "She gets it from you, I swear."

Byulyi smiled for the first time since their puppy escaped her leash. "Worked, didn't it?"

Wheein tried again, this time gently sniffing the cub. When the lion did not react, the puppy sat down on her hind legs, her tail wagging frantically.

Seeing her reclining friend, it didn’t take long for Wheein to realize that she had been running on spare batteries. The excitement of the day had finally won out as her eyes began to slowly open and close. The cub slept soundly on her side, and did not stir, not even when Wheein nudged her several more times while seeking a comfortable position beside her.

The puppy laid her head on her front paws, curling herself against the lion cub's belly.

When the zookeeper finally showed up, the puppy was soundly asleep between the lion's broad paws. 

END

Author's Note: Thank you so much for indulging in this little story. I really wanted to write something light and fluffy after working on Beyond the Sea. As always, I am grateful for all of my readers.