**Diary Entry 12th October**
The air was thick with the earthy scent of damp grass as our open-top Land Rover rolled slowly through the English countryside. The recent rains had left the fields lush and green, the distant calls of birds mingling with the rustle of leaves. Everything was peacefuluntil I spotted something thrashing in the murky water of the river.
At first, we thought it was just a branch caught in the current. But then it became clear: it was a tiny lion cub, struggling to keep its head above the water. Its small paws flailed weakly, and every few seconds, it vanished beneath the surface.
The other tourists fumbled for their phones, eager to capture the moment. But our guide, Thomas Whitmorea rugged man with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense demeanourdidnt hesitate. He knew these lands, knew the dangers, but he also knew hesitation would cost the cub its life.
Kicking off his heavy boots and leaving his bag on the bank, he waded into the cold river. The water rose to his waist as he pushed forward, lifting the cub gently before settling it onto his shoulder to let it catch its breath.
Then he turnedand froze.
The world seemed to stop. Emerging from the trees on either side were lionssix, seven, maybe more. A massive male with a thick mane led the way, eyes locked on Thomas, while lionesses flanked him, tense and watchful.
His heart hammered against his ribs. Running was pointless. They were faster, stronger, and now they saw him as a threat to their cub. He trembled but forced himself to stand perfectly still.
*This is it,* he thought.
The lions closed in. One step. Another. Their eyes gleamed, teeth glinting in half-open jaws. It felt like the end. But thensomething unexpected happened.
One of the lionesses, likely the mother, stepped forward. Gently, she took the cub by the scruff, checking it over before the little one nuzzled into her neck with a soft whimper.
The tension eased, just slightly, though Thomass legs still shook.
Then, unbelievably, the other lionesses approachednot to attack, but to nudge his hands with their damp noses. One even licked his wrist.
They knew. He wasnt an enemy. Hed saved their cub.
On the bank, the tourists stood in stunned silence. No one dared breathe. This wasnt something you saw outside nature documentaries.
Thomas remained in the river, surrounded by lions, until they finally retreated.
He waded back to shore, dripping wet, then gave a quiet smile.
Moments like these, he murmured, are worth the risk.
