Theo and the Goodnight Roar

High on a quiet hill, where the long grass swayed like a sleepy sea, there lived a little lion cub named Theo.

Theo had round golden eyes, a tuft of fluffy fur on the tip of his tail, and the tiniest, softest roar you ever did hear.

Every evening, when the sun melted into the sky like warm honey, Mama Lion would call him into their cosy den. "Time for sleep, my little sunbeam," she would say.

But tonight… tonight was different.

Because tonight, Theo could hear something. A whisper. A shuffle. A funny little rustle in the dark.

He pulled his paws under his chin. He tucked his tail close. And he squeezed his eyes — very, very tight.

"I am NOT going to look," he whispered to himself. "Brave lions don't look at scary things… do they?"

Outside the den, the moon peeked in like a kind silver friend. It seemed to say, Theo… come and see.

But Theo just buried his nose deeper into his fluffy paws… and waited for morning.