The predator stalks close to the woman falling asleep near her banjo and water jug. High in the luminous blue sky, the moon watches them. The lion gently approaches her body and breathes in her hair. A sweet perfume embalms his nostrils, calming his temper, reassuring his ardor.

As he  continues to explore the woman’s body, several mini-stars glimmer discreetly in the sky, granting the atmosphere malice and glee. The lion is less apprehensive now and, with the pride which inhabits his spirit, acts as if he had tamed the sleeping woman.

The moon, gazing, surveilling from afar, giggles at the thought of a lion believing it can have an impact on a human being, and even so when she is unconsciously dreaming. But the lion seems convinced and continues  sniffing the woman from head to toe. She does smell of vanilla. Even the cover she is resting her head on is infused with the exotic scent.
Without making a sound, placing his paws delicately next to her arms and legs, the lion finally sits next to the sleeping woman.

Suddenly he tilts his head up and stares into the sky: “I am guarding her from dangerous predators.”
The stars titter and the moon smiles benevolently in return.