“Sorr-ee!” Biscuit intoned. I gaped at the bird in shock. “Don’t you use that tone of voice with him!” For some reason, my mother’s mouth pressed into a thin line, as though she were desperately trying to hold back a laugh. Zayn and I exchanged a long, haunted look before he silently took my hand in his and led all of us to the narrow, matted game trail that ran a few yards away from the edge of the cliffs.
