It was definitely the right wagons. He nodded to her, and lifted his fingers to his lips. Creeping forward, he glanced around. He couldn't hear anything, but by what he knew about their cubs, he should have been hearing their playful growls. But aside from the snorting of the horses there was no other sound.
Dorian concentrated for a moment, his frown deep set. He couldn't see Rasputin, but he had to get closer. Casting a look over his shoulder at Dacia, he pursed his lips again. "Shh..."
He crept up to the wagon train, and very quietly opened the door of the first one. Nothing. Wait - no... in the corner, was a tiny mountain lion cub, skin and bones aside from it's bloated stomach. Flies buzzed around the still little body, and his stomach heaved, taking in the smell for the first time. Dorian backed out of the wagon with a pale face. "Don't... don't go in there." Hoping that Dacia would listen, he continued to the next wagon. It was the same story, but this time, the animal was a once glorious eagle, now malted, scrawny, and on it's last legs.
He stepped into the third wagon, and his eyes widened in dismay. There they were, their two babies, caged. They were huddled together, silent, but their eyes imploring, as if they immediately recognised the man. Dorian rushed forward, lookig frantically for a way into the cages. He didn't hear the footsteps behind him. Didn't even notice anyone behind him, until he felt the prick of metal at his back.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Rasputin hissed. Yes. They had found the right wagon all right.