When you're caught mid-sneak but play it cool.

The wallaby froze as our eyes met, a momentary standoff that felt more like an unspoken agreement. Its fur caught the sunlight in subtle streaks of brown and gray, perfectly camouflaged against the scattered twigs and dry leaves. There was a quiet dignity in its posture—alert but unhurried—as though it had rehearsed this encounter countless times before. I wondered what it saw in me: a towering stranger with clumsy footsteps or just another fleeting presence in a life dictated by instinct. The branches around us creaked softly in the breeze, punctuating the silence with nature’s own rhythm. For a creature so small, it seemed to possess an outsized awareness of its existence.