Seeing the door of an empty cage open, and that it was approached by a broad runway, she flew to it, entered and slammed the door and held it.

The cat, now hot with the lust to kill, threw himself against the bars, snarling and spitting.
Kathlyn called out to him sharply, and fearlessly approached him.

She began talking in a monotone.

His ears went flat against his head, but he submitted to her touch because invariably it soothed him, and because he sensed some undefinable power whenever his gaze met hers.
She snapped the leash on his collar just as her father came running up, pale and disturbed.

He ran to the door and opened it.
"Winnie, you poor little kitten," he said, taking her in his arms, "how many times have I told you never to take that dog about when Kit's leopard is off the leash ?" "I didn't think," she sobbed.
"No.