His movements were as slow and deliberate as a slow-motion film, entirely devoid of any sudden jerks.
Stopping about half a meter away from the pangolin, he reached out. Rather than directly touching its injured flank or any area that might trigger a defensive response, he gently placed his hand on the relatively intact scales near its back.
"Don't be afraid," Yang Qi said softly, his palm warm and dry.
The pangolin's body trembled violently again, but this time, it didn't try to attack or curl up tighter.
"Alright, it's okay now. Let's get you up," Yang Qi muttered.
He carefully positioned his hands, using one to support the underside of the pangolin's chest and abdomen while avoiding the wound, and the other to gently cup its hindquarters. With a steady grip, he lifted the small beast, which weighed roughly ten pounds.
