Lucy & the Tiger

            The fog settles thickly over the forest, misting Lucy in a heavy hug. She creeps through the complicated terrain, shrinking under fallen logs and through the scratchy thorned bushes that prick. Away, she goes. The complicated feelings that she can’t name bubble up and then calm down and bubble up again. The camp shrinks in size the farther she gets away until she can’t see it behind the undergrowth of foliage.

            She couldn’t say why she was upset. It wasn’t like they had treated her horribly under their care. Lucy received a meal to eat every morning and every night, and she had a reasonably safe space to eat. But the way they treated life was just so… upsetting. She doesn’t understand it.

            Life has no meaning and because it has no meaning, it should be miserable. That’s all they ever think. They don’t stop to nurse the flower they stepped on back to health, or the baby bird who climbed out of the nest too early. Where is the compassion that makes life worth living?

            Lucy can’t take it, so she runs away. The life she knew was too much horribleness. She doesn’t quite know what she’ll find out here, but she is sure that she can get by on the plants that her mother once pointed out to her. For warmth, she can huddle in between a tree and a close fern.

            Lucy walks for hours before she finds a nice tree with a moss-covered bed and a shady fern to cover her; she settles down, finding somehow that the moss feels softer than the cold ground in which she used to sleep. As she falls asleep, she misses the calls for her name, and the glowing lanterns flickering past as they call for a young girl who never wants to see them again.

            Lucy wakes up warm, almost too warm. The moss underneath her is still cool as it was when she first slept, but it feels like she is swaddled in one of the fur pelts at camp. The fur pelts at camp… Had she been caught? Lucy belts upright, or… well, as upright as she can with the weight on her lap.

            She stares at it, still as can be though her mind is still racing. Frozen, she reaches out. The tiger snores lightly just as her hand pets behind the tiger’s ears. The purring surprises her, though when Lucy remembers the old stray cat she used to pet, she laughs lightly. This big cat, although species apart, was just the same as a stray house pet. The girl gets more audacious, scratching a bit harder and even stroking the big cat’s fur.

            “Why are you here, Tiger?” she asks the feline. The tiger shifts, rolls over even until its face was tucked into Lucy’s stomach.

            “You are young, and this is a dangerous place. I wish not to leave you here,” the tiger purrs back.

            Lucy gapes down at the tiger. Had she understood her?

            The tiger snorts gently and pushes Lucy back into laying down, “Rest child. You are tired.”

            When Lucy wakes the second time, the tiger is gone. Had it been a dream? She pokes her head out from the little alcove that she had found safety in to find out quickly: this had not been a dream. Stepping out, the tiger had apparently stolen from the camp while everyone was out, to bring Lucy some food. The symbols on the bag remind her of the ones decorating the tents back at camp. She finds an assortment of fruits inside. The tiger prances around the little area she had taken shelter in for the night, showing off its speed. It wouldn’t take the tiger long to get anywhere in this forest.

            The girl approaches warily and the tiger huffs amusedly, beckoning her over. When it became clear that the tiger had intended the fruits for her, she chows down. Lucy licks her fingers clean. The tiger follows her down to a stream of fairly clean-looking water and observes her for a second, before drinking the water. The trees above them rustle lightly. Lucy thinks nothing of it, continuing to drink down water, but the tiger pauses, glaring upwards.

            The tiger’s tail flicks with purpose. At least, until something stick-like falls from the tree. Lucy flinches back as the tiger growls and she realizes─that is not a stick. Slithering on the ground, right into the water, is the biggest snake that Lucy has ever seen. The snake hisses defensively at the tiger who growls something fierce back. It feels like a conversation that she isn’t privy to. The branch under one of her shoes cracks, and she awkwardly laughs when the heads of both the animals swivel to her.

            “What do you think, Tiger?” Lucy directs at the feline, “What does Snake want?”

            “He says that he would like to tag along in our adventures,” the tiger huffs, “but I do not believe him.”

            Lucy frowns and thinks: What is so bad about the snake? She doesn’t know him too well, but maybe he could become a good friend just like Tiger was becoming.

            She invites him, “Let’s adventure together, Snake. Please join Tiger and me.”

            The snake smiles at Lucy’s invitation and humbly accepts, “There’s nothing more I’d love to do.”

            The journey begins that moment. Lucy, the tiger, and the snake head off in a random direction, climbing over big rocks, under fallen trees, and across different streams of water that they stop to drink at. Eventually, the three travelers come across a ravine. It wasn’t steep, or too deep, just a crevice that had some distance to it. The tiger approaches carefully, Lucy following suit. The snake slithers its way off her shoulder and into the tall grass. She carefully jumps over the crack, the tiger ready to catch her if she falls. Next, the snake slides over. The tiger finally crosses, but does not clear the crevice cleanly.

            Her paw gets caught in the tilted overhang of the edge and she trips ungracefully. The snake, delighted, pounces forward and viciously bites the tiger, wrapping around the leg of the mighty tiger. The tiger hangs onto the ledge, pulling herself up with impressive strength. Lucy shrieks in fear, stomping one foot on the snake, forcing it off the tiger. It hisses a laugh, slinking off into the tall grass, out of sight.

            Meanwhile, Lucy frets over the kind tiger.

            Sobbing, she manages to speak, “I’ll get you help; I’ll find you help!”

            The girl runs off in the direction she thinks the camp to be. She stumbles once, twice, many many times. She flies through all the plants she had been told not to touch because she wants the tiger to be okay. The thistles of thorny bushes scratch at her side, thin beads of blood forming on them. What feels like ages later is when she finally finds the clearing of the camp. Out of breath, she stumbles in, hoping to find the on-site medic. The tent flap is open when she gets there, and she finds the camp medic talking to the head of the camp. Relief spills out like a waterfall.

            “Medic! I need your help, please! Do you know how to take care of a─” Lucy gets cut off while being led into the tent by the Head.

            They sit her on a cot as she tries to get out her meaning, “Please, sir. The tiger needs help─ it was bitten by a snake. She’s a lovely tiger who needs help, please!”

            The medic and the Head give each other a long look before facing Lucy again. All the while, the medic tends to the various bleeding scratches Lucy gained on her journey, bandaging her wounds as needed.

            Very seriously, the Head asks Lucy, “Can you lead us there? We’ll see what we can do.”

            Suddenly full of energy after her exhausting run, she climbs off the cot, eager to get there right away. Behind her and out of sight, the Medic and the Head of the camp converse quietly, rustling through opened crates and the supplies inside them. She waits impatiently on the edge of the clearing, bouncing on her feet. She is utterly covered in bandages she knows will get torn up on the way back to the tiger.

            The head of the camp and the medic finally make their way to her after what feels like forever. They both have long rifles on their backs and medical supplies in hand. Lucy stares at them, a sinking feeling in her gut. She stutters,

            “We don’t—We don’t need the guns. We’re helping the tiger.”

            Despite her worry, the Head pats her on the shoulder, “We’re just bringing them along for protection. Y’never know what you’ll find in the woods.”

            The warning reminds Lucy of the snake she and the tiger had briefly journeyed with, the one who had betrayed them so easily. She agrees, and they go on their way. The walk to find Lucy’s tiger is long and hurried. The journey had taken her farther from the camp than she had realized. The men feel tense, and she doesn’t understand why. Past the thorned bushes and finally to the ravine, is her tiger. Still huddled into itself on the ground, curled around its hurt paw.

            “There she is,” Lucy gasps, “please help her!”

            But the two men do not approach.

            In fact, they say nothing to Lucy except for, “Step away from the tiger, Lucy.”

            Lucy pouts, she doesn’t want to. She voices her protests to the men, “She’s hurting.”

            The two men sigh before the medic steps forward. He shuffles her away to make space for him to work. He runs a hand through the tiger’s fur gently, admiring the pelt for what it is. He nods to the camp’s Head. The medic eases himself up before grabbing Lucy. Disoriented, she claws her way into a view over the medic’s shoulder, only to shriek at the loud bang that emits from the rifles that the two men had slung over their backs.

            Lucy’s breath feels short as her head becomes numb in her panic. The tiger’s beautiful pelt stains red in some places, nothing that can’t be washed off.

            “You promised! You promised!” She shrieks and heaves.

            The medic’s hold is too strong to break out of. It takes more than a couple of well-placed jabs to get him to release his grip on her. When Lucy makes contact with the ground, she hobbles to where the tiger lay, limp and increasingly chilled. Blood seeps out and soaks the girl. The two men leave her there with her tiger.

            Good, she thinks, filled with grief and a bitterness she has never felt before. She never wants to see them again anyway. A helplessness consumes her. What can she even do now? She’ll never ever go home, but the tiger protecting her is dead. She sits there a while, just to sob. Later, the two men must come and bring her back to the camp, when she has long since passed out due to her panic.

            She wakes up back at the camp, clutching a soft covering. The feeling is familiar and jolts her awake. As Lucy awakens, she finds a pelt of fur covering her, giving her warmth. Nice and clean, it lacks the blood she swears had soaked it just days before.