Page 39 of Tiger's Tale
She watched them until she could scent them no more and then turned back to the cave opening. Her young man stood there, squinting in the darkness, knife still pointed out. His hand slightly shook. When she entered the circle of firelight, she paused, looking up at him across the fire. It was then that she realized her fur still bristled, and the rumbling sound still emanated from her chest.
Making oneself as puffy and large as possible was definitely something that felt unnatural for Veru, especially around men. So, she reverted to her normal way of doing things, shook her whole body as if she was ruffling her skirts, and then, as demurely as one could when one was a tiger and not a lady, she sat, attempting to bat her eyes, which only served to irritate her, so she stopped and flicked her tail back and forth instead in what she presumed looked like a friendly sort of way.
“I... I wondered if that was you,” he said. “Part of me hoped it was. Then I also hoped it wasn’t. I’ll understand if that doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make much sense to me.”
Veru thought that about summed up how she felt too. He hadn’t yet dropped his hand with the knife, so it was obvious to her that he was still frightened. She supposed he should be. Veru was a dangerous animal, after all. She’d probably be scared, too, if she were him. To put him more at ease, she slumped down, placing her back to the fire so she could guard the opening to the cave. That gesture seemed to do the trick.
She could hear him finally move from his position. His normal footfalls were awkward, staggered. He limped over to his pack. “Are you hungry? I don’t have much left. But I expect you deserve something for saving my life.”
He tossed her a raw hunk of meat. Veru licked it and then swallowed it whole.
“Here’s to hoping that was enough for now, little lapa. Speaking of which, it appears to me as if your paw has healed while mine is now injured. How’s that for justice?”
Settling himself down on the other side of the fire, he pulled off his thick boots and examined his foot. Veru lifted her head to look at the damage. She could see his ankle was swollen with a purple bruise on the side.
“Looks like a bad sprain,” he said. “Best to leave the boot on, else it will continue to swell. I don’t believe it’s broken though.” As he pulled his boot back on, he winced, but smiled at her. “Too bad I don’t heal as easily as you, eh?”
Veru snorted and put her head back on her paws, closing her eyes.
“I don’t have any water, but there’s a nice fast river not too far from here,” he said. “I’ll head over there in the morning. Might take me a while. I’ll have to carve you a new bowl, but if you’re patient...” He yawned and closed his eyes. “It’s the strangest thing. I should be more frightened of you than the wolves, but I’m not... I’m very relaxed.” His words were becoming more drawn out, like he was having trouble forming them. “It’s just that I’m so tired,” he said. “I...” then Veru heard a soft, musical snore.
She found she rather liked it. Within a minute, she was asleep too.
* * *
The next morning, she was awake before the sun. Her young man snored loudly in his little cave. She thought his staccato snore was probably what woke her. The coals from the fire were still warm but they wouldn’t be for long. Veru managed to use her paw to maneuver some sticks of kindling that had been laid aside on top of the coals.
Once they caught, she opened her jaws wide and wrestled some larger logs onto the fire. The wood sunk heavily into the old coals and smoked for a while before catching, the flames eating the old mosses first before starting on the bark. After they were merrily crackling, she headed off through the fresh snow to look for the river the hunter had described.
It didn’t take her long to find it. Her nose seemed to catch the scent of fresh water on the air. It was a crisp smell, a bit ticklish. She could almost taste it on the back of her tongue. After drinking deeply, she caught herself four fish, which took her the better part of an hour, and made quick work of devouring them, then batted two more to shore.
Unfortunately, one of them wriggled its way back into the river and disappeared, but then she managed to catch a much larger fish, so she didn’t mind. Though she tried to be gentle with them, they were still pretty badly mangled by the time she got them back to the cave.
When she dropped them with a thump by the fire, she apparently startled the hunter, who was intently carving a bowl from a large piece of bark. He dropped his knife.
“You scared me, little kotenok,” he said, picking up his knife. “I thought you left me.” Shifting, he grabbed one of his walking sticks and got awkwardly to his feet. “What’s this?” He stopped dead when he saw the two large fish lying there in the snow. “Well, I see you found the river. I’ll assume you drank, then.”
He sighed. “At least one of us will have breakfast this morning. I’ll have to make do with sbiten. I don’t think I’ll be able to head up there today. Despite wearing my boot, my ankle swelled up pretty bad during the night. I’ll pack it in snow for a while and see if that helps.”
The hunter shifted, taking a step back inside the cave but heard movement outside and turned just in time to see the golden tiger nudging the fish toward him with her nose. She then walked several steps away and sat down. “Are you”—he gestured to her and to the fish—“did you just...” His words trailed off, and then he laughed. “I must be seeing things. Perhaps you’re full, then? Very well. Spasibo. How about I cook them up and share them with you, eh?”
Veru snuffed but remained in place, laying down with her head on her paws. The young hunter hobbled over, cleaned the fish, leaving the guts on the snow for her, and placed it whole right on top of the hot coals. It smelled good to Veru as it cooked, but it was interesting that the raw food smelled just as good if not better.
Standing up, she wandered over to the cave, slowly enough so as not to scare him, and then laid down again, scooping up the fish innards. Then she began licking her paws. After which she rolled on her side and napped lazily as he finished cooking his meal. Veru felt happy hearing him make appreciative little noises as he ate and licked the hot juices from his fingers. It was nice to see a man salivate over the food she’d caught for him instead of her body for a change.
When he was sated, with a full cup of tea at his side, he tossed her half a fish, which she quickly polished off, then he sat with his back against the wall of the cave and pulled out the strange pipe he’d been playing the night before, just before the wolves attacked. After blowing a few practice notes, he teased her, asking if she had any requests.
“No? Then I suppose I’ll just play you something I’ve been tinkering with lately.” He started, then suddenly stopped, lowering his instrument. “It occurs to me that we haven’t been properly introduced. My name’s Danik. Ohchen priyatna. But then we’ve met before, haven’t we? It’s too bad you can’t tell me your name.”
Lifting the zhaleika to his lips, he began playing, and Veru didn’t realize she’d started purring again until his song ended, and he laughed, pointing it out. In the late afternoon, she drank at the river again and hunted fish, which, as it turned out, were ridiculously easy for her to catch. Again she returned with two large fish for Danik. He seemed to accept the idea that a tiger was hunting for him rather easily, all things considered.
After three days in the cave, he was ready to emerge and continue on his journey, claiming that his ankle was strong enough now to forge ahead. He said an awkward sort of das vedanya and began walking in a northeasterly direction. For a time, Veru just stood there at the cave entrance, not knowing what to do, exactly. Should she continue to follow him?
It was clear now that their paths were beginning to diverge. Yet she knew he was still vulnerable. He moved slowly in the snow, using snowshoes now instead of skis. Before he went too far, disappearing over a hilltop, she’d made her decision. Bounding after him, she followed, not exactly in an obvious way; she didn’t walk out in the open as he did but stayed out of sight in the tree line. And she didn’t follow too closely either.
Around noon, he figured out she was there. He must have caught a flash of her in the trees. “I see you, little paw,” he called out. “You need to be careful in the trees. That’s where hunters like me place their traps. I’m going to head in soon to check on one. It would be better if you stayed a bit closer if you’re intending to follow.”
Veru didn’t know what to do. If she growled or roared in response, she might frighten him. Wishing she could speak, she blew a sharp breath of air from her nostrils while nodding her head and emerged from the trees slowly. The sound she made reminded her of her sister’s sarcastic snort or derisive laugh. Again, it was very unladylike, but it seemed to put Danik at ease. He drew closer, and after he dipped into the forest for a time, emerging with a fresh fur and meat—some of which he wrapped in oil paper and placed in his pack, the rest of which he tossed to her—he began whistling, and walked beside her.
