My tiger’s coat shone as I neared him. He did not seem to mind how close I came, merely staring with round, wet eyes. I was in a dream to be with my tiger, and then the surrounding darkness flooded in and I sank, powerless, back into the deep of the forest. I gazed at the dampness of his bloodied coat and, drawing nearer, saw his back streamed wet with blood. My tiger’s wounds were raw and deep, he had been set upon by dogs.
Few dogs will turn on a tiger, even when in packs. Dogs must be trained for such a task, like my father’s.
“Has he found you?” I said.
My tiger’s breath came white against the darkness as he raked his claws impatiently in the fallen bark of the forest floor. The moonlight showed dark blood-patches on his coat for a moment, before he took off running. I followed thro
