Dust powdered the streets as the wind came up and the yellow flatstone buildings turned flinty grey in the reddening light. All around the magpies cawed and took a last chance to dig for grubs and grasshoppers.
I tethered the grey, leaving my tiger’s cub sleeping within a hollow trunk. I gave the cub my coat to keep him warm and he had his sister’s scent with him in my absence. I did not want to leave him but I had to keep a cold glint in each eye I placed on the cub. He was no dog pup but a beast of the wild, and my aim was to keep him that way.
Some warmth held in the day’s remaining hours and the air turned syrupy. Hobart’s wide streets looked pleasant and the people I crossed were keen to salute me, but I kept my expression motionless all the way to the Beaumaris Zoo. It did not take
