Just Imagine...

Soul Bond

"Beth," Gwen cut in gently as the young woman's voice rose with panic, "can you try to remember what happened when Zephyr growled at you?"
"Who's Zephyr?" Beth asked.
"That's my tiger's name," Sam answered, "honestly Beth, I don't think she wanted to hurt you, she might've just... sensed a bad vibe, or she didn't like the way you both walked up to me so quickly. She's very sensitive and protective of me because we've been best friends since I was like, five."

Sam's father had retrieved his shotgun from the attic. Sam had overheard him, her mother, and her abuelo talking about something with tense voices, and it seemed like her father was about to do something that her mother and abuelo didn't want him to.
Sam decided to follow him outside into the pasture with the horses, across the yard and into the garden.
Hiding behind an Island Rose bush, Sam peeked through the dense green leaves and pink flowers at her father.
He was standing next to a tall plant with big leaves that drooped low to the ground. Sam squinted. She could see a patch of something tawny colored underneath the foliage.
Sam's father moved one of the leaves aside, and Sam stifled a gasp.
Curled beneath the plant was a tiny, fluffy tiger cub, with strange scarlet stripes instead of black ones; wide, scared green eyes; and a cut on her left forepaw that was bleeding badly.
Sam's father loaded his shotgun.
"I'm sorry, little thing," he murmured, "this'll be over quick."
"PAPA, NO!" Sam screamed, leaping from the bushes and standing in front of her father with her arms spread.
"SAM!" Her father shouted, jerking the gun up and away from her head, "you can't put yourself in front of a gun, what were you thinking?!"
"You can't kill her!" Sam exclaimed, tears streaming down her face, "she's just a baby!"
"She's injured," Sam's father said sternly, "it's the kindest thing we can do."
"NO!" Sam protested, "Papa, please don't hurt her! PLEASE! I'll look after her!"
"Sam, you can't look after a tiger by yourself," her father sighed, "she's a wild animal, not a pet."
Sam didn't say anything, just stood between her father and the tiger cub with her arms still spread and a stubborn pout on her face.
"Leave her, Nick," Sam's mother said, pushing her way through the garden to her father's side, "she's not going to give in, you know that."
"Estela," Sam's father began.
"Nick, I said leave it," Sam's mother insisted, "there's no use killing such a young animal anyway."

"So... you really did that to save me?"
Sam looked up at Owen's voice to her right. The hub was dark now, pretty much everyone had gone home for the evening, and Sam had been sitting alone at her desk, staring off into space as Zephyr lay on the floor behind her chair.
"What?" She asked, "killing Copley?"
Owen nodded.
"Well... yeah," Sam said, "duh."
"You really cared so much you set your tiger loose on him?"
"Oh, I didn't set her loose. Zephyr has a mind of her own, she did what she did on her own accord. But, I think the two of us are connected on a level even we don't understand. She seems to know what I'm thinking and feeling without me expressing it, and sometimes she does things that I was about to do."
"Like save me? Jump in the line of fire?"
"Perhaps."
Sam grinned at Owen, and he smiled back - a genuine smile, which some might consider a rare sight. Zephyr padded around Sam's desk, nodding her head and chuffing as she paced up to Owen.
"Umm... thanks?" He tried as she looked at him with sparkling peridot eyes. "Can she understand me?"
"Dunno," Sam said with a shrug, "she might be able to, based on your body language and your tone. I think that's how most animals work, actually."

It was dark and rainy when Sam returned to the plant later that evening with a chicken leg and some gauze. The tiger cub hissed when Sam moved the leaf she was sheltering under.
"It's okay," Sam murmured, crouching down, "I promise I won't hurt you. You hungry?"
She offered the cub the scrap of soggy meat, which she sniffed curiously before backing away slightly, ears pinned back and eyes still filled with nervousness.
"You have to eat!" Sam exclaimed, "and if I'm gonna look after you, you need a name. How about Stripes?"
The cub let out a tiny growl.
"Can I bandage your leg?" Sam asked, "don't worry, my abuelo taught me how. He said I can take care of you if I can get you to come inside. Whaddya say?"
Sam held out her hand for the cub to sniff, then let out a shriek of pain as the cub scratched her. She leaped back out into the rain, the droplets of water quickly washing off the blood from the cuts on her arm. Sam quivered, trying not to cry and make the tiger cub think she'd hurt her. She put her hand over the cut.
"It's okay, Stripes," she said, "I know you're scared. I know you didn't mean it."