Hunted- Old and unedited!

One

Wow, this story is very old! I had nearly forgotten about it, but I found it! I thought it would be good to post it, because it is a good example of my writing as well as a topic I feel very strongly for!

I hope you enjoy! Oh, and A HUGE thanks to Luann Jung from Bookemon for the marvelous cover! Here is a link to her page! Please check her out! She is an incredible artist! :D

http://www.bookemon.com/member-home/luann-jung/160017

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The two tigers made no noise as they ran through the forest under the moonlight. Their breathing was all that could be heard from them. Quick ragged breaths, sweat encrusted fur and terrified eyes. Their filthy tangerine pelts glinted and shone as if made from a thousand diamonds. They didn’t know the forest and were struggling to navigate it. Hope was trickling further away with every passing second and with every second they came closer to exhaustion. They were brothers. Not in blood but in soul. They had both lost their parents to the fire sticks and the strange creatures that wielded them. The bigger of the pair was months older and he decided what had to happen. He slowed down and chuffed a quick good bye to his companion. To his brother.

Before the younger tiger could argue the brave tiger turned towards the fire sticks and ran letting out his incredible roar. His last roar.

Fighting back a desire to go and help, the small tiger continued to run. He came to a river after it seemed as if he’d run a million kilometres. He spared no time as he dived into the water and hid amongst the water reeds. His thoughts were dominated by one. A single thought that portrayed so much in just seven words. I cannot let him die in vain.

The men cried out in their strange tongues as they cheered his brother’s death. How can anything be happy about pointless pain and death? He reflected while hidden in the water. After only a few moments the men had passed and left him to grieve alone in the dark murkiness of the river. He slid out of the water and pulled himself through the sucking mud. He carefully searched the trees until he found an Indian oak with a hollowed out trunk. It seemed fit for an Indian oak to shelter an Indian tiger. He settled inside and realized with pain that he was alone and that no one was coming back for him. They were all gone. As the constricting darkness wrapped its tendrils around him he fell into a dreamless, restless sleep.

The cub was awoken by a beautiful sunrise. The horizon was filled with creams, carnations and peach, just to name a few of the colourful array. He couldn’t appreciate it though because he could only think about the night before. He was too confused. He couldn’t think straight. Many questions had arisen and were all left unanswered. Why would a creature kill and waste energy for no other reason than to kill? And why only certain types of animal? The tiger pondered all the questions always coming back to the same two. He could not come up with any answers. Perhaps, if he knew what money, poverty and greed were he might understand but those words were as alien to him as his views were to men.

He despaired for the better part of the day. He simply lay down and stared at his reflection in the water. The forest was strangely quiet. He gained his feet and let out a mournful roar full of melancholy, grief and majesty. He was answered by a single bird call of a blue whistling thrush. It was beautiful and solemn. The tiger strode backwards then turned towards the river, ran towards it and in a massive leap he cleared it. He landed on the other side and stumbled once before suddenly bounding off into the trees with grace and poise.