The tiger glared
intensely at the night sky. The guilt inside him burned deeply
through his soul. His cubs, whom he had raised so carefully and
protectively were gone. His cubs, whom were his pride and
meaning, his whole life.
The tiger could see his
children playing in front of him, in the open, innocent and still
weak. Then and there he had vowed to make them strong so they
could fight against the evils of hunters. Yet he had vowed too
late. His cubs were not strong enough. They were too frail, too
soft. And he was too late. Too late to save them.
All these thoughts caused
his heart to wound all the more. They had come so quickly, the
hunters. So eagerly... as if excited about taking lives.
He took his sore eyes from the jungle sky and closed them. When
his eyes were closed he was alone with his prides, his joys. He
once again saw his cubs playing paw. They gently hit each other
in between tumbles and jesting growls.
He raced blindly through
the enormous trees that shaded the moon's light and darkened the
atmosphere. It was silent, the only sound the gentle padding of
the tiger's giant paws. He found his mate, and laid close to her.
He had failed this time, lost his pride. He would try again soon.
His mate purred silently as she slept. They would be more
protective next time.
Another shade of darkness
grew upon the night. He would not forget, even if he wanted to,
or tried. He had learned this day, learned something he would
regret and feel great remorse for every day of his life. As the
great tiger allowed his eyes to descend, he learned the extreme
danger. The extreme greed of man.
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