The Tiger and the Fawn
Once there was a powerful tiger, proud and stealthy. An expert hunter this tiger was. He could track prey from miles away, and always landed the kill when he willed.
He never knew hunger, but in the very tip of his heart lived a small grain of loneliness, purple and cool. Tigers hunt by themselves, he understood, this was expected, this was known, and so he proceeded alone.
The jungle air was thick as cream with mosses cool, deep, and green. Day or night this jungle was alive with chatter, a constant vibration of stories and songs floating along the watery waves of the canopy.
One day, as the tiger prowled along the cool, damp earth, he picked up a trail. Fresh hoof prints led off into the emerald blackness of that humid place. The prints belonged to a young deer, merely a fawn. An easy catch.
He set to work, combing, sniffing, and tasting the ground. He stalked forward and slinked left. The minute clues that would reveal the fawn’s location couldn’t remain hidden when faced with the tiger’s expertise.
It was not long before he reached the tree line at the edge of the jungle. Peering out from the collage of leaves, he spyed the fawn. Not an ounce of fat lay on its body. It was skinny, frail, and weak, muscle fading. The head was hung low and the heart faced the ground.
The great cat prepared to claim this meagre meal when he suddenly had an idea! It was an abnormal idea, but the thought of it flushed the tip of his heart with warmth and excitement.
Head held high, a spark of fire flitted across his amber as the tiger moved into the clearing.
He took a deep breath, heart arched proudly towards the sun.
“You are alive right now because I’ve willed it,” he announced to the fawn.
The young deer’s hunger vanished instantly as his belly filled with fear. Eyes wide, blood turning cold, legs braced, the fawn prepared for a sprint.
The tiger continued, “But you’re so far gone, I could merely follow you and have a meal in a couple days. Although it wouldn’t be much of a meal.”
The tiger, knowing how to read tracks as well as the land, went on.
“You can find some fresh spring shoots half a mile east of here.” He moved his massive head, gesturing back towards the tree line.
“I’ll show you.”
The fawn stared at the tiger, unable to comprehend why this hunter had not yet pounced.
“Fawn, I can see you’re scared. I will be honest, as I don’t need deception to make a meal. I plan to eat you, but not as you are now. Not today.” The tiger waited a moment to be sure the words had sunk in.
“I want to try hunting with a companion, but other tigers, like myself, hunt alone. I can show you how to read the land. I can show you how to hunt what you need to be fat and happy. Once you’ve learned and I feel I’ve understood… ‘company’, I’ll leave you to lead a content life for three passings of the full moon, by then you’ll have more on your bones, and that is when I will kill you."
The tiger looked at the fawn with a solemn excitement, as if to say, “I have just given you a great gift!”, but the young deer remained speechless.
The cat spoke further, “The way I see it, fate had already decided that you were to starve and wither away. With my strength and cunning I found you, and now give you an option where you had none. I am death itself. As death, I come bearing the gift of life. Whether or not you take it is your choice.”
The lone hunter was not great at reassurance. Nonetheless the fawn processed this information. Instinct told him to run, but reason staggered him towards the waiting cat. The tiger growled a smile. He pushed air quickly through his nose, turning abruptly to lead the way towards grass. The fawn followed, and was soon finding himself entranced by the rising and falling of the tiger’s shoulders, luxurious fur melting over top of them with every step. Even more stunning than the fatty fur; not once did the tiger glance over his shoulder to see who might be found there. There was no hesitation in his steps, no darting of the head, no second guessing. The fawn had never seen such certainty while walking through the jungle.
After pressing forward for a bit in silence the fawn finally worked up the courage to speak to the massive cat.
“T-tiger, when did you see this grass? I’ve been looking all over and I’ve seen none.”
The tiger paused, taking a moment before growling a low rumbling reply.
“You disrespect your prey, making as much sound as you do while hunting. You are talking and you walk as one who doesn’t need to eat to survive. Do you think your prey to be so low and so stupid that you don’t need to be quiet as you approach?”
“It’s only grass,” the fawn choked out. “It’s not going anywhere.”
The tiger turned to face the young deer. Two fiery ambers surrounding a drop of focused black bored deep into the fawn’s heart.
“…and yet here you stand, weak with starvation.”
Shame turned the fawn quiet as his head and chest fell back towards the ground.
A thick syrup filled the tiger’s heart, a mixture of frustration and self recognition that stirred and slightly sickened his stomach.
Hunting was normally not this complicated.
“Walk in my paw prints,” the fire-eyed cat rumbled as he commenced walking again.
The fawn obeyed.
Another ten minutes of jungle passed by in silence. The fawn was beginning to wonder how much further they would have to go when the tiger stopped. The fawn’s gaze followed a flick of the tiger’s head and there stood the grass!
Beside himself with joy, but not wanting to make another wrong move, the fawn first looked to the tiger for permission. He gave a small nod and excitement filled the young deer’s heart. He pranced and ran, filling his mouth with fresh green shoots before pausing. Stopping to check his surroundings, he lifted his head to reassure himself that it was safe to continue eating.
The fawn, however, only saw the tiger, sauntering into the patch of green and sun where in a bout of clumsy grace he threw himself on the earth.
“Don’t worry. You have nothing to fear because you are mine. Just as the grass in your mouth has nothing to fear for it is yours.” The tiger yawned indulgently. “Eat freely, but only consume what you need, this grass is young and proud.” With that, the tiger closed his eyes and lowered his head.
After a moment of thought, the fawn continued to eat. From time to time he’d lift his head to marvel at the tiger. What it must feel like to sleep so completely.
The fawn ate his fill and no more. He thought about making a run for it, but rather than run and be frightened for the next few hours, uncertain if death would be around the next tree, the fawn chose to kneel beside the tiger and close his eyes.
The tiger and fawn slept.
When they awoke, they moved on once more.
“As I’ve said, I don’t plan to lead you to grass for the next three passings of the full moon,” the tiger began, “so I will now teach you how to properly hunt.”
“How do I hunt grass, let alone berries and leaves? They don’t leave a trail.”
“Just because something doesn’t leave a trail similar to yours doesn’t mean a trail has not been made.” The tiger sniffed the warm jungle mist.
“Grass, berries and leaves are all life and that life moves continuously forward, leaving a trail. If you know which way forward is, you’re already following the trail.”
“How do I find which way forward is?” asked the fawn.
“The sun. The sun is forward, water is forward, but the sun first and foremost. All trails lead to the sun. This is the trail your prey is following, so this is the trail you must follow.”
The fawn disappeared into thought and the tiger closed his eyes to listen to the air around them-.
“Tiger!” The fawn barked unaware of how loudly he was speaking, startling the tiger.
“How is it you know how to hunt the grass and the berries and the leaves?"
The tiger showed his teeth, partly out of frustration, partly for the fun of intimidation.
“By hunting these things I hunt you." The words came out of the cat’s throat with a playful crackling as a slow realisation sunk into the fawn.
“So, if someone were to hunt... you” he began, surprising even himself with his courage.
The tiger smiled slyly, traces of a roar continued to simmer in his throat like hot embers burning low.
“If someone were to hunt you,” the fawn continued, “then they would be able to find grass just as easily. I’d rather be behind a tiger than in front of one.”
The tiger felt the syrup stir in his heart once more, this time his stomach felt quite warm rather than sick. How fascinating this was to the tiger.
“You’re catching on,” the cat said. “This is why you must practice respect while hunting.”
“Whatever you decide to hunt, whatever leads you to life, will be your guide to the sun.” The fawn met the tiger’s eyes. “Without it, you become lost, as you were when I found you. Do not think your prey a fool, or beneath you, for it is your guide and soon to be the reason you have energy to follow the sun in the first place. Be cunning, for your prey is clever. Be quiet, for your prey is fast. Be respectful, for your prey is a gift. Now, I’m getting hungry and you’re going to hunt for me.”
This was a strange concept for the fawn, but he felt he knew what to do. He smelled the mist, listened to the air, and watched the trees as he had seen from the tiger. After some brief contemplation he took a step out in front. The waiting cat couldn’t help but notice that his stomach grew even warmer. He almost made a sound, but the hunt had begun and silence was non negotiable.
The tiger and the fawn made their way over fallen logs, around vines dangling low, through earth that gradually grew wetter. Suddenly, the tiger sped up to get in front, gesturing to his paw prints. The fawn understood and began to walk exactly where the tiger did.
They were close.
The tiger got low to the ground.
Breathless, the fawn watched and waited.
A silent flash of orange and black was followed by a brief rustle of green and red. Emerging from beyond where the fawn could see, the tiger returned carrying a rabbit in his teeth. He dropped it at the feet of the wide-eyed deer who was unsure of how to react.
“This rabbit has four limbs like you and I,” the tiger said.
The fawn nodded.
“It has a heart like you and I.”
Once again, the fawn nodded.
“It is a little more like you and I than the things you eat, but it is my guide just as the young spring plants are yours. If you will pity the rabbit then you must pity the grass all the same.”
The fawn felt a weight in his heart. He did pity the rabbit, but for the first time, he felt pity for the grass he had eaten as well.
“If you are going to lead a fat and happy life,” the tiger continued “it is going to be through the help, and sometimes sacrifice of others. This doesn’t mean you’re to feel guilty and ashamed of every meal, but rather, show respect and gratitude to the guide who has led you to life.”
After the tiger had finished his meal, leaving nothing but a bare skeleton, he sat and looked at the young deer. To the tiger’s surprise, the fawn seemed on the edge of laughter. He nodded to a small tuft of rabbit fur clinging to the side of the tiger’s mouth and prepared to be growled at again, but to the fawn’s astonishment, the tiger prowled over, butted his forehead into the fawn’s side, and with little effort knocked him to the ground.
“You’ve had green smudged on your nose since we left the grass patch,” said the tiger as he sauntered away. The fawn smiled and scrambled after the cheeky cat.
However, they didn’t go far before stopping once more.
“You know how to hunt,” the tiger said, turning his head. “You still make noise while you walk, but you know how to find the trail. It’s time I took my leave of you.”
The fawn was about to protest but the tiger continued,
“Thank you for sharing the hunt with me.”
The syrup in the tiger’s heart immediately swirled warm, far less thick than it once was. He surveyed the fawn for a moment longer before letting out a fiery crackle and padding off into the jungle. The fawn was alone, but capable.
Three times the golden god of heat introduced the silver goddess in her full brilliance, hanging plump in the sky. The rains came and the earth drank heavily. This did not stop the tiger. He set out looking for the fawn as he said he would. He stalked forward and slinked left, paws pancaking heavily in the liquid earth. No luck. The tiger ate meals he had not intended to eat.
The golden god continued to light the sky and introduce a goddess who became gradually less present, allowing her children who spotted the great black, to shine brighter. Had the fawn forgotten how to find the trail? He must have gotten lost and perished. Several more days went by and the tiger set out to search for the fawn one last time. He slinked forward and stalked right; many hours passed. The tiger was about to give up the search when he glanced down and saw one of his own paw prints. It was old; he’d already searched here a few days earlier. However, this didn’t bother the tiger. In fact, he smiled. A low growl escaped his teeth. For as sure as the canopy sang, in the centre of the tiger’s paw print was the hoof print of a deer. A young deer, merely a fawn.
The tiger stood tall, silently studying the small print. The little grain of cool loneliness didn’t feel so cool and lonely. In fact, the tiger couldn’t seem to find it at all! Cinders in his chest began to glow warm, his watery heart stirred with such a fervent whirling he felt slightly dizzy. He could no longer hold back. The tiger could not keep the hunt quiet. He opened up to the furnace within and let out a roar of delight that crackled and barked across the sky.
After all this time, the tiger was still leading the fawn to grass, and for the first time, the great cat had a reason to look over his shoulder, knowing somewhere there was a friend, glowing back, from the emerald blackness of that most humid place.