Gina walked through
the look-a-like forest like a queen.
I am a queen,
she thought; a fading one. My line is ending and there is nothing I
can do about it. Sure they have created ‘laws’ against killing my kin –
as though they take them seriously. Their laws are nothing like the laws of
nature: binding, honest, trustworthy.
With
heavy steps, she walked in the grass. She pretended not to see those ugly iron
fences that surrounded the natural reserve. She liked to call it the forest for
it gave her a glimmer of hope.
“Mama!
Look at the tiger! It’s beautiful.”
I
was beautiful, child. I wish you could have seen me in all my glory, when I
roamed wild and free. My hide shone beneath the sun like a thousand coloured
diamonds. They were beautiful days; if only you knew.
“It’s
shame they don’t let us hunt’em no more. That fur’d be worth a fortune!”
Gina
heard one of the observers.
Poacher. She grunted angrily to herself.
They
come in all shapes and sizes. Even the women on the far right think my fur is worth
more than my life – for a petty coat!
We
are not evil; we were created as wild ones. But humans don’t understand that;
anything that can eat them is evil and beastly. Typical. They haven’t seen
themselves.
Greedy
poachers!
Gina
stood before the gathering audience, some watching briefly and some about to
leave.
Here
is something to remember me by.
She
stood, her fur glittering black and orange beneath the sun.
One
final stand.
And
she roared with all her might, echoing on every air-wave, little breeze and
howling tornado.
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| Taken from: http://dreamatico.com/data_images/tiger/tiger-8.jpg |
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