He was hungry, having not eaten since yesterday, and it was a good day to hunt. Raising his head he smelled the air. There, not far, he could detect a scent. Prey! Slowly turning, he silently walked north towards his prey.  Stretching his muscles as he went, stopping every so often to sniff. Coming to the edge of some trees he spied his prey. A deer grazing alone, head bent, no idea he was being hunted.


He crouched low, hiding and watching as his prey grazed. Using the terrain around him to hide, he slowly crawled forward inch by inch. Suddenly the prey stood and looked, and he crouched lower. Holding his breath, he peeked out. The prey looked around, then bent back down and continued to eat. The tiger let out his breath and continued to stalk the deer.


He moved slightly to the side towards longer grass and looked around. He could hear the calls of the birds and other animals, but he knew none would disturb him. He was king of all he could see. He was the fiercest and scariest of all the tigers in the jungle. Slowly he crept closer to a tree to get a better look. He knew there were other tigers around and he wanted to make sure none were hunting his prey.


He crawled along towards his prey. He loved the thrill of the hunt. Stalking through the grass and forest unseen, knowing he was the best, blending into the background, the master of camouflage. No one could touch him. He was king.


Silently, he moved into the trees and paused. The darkness of the forest hid him well. This was what he liked, the thrill of stalking something without them knowing. He moved his powerful body slowly around the trees and closer, ever closer, to his prey.


Reaching the end of the trees, he crouched and searched for the best way to cover the rest of the distance. He was behind his prey, safe from its eyes and down wide just like he had been thought. He bunched up his muscles, ready for that final dash.


Suddenly there was a sound behind him and he crouched low to the ground and looked around. Nothing, he was just imagining it. Again he looked to where his prey was. From beside him came a sound.


“What you doing?”


He turned and there, sitting on the lawn, was his little sister. She hated when he called her that; so he called her it a lot. But she was younger than him by about 3 minutes.  He was the oldest of the litter born three months previous and made sure his brothers and sisters knew this.


His sister was a black and white kitten with a white face and black around her eyes. She was always around bothering him, always getting him in to trouble, but strangely he couldn’t think what it would be like without her and the rest.


Yeah, they fought, but that was how you let everyone know you were boss and practiced hunting. He looked at his sister and was annoyed that she had disturbed him. He was being a tiger and tigers didn’t tell their little sister want they doing.




“Can I Play?”


“No! I’m not playing I’m Hunting and it’s only for boys, not for nosey little girls. So go away,” he swiped at her and hissed.


“I’m telling on you,” she said as she walked away


He looked around to see if the stupid girl had scared off his prey.  The deer was still grazing.  It hadn’t heard the commotion. Crouching low in the grass, he let the forest hide him. He stalked slowly through the trees and got closer and closer.


Now he was only a small distance from his prey. Bunching his muscles he sprinted into the open and pounced on the prey. Turning and twisting he wrestled and fought with his prey until finally he had subdued the beast.


“Bad Kitty! Look at what you did to my wool. Now you’re all knotted up.”


He was sitting proud at his hunting skills. He saw the hand approach and gave a small swipe at it. The hand stopped and two fingers approach, tapping him on the nose.


“Bad Kitty.”


The hands slowly untied him and then started to scratch at his ears, he arched his head closer. He loved how this felt. He smiled and purred.  He then heard that dreaded sound. One he had heard often, his mother’s voice.


“What have you been up to now?”


Bowing his head, but still smiling, he looked sideways at his mother, his sister peeking out from behind her, sticking out her tongue.


“Nothing, I was just playing.”


His mother looked at him and stretched.


“Well enough playing its time for bed, so move it.”


“Can’t I stay up a little while longer? Pleeeease?” he begged. He tried this every night. It never worked, but he had to try.


“Don’t start, move it now.”


Sulking he moved towards the basket beside the door were they all slept. He had four other brothers and two sisters. Slowly he moved towards their bed, bouncing and tackling with his brothers. He loved this part of the day really, when they would all snuggle up together and sleep.


Running to the bowls he, his brothers and sisters started to eat what remained; hungry after their daily play. Then, yawning, he climbed into the basket, stretched and cuddled up to his mother.  Falling asleep, he dreamed of being a tiger.



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