Before you start, Pita means father.
"Hi! handsome hunting man
Fire your little gun.
Bang! Now the animal
is dead and dumb and done.
Nevermore to peep again, creep again, leap again,
Eat or sleep or drink again. Oh, what fun!"
― Walter de la Mare, Rhymes and Verses: Collected Poems for Young People
It was just supposed to be a hunt. A simple hunt. That was all. None of them had expected it to turn into this. They were men. They were the hunters, not the hunted.
Ranjan breathed heavily as he leaned against a tree. The rough bark bit into his skin where claws had already made their mark. A thick blanket of leaves blocked the sun from his hiding place. All the better, maybe he could escape this.
His eyes slid down, as though weighted. He could almost see his wife in front of him, her deep brown eyes watching him carefully.
"Shri," he breathed. His mind drifted back to when he had left the village with the rest of the men. She had not wanted him to go; none of the woman ever wanted them to go. They had no choice, however; they needed the meat for the upcoming winter. He had explained this to her. She had understood. She had been through it before.
Shanti had been less understanding. He could still here her voice. 'Please don't leave, Pita. I don't want you to go.' She had looked up at him with wide eyes, the same exact color as her mothers.
It had been harder to leave his little girl than it had been to leave his wife.
His girls were torn from his mind as a loud scream filled the air.
He slowly looked to the side, just in time to see his cousin tripping through a bush. He could see the panic and terror on Isha's face. It was explained a second later when a low growl sounded from the bush.
As he watched, a large shadow started to push its way through the leaves. As it approached, the stripped pattern on the creatures pelt became clear.
Tiger.
It slowly advanced on Isha, who had tripped on a branch, and was trying desperately to crawl away. He turned around when he heard a low rumble come from the feline. He held an arm out in front of him for some protection, no matter how feeble.
Claws slashed out, and easily cut through the flesh.
Ranjan watched the blood fly through the air. His mind flashed. Shri. Shanti. Messua, Isha's wife. The unborn child of Messua and Isha.
Ranjan moved without thinking. He threw himself between Isha and the tiger.
"Run!" he screamed at Isha.
The younger man clambered to his feet, and disappeared into the brush.
Ranjan kept the images of his wife and daughter in his head as the tiger stalked forward.
"I am sorry, Shanti. I cannot come home."
"I am terribly sorry," Isha whispered. "He gave his life for me."
Shri stared at him. Her eyes were wide, and water was starting to pool in them. She raised her hand, and covered her mouth. She took a few deep breaths, as though trying to contain the tears, but soon broke down.
She turned back into the house, and collapsed next to the fire. She covered her face in her hands, and let the tears fall freely.
"He will not be forgotten," Isha slowly told her, as he stood in the doorway. "If Messua gives me a boy, he will be named Ranjan."
Shri did not acknowledge that she had heard him.
Isha sighed, and absently rubbed the bandage that was wrapped around his arm.
"If you need any help, Messua and I will always be here for you and Shanti."
He slowly turned, and closed the door as he left.
In the next room, Shanti was leaning against the wall. She wasn't moving, just staring at the wall across from her.
Isha had said her Pita wasn't coming back. Isha had to be lying. Pita had promised he would come back. He always came back.
She blinked a few times, and turned to her window. She had always loved the view of the jungle her window gave her. She slowly walked over to the window.
She had never noticed how dangerous the darkness within the trees looked. She had never realized how sinister the music of the wild was.
As the tears started to fall, she swore to herself. She would never enter the jungle.
I just watched Jungle Book 2, and wondered where Shanti's father was. This is my idea. It also explains how Ranjans father, who I named Isha, got his scars. I don't own Jungle Book.