All Thistle can think about is the tigers. She knows everything about them. Despite the fact that she's never actually seen them, she could describe them to you perfectly. She could give you their whole life stories. Their extremely life stories.
She sits at the airport with everything she owns in a backpack. Her ticket, payed for with cash, is clutched tightly in her hand. She stares down at it blankly.
A voice comes over the intercom. "Flight 112 to India is now boarding."
Her purplish eyes look up from her ticket. "I'm coming, tiger boys," she whispers.
