Please forgive my ignorance. I have no excuse but I just can't find it in myself to spend ages researching tiger behaviour, at least, not for a fanfiction. Original writing sure, but fanfiction is a very lazy outlet for me.

Chapter 14

Will had never seen a tiger before. At first he didn't recognise what it was. Then he recalled Lillian describing the animals of Oramin on the Skandian ship, referring to the dozens of old, decaying books she had studied in the candlelight. She'd called their striped fur 'exquisite' and their faces 'noble'.

She hadn't mentioned behaviour or how to kill them with one crudely made spear. Lillian had always been bigger on the 'how do the Oramine feel about tigers?' side of things. Until she'd gotten to know the Oramine, namely Sirisa, and now she had developed an attitude leaning towards, 'who gives a damn what the Oramine think."

Will tightened his hold on the spear. It was slippery in his hand. He wished he'd been more alert- what sort of a ranger was he to have it pointed out to him that there was a giant cat there? Halt would be disappointed, even if tigers could move in total silence. Anyway, he wished more that he had his ninety pound draw bow with him, and a quiver of razer sharp arrows.

The amber eyes held him captive and he fancied he saw a light of curiosity there. Sirisa clutched his arm. He could feel her trembling.

"Don't look in its eyes," Sirisa whispered. "They're supposed to hate that."

For once, he was glad to have an Oramine with him, someone who knew things about the local wildlife. Will swallowed and dropped his gaze, focusing instead on the jaw that was held slightly open, providing a lovely view of the teeth.

Will took a pace backwards. The tiger stepped forwards to match. Its powerful shoulders appeared through the leaves. He knew some animals in Araluen, like boars, wildcats and bears would take more interest in a running target than one that was standing still. If this tiger was the same, he didn't know.

"Sirisa? Do we stand still?" he whispered.

"I-I think so," she stammered, her hands clenching around his arm.

He could sense her fear, but she did not move as the tiger prowled closer. It padded up to them, circling them, sizing them up. Will followed its movements with the spear. The obsidian that he'd been estatic to find wasn't as reassuring as he'd thought it would be.

The tiger growled at the spear, perhaps recognising the threat. It occurred to Will that it might have seen similar weapons with the tribespeople. Its tail flicked in irritation.

He saw the muscles bunch and had barely enough time to react. Claws and teeth gleamed in the firelight and Will seized Sirisa, the two of them rolling out of the way. The spear jabbed at his thigh and there was searing heat on his arm. He tried to recover his composure, noting instantly that the tiger had paused and was suspicious of the fire.

When they had moved, his arm had crossed the fireplace and now burned where his sleeve had caught fire. Will twisted onto his front to smother it against the ground, aware that his legs were tangled with Sirisa's and he'd dropped the spear. She squirmed away from him, staggering to her feet.

With his the fire on his sleeve put out, Will turned his attention to the tiger. He retrieved the spear and pointed it at the beast. In another situation, he might have thought the rippling pelt to be beautiful. As it was, he had no time for admiration.

It growled and strolled around the fire. Will and Sirisa edged around as well, making sure to keep the flames between themselves and the tiger. They huddled together as they moved, the spearpoint held steady at the tiger's forehead.

"What do we do? What do we do?" Sirisa hissed, the whites of her eyes shining.

Will struggled to stay calm and think reasonably. "Can it climb?"

"Yes."

"Swim?"

"Yes." Sirisa was sounding more desperate by the second.

Will ground his teeth together. It would surely eat them if they stayed put. The tiger paused, studying them a safe distance from the fire.

Will seized a branch from the fire and waved it, lighting up the air with sparks. The tiger snarled. He passed the burning branch to Sirisa, then whipped up another one for himself. Somehow, they made him feel safer than the spear did.

"Back!" Sirisa yelled, her voice shaky. "Get back!" She waved the branch as Will had done and she looked far more manic than the tiger did.

It seemed to lose patience with them, and not in a good I'll-just-go-home-then kind of way. The tiger gathered its powerful muscles beneath it and raced around the fire.

"Move, move!" Will cried as he dragged her back, waving the torch. Snapping jaws were centimetres from his face but the flailing torch warned them back and singed the tiger's nose.

"Run!" Sirisa lost her nerve. Will was right behind her, tripping over roots and thankfully regaining his balance before he fell. They twisted and swerved as best they could. Their best was no where near that of a tiger. He realised it had been a bad idea to leave the bigger fire. And here, in the jungle, bad ideas were deadly.

Will sensed it was right behind him. He risked a glance over his shoulder, crying out as he saw it would take only a few more seconds for the tiger to pounce. He swung the branch around and it hesitated at the sparks, which provided momentary relief.

"Split up," he said to Sirisa and changed course. He hoped he'd be the one that was hunted to allow Sirisa to get back to camp. When he glanced around, he saw her firelight glittering through the trees. He swung his own light around, slowing to a halt because the tiger wasn't around him.

"Damn," he said to himself and darted through the dense growth of trees to find Sirisa. Her light was obscured by trunks, then it would reappear some metres ahead. His heart pounded and he could taste metallic blood in his throat.

He caught a flash through the trees. Sirisa had tripped and was sprawled on her back, swinging the torch at the tiger that was seconds away from killing her. Will had no time for doubts. He lifted the spear over his shoulder as he ran and sent it spinning with all the force he could muster.

It struck the tiger smack in its side. Its ears flattened back and it roared in pain, turning to Will with bloodlust in its amber eyes. Sirisa crawled back, panting. It had been a lucky shot; Will was no great hand a spear throwing. He had, in fact, been aiming for its throat.

Now, he skidded to a stop, almost falling over himself in his hurry to turn and sprint for cover. The tiger shot after him, its pain making it disregard the fire it feared. Will would have been dead if not for his spear. It jolted against a trunk and the tiger's pace slowed as agony tore through its system.

Sirisa had regained her footing and even though she was breathing hard, and the cuts on her hands had reopened, she lunged for the spear sticking from the tiger's side. She braced herself, trying to pull it one handed from its flesh while her other hand held her torch. If not for her, Will would surely have died that night, and he made sure to tell her that whenever she ranted about foreigners- priase calmed her down somewhat, even praise from a foreigner.

She pressed the torch against its fur, burning it. The tiger twisted and snapped. She was thrown around; lost her footing, bruised and battered, but she held onto the spear grimly and kept jabbing at its side with the burning branch. This all took place in seconds, and with a furious growl and a shake, the torch slipped from her grasp.

Giving up on dislodging her, the tiger barrolled through the trees, straight at Will. He barely had time to dive out of the way. Sirisa lost her puchase and rolled on the ground, the spear tearing from its flesh with her. She was shaking as she clutched the weapon close and tears rolled down her cheeks.

The tiger skidded around, charging back at Will, who was closer. He staggered bakwards as he shoved the flaming banch at its face. A jagged stick that twisted off the branch stabbed its eye. It shook its head to clear it, blood trickling from the eye like it was crying.

Will clumsily staggered the distance to Sirisa backwards. He had to rip the spear from her hands, she was holding onto it for dear life. The tiger growled and ran at him. Will struggled against his legs- don't run, don't move- and as the tiger's mouth opened, he pushed the spear between its lips with all his might, ramming it right down the tigers throat.

Blood mixed with foam around its lips and it made strangled little whimpers. Will pulled the spear back because it would be useful later. He felt oddly cold and empty as the tiger sank to the ground.

With the bloodstained spear, he carefully finished it off. He didn't want it to suffer any more. The blood pooling from its mouth and eye didn't seem right on such a majestic creature. Will knelt beside it and stroked the fur around its neck.

"Thank you," he said, because now they were out of immediate danger, he could see the tiger was a blessing. It- no, he, Will correctedd himself- would provide both food and blankets.

Will tossed the bloodied spear up and down in his hand. It was, he decided, not a crudely made weapon at all, or even remotely feeble. This was a weapon worthy of any warrior and he was very, very pleased that he had found that obsidian.

He still felt hollowed out. It wasn't unfamiliar, he got the feeling when he killed. Not all the time, not in the heat of battle. It was afterwards, when he walked among the dead bodies and saw the weeping widows, and he couldn't find it in himself to cry because none of his friends had died, but he recognised the massacre looked much more terrible now it was over and he just felt lost.

Will gave the tiger one last stroke. It may have been the brutality of the agonising death that got to him. He wasn't even sure, the only emotion that was definate was relief at being alive. He did as Halt had taught him to do and searched for what was practical.

He stamped out the torch Sirisa had dropped. The flames were starting to spread and he made sure they were well and truly out before he moved over to her.

"We're alright now," he said. She had her knees drawn to her chin, clutching Will's torch as if it was her last hope with silent tears. He held out a hand to her and she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She shuddered and he held her steady until her knees stopped shaking.

Sirisa tried to give him back the torch. He shook his head, pressing her hands around it.

"You hold onto it for now," he said.

They didn't dare seperate, so he took her with him back to the fire he had lighted for torches. He stamped it out. The last thing they needed was a forest fire. Then they trekked to where the tiger lay dead.

Will lifted its shoulders and head, grunting with the effort and holding the spear awkwardly as well as a handfull of fur. Sirisa hesitated.

"Come on," he said. "We should get it back to camp."

"I'm not touching it," Sirisa croaked. She had managed to stop her tears as he put out the fire, but he could see they weren't far away.

"Sirisa, please," Will begged. "Just think of curling up under a soft fur, completely warm for the first time since we've been out here."

He saw her waver. Her eyelashes fluttered with a dreamy look- to spend a night without the chill burrowing into her bones. A luxury, one they'd thought they wouldn't have for a long time.

"Fine," she said, hefting the back legs up over her shoulder. She still had the torch and she held it pressed against the pelt to help support the weight. As they trudged along, arms aching, eyelids heavy, Will thanked her for saving his life and said she most certainly was the most un-jujoan person he'd ever met. She told him un-jojoan wasn't a phrase but that she wouldn't expect a foreigner to know any better, that of course she wasn't a jujoan and no one would mistake her for one, and then she thanked him for saving her in turn.

They had to stop and rest several times, because the tiger was heavy. After a while, the branch burned to Sirisa's fingertips and she threw it away with a yelp. They stamped it out and the pitch black descended on them. Will ushured her on; the landscape was familiar here and he thought he could keep going in a straight line, even in the dark. Sure enough, they stumbled from behind a tree and saw the glow of their campfire.

There were, of course, a heap of questions when they turned up bloody and the cause of the blood being a massive tiger. Sirisa went straight to bed and Will stayed up to explain what had happened. He ommitted the part when they'd talked up the tree because he felt that would be invading her privacy, and instead skipped straight to the tiger, which was what everyone wanted to hear about anyway.

He didn't want the meat attracting more predators, so despite his exhaustion, he and Ruch gutted and skinned it. Halt was awake, so he took the watch from his bed, to allow Will and Lillian to sleep while Ruch and Antil took their own burning branch, walked a while away from camp, and balanced the meat and skins in a tree. They returned with the resolution to turn the pelt into blankets in the morning. One of them took over the watch, Will never knew which one, because he was fast asleep by this point.

With an uneventful next few days, they settled back into their rythym. The fur of the tiger was stiched up by Lillian, who turned out to be a talented sewer, into three blankets, one a bit smaller than the others. Even Sirisa couldn't criticise the courier for this. Without discussing it, they ended up taking turns with the blankets. One night Lillian and Antil curled up under them, the next night Ruch and Sirisa, and so on. The third blanket, the smallest one, was given to Halt every night. On the occassions he woke, he argued vehemently about this and forced someone else to accept it. But once he fell asleep, Will would silently tuck the blanket around him again.

The ate like pigs for two days, working their way through the meat. Any longer and it would go off, so they were determined to get through as much of it as they could. As a consequence, spirits were high for those two days. There was no fighting. The word 'jujoan' was not mentioned even once.

After that, they had to return to despair on seeing an empty snare. The knawing hunger seemed ever more potent after those two days of royal feasting, and the nuts Sirisa managed to find seemed less exciting as they had done before the tiger.

Tempers flared, cooled, and now Will came up with a rule. If anyone began to feel short tempered or frustrated, it was a good time to take a walk and do some foraging. At first, they were apprehensive about going off on their own- the ordeal with the tiger had shaken them, but as more days passed and nothing else dramatic happened, they found that a walk did calm their tempers and some time alone was welcomed.

They also discovered knew things by wandering off to knew places. Antil found a scrap of rope half covered in dirt, just lying abandoned on the ground. They didn't want to think about where the original owner was, but rope was a handy tool that had many a use. Will used it to help tie up the shelter, to make it more secure against bad weather.

Sirisa stumbled across a tamarind tree, which added some variety to their diet. Ruch found cashews and bananas. Lillian didn't venture far enough from camp to find much at all. And the most obvious thing they all noticed was that the swamp was receding with the friendly weather. Before long, they would be able to try and fish from the river.

Fishing was Will's idea and he hadn't received much support on it. The others weren't keen to go anywhere near the giant fish and they certainly didn't want to upset it by killing the residents of the river. If they got hungry enough, they'd come around, Will knew. At the moment when he impressed this idea on Sirisa, claiming that she could handle a giant fish if she'd wrestled for a spear with a tiger, she scoffed and said the river monster was an entirely different matter, though she blushed at the high praise.

Then came the day that had them all grinning and high fiving, then wincing as their cut hands connected. They finished the weapons. Five spears, one for each of them, not counting Halt because that would encourage the ranger to fight and he was in no condition to be doing so. Halt didn't complain, he shared Will's first impression on the unfamiliar weapons and he was no great fan of spears. He hadn't had a run in with a tiger to change his mind.

Will also had a dagger, made from the chunk of obsidian that was as long as his wrist to his fingertip. The actual blade was half that because he'd wrapped the top in cloth from his ranger cloak and fur from the tiger to protect his hand. It was crude and jagged, they'd spent more time on the spear heads so the blade was a bit chunkier then the blacksmiths in Redmont would have liked, and it had two points, one closer to the handle than the other. Will smiled and sliced it through the air. It was no saxe knife, but it was all he had.

Ruch also had a sword, similar to the jagged edge of the knife with the cloth handle. His was from the large piece of obsidian, the one they'd used as a saw to break of branches. He preferred his spear but he'd been getting creative with crafting and hadn't wanted to waste the big piece. He had offered it to the others, in particular Halt who didn't have a weapon, but no one else had any experience with a sword so it made sense he keep it for himself.

"Well done everyone!" Will said, not at all caring about his cut and bleeding hands. It felt good to accomplish something.

Well crap, Sirisa may have had a Mary-Sue moment in there... damn the girl, she wasn't doing what I told her. Hopefully it wasn't too bad...I can't have my Ocs being completely useless.

I felt terribly sorry for the tiger, myself. I was rooting for it really, the poor thing.