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“Blite! Watch where you put your paws!” Howskie said with a growl as Blite cannoned into his tail. “Sorry!” he said with a playful growl as he batted at the tail, which was tempting him to rip it off. They rolled on the ground, nipping and batting at the soft spots of the body.
Lichest bounded over to join them, leaped on top of Blite, grabbed his foreleg, rolled him onto his back, and planted his paws on his throat.
“One, two, three! I won!” he squealed, releasing Blite and stretching his spine. “You’re too easy, Blite. Who would want to have a challenging match with you? Whatever tiger would want to fight you, they’d rip those black-and-orange stripes right off your pelt! No, wait, I’m sorry. I meant black-and-white stripes. Come on, Howskie, let’s have a round!”
They started circling each other, and Blite, surprised by Lichest's sudden taunt, stepped forward, wanting to join in. Howskie’s eyes slipped to him, and he snarled, “Not you this time, black-and-white Blite!” he sneered. His eyes flickered back to his tiger brother. Blite flattened his ears, both clouded by hurt and anger, and headed into the forest.
The Streak, including Mother-and-Father-Tiger, were out hunting. Blite flattened his ears. I’ll show them what a black-and-white tiger can be! I’m going to hunt something big! He padded out of the den area and bounded into the woods without a second thought,
It was true. He was a black-and-white tiger. He had deep black fur and white stripes, pointy ears, and clear silver eyes. I may be a little bit different, but what does it matter? No one has to be the same. He lifted his head in pride as his tiny paws led him through the thick branches and tall trees. And I’m proud of being different! This is who I am, and no matter what they say, I am still the best at being me! I am Blite, and I am not afraid to fight back against some grumpy tiger-brothers.
He sniffed the breeze, searching for prey. He kept padding on, searching the wind. Then, he scented it.
Mouse!
It was not old. Eager, Blite sniffed the air, eyes darting this way and that for what he scented. Soon enough, he found it scuttling through some leaves, probably searching for its own food. Blite immediately charged at it, but it wasn't good timing. The prey’s head snapped around in shock, took one look at him, and darted into the nearest bush.
“Ugh!” Blite growled. He stomped back through the trees, anger driving him forward. I’m still going to catch something! I’m not going back to the Streak until I catch at least a lizard! He pushed through the branches and leaves until his nose scented another living creature.
Mole!
He smiled and headed toward the scent. Moles are slow, I will get it this time!
He stalked toward it, not charging this time until he got a good distance between him and the mole. He bunched his muscles and sprang. The mole squealed in surprise and frantically tried to scrabble away, but Blite had already pounced on top of it and held it down. “This will show the Streak that I am no different from them!” he snarled, and bit down with his little canines and shook the prey creature. It went limp in his mouth.
Now, I will go back to the Streak and show them my catch, and they will know they were wrong about me. Wrong that just because my coat is different from theirs, I can hunt and fight like any orange-and-black tiger that’s ever walked this earth!
Blite got to his paws, picked up the mole, and bounded across the clearing toward the Streak’s den-area. But before he got to the regular scent-markings of the tigers, something broke through the bushes behind him. He spun around, snarling. It had an unfamiliar scent, but also familiar at the same time. He saw what it was.
It was another tiger.
ns 15.158.61.7da2
