The jungle felt smaller. The towering trees, the thick undergrowth—once a vast and endless world—had become a cage. A trap.
The cub did not move. His tiny body stiffened, instincts screaming for him to run, but his paws remained frozen against the earth. The scent of hyenas filled his nose, thick and suffocating.
The tigress did not turn to him, nor did she crouch in preparation to strike. She remained still, watching the shadows where the eyes lurked.
A low chuckle slithered through the air—rasping, cruel, filled with amusement that did not belong in the mouth of a true predator.
Hyenas.
The cub did not understand how he knew it was laughter, but he did. It was the same way he had once recognized false smiles, empty promises. In his past life, he had known those who laughed like this—men who whispered in boardrooms, who smiled while they stole.
One of the shadows moved. Slowly, deliberately.
A hyena stepped forward, its mottled fur blending into the jungle's dim light. Its head was large, its ears twitching, listening to something unseen. A second followed, then a third. Soon, the entire clearing seemed filled with them—figures shifting just beyond clarity, circling.
The tigress exhaled, a sound too quiet to be called a growl. It was not a sound of fear. It was a sound of knowing.
The lead hyena cocked its head. "So tense," it murmured, voice thick with mockery. "We only came to talk."
Another laugh—sharp, grating, like bones cracking under pressure.
The cub swallowed, his small body pressing instinctively closer to the tigress.
"You've come too close," the tigress said, her voice steady, unreadable.
"Have we?" The hyena took a slow step forward. "Didn't mean to. The jungle is so... big. And yet, here we are. Crossing paths."
The other hyenas chuckled at his words. Their eyes never left the tigress.
The cub felt something cold twist inside him.
He had seen this before. Felt this before.
Not in the jungle, but in another life.
A dark room. Men seated around him. Their smiles sharp, their words friendly, too friendly. They had come to talk.
And in the end, he had lost everything.
The cub's claws unsheathed instinctively.
The lead hyena noticed. His dark eyes flicked toward the small tiger, and a slow, lazy grin spread across his muzzle.
"What's this?" he said, amusement dripping from his tone. "A new little cub? We hadn't noticed."
A low, rumbling growl rose from the tigress's throat.
The hyena stopped smiling.
The tension in the air thickened, pressing down on the cub's chest.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then the lead hyena exhaled, shaking his head as if disappointed. "No need for hostility," he sighed. "We were simply curious."
The tigress did not respond.
The hyena's grin returned. "Enjoy your morning, Shikaari," he said, stepping backward into the shadows. His gaze lingered on the cub for just a moment longer, his expression unreadable.
Then, one by one, the hyenas faded into the jungle. Their laughter remained, echoing long after they had gone.
The cub let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His heart pounded.
The tigress did not move. She continued to stare at the empty space where the hyenas had been.
After a long silence, she spoke.
"Remember what you saw today, cub."
Her voice was low. Almost... tired.
"The jungle is filled with enemies. Some will fight you with claws. Others will fight you with words."
She finally turned to him, her golden eyes sharp with warning.
"But in the end, they all want the same thing."
The cub swallowed, his body still tense. "What do they want?"
The tigress gazed at him for a long moment.
"To see you fall."
And with that, she turned, padding back toward the den, leaving the cub alone with his thoughts.
The jungle did not feel the same anymore.
The cub had learned his first lesson—not about hunting, or fighting, but about something far more dangerous.
The jungle was not just a place of survival.
It was a place of power.
And power was a game.
A game he had already lost once.
But this time, he would not fall so easily.