Gram Alder's Arc

Chapter 6 of 11

The tiger's muzzle stayed pressed against Gram's palm until dawn. Then she pulled back and turned toward the cave. She looked at him once over her shoulder. He knew what she wanted. She had touched him. Now she wanted him inside her den. He rose on stiff legs and followed her toward the dark mouth in the peak. The cave swallowed the morning light. Jagged stone framed the entrance. Weathered ledges ran along both walls. Gram stopped at the threshold. The mother slipped inside and vanished into the black. He could not see the cubs. He could only hear them, small and close, mewing somewhere in the dark. He took one step in. The rock was warm under his boots. Fire from the tiger's fur had heated the stone for years. He took another step. His eyes adjusted. He saw the mother lie down in the deep of the cave. The two cubs tumbled against her belly. She watched him come. Gram lowered himself to the floor an arm's length from her. This was closer than he had ever been. He kept his hands open on his knees. He did not reach for her. He waited, the way he had waited every night. One cub broke from its mother. It padded to Gram and sniffed his boot. It climbed onto his leg. He held still. The cub curled against his thigh and shut its eyes. The mother did not rise. She let her cub sleep on the man. Then the second cub came. It settled against his other leg. Gram sat with both cubs on him and the mother a foot away. Her breath was slow. Her coal eyes half closed. She had brought him into the one place she guarded. She had let him near her young while she rested. Gram reached out. He did it slowly, hand flat. He laid his palm on the mother's shoulder. Her fur was hot, but it did not burn. She felt his touch and did not move away. She let it stay. The bond he had chased for three winters closed around him in the dark of the cave. He stayed until the cubs woke and squirmed off his legs. The mother stood and stretched. She walked to the cave mouth and looked out at the peak below. Gram followed. She turned her head and pushed her brow against his chest. She was ready to go with him now. He felt it in the weight of her. But she looked down the mountain and would not step onto the trail. Her ears flattened. A low sound rolled in her throat. Far below, a thin line of smoke rose through the trees. Men had come into the deep woods. She would follow Gram anywhere except toward that smoke. To bring her home, he first had to learn who had lit the fire.