Xavier's Arc

Chapter 6 of 21

The mud on Xavier's clothes had dried stiff by morning. He sat on the moss with the tiger beside him, both watching the tree line. He knew more hunters would come. The bond that made the tiger his also made them a target. They could not keep sleeping in the open. Every time a predator came, they had nowhere to run but the bog. His small silver fox cub picked its way over the roots and pressed against his leg, ears twitching at every sound. Xavier had a goal now. He needed a shelter off the ground, somewhere a heavy beast could not reach. Berry found him near midday. The old bear moved slow through the reeds, his cream sweater still dark with swamp water. He had taught Xavier the flower roots, the tiger's trust, the reading of moss. Now he stopped and looked at the boy's tired face. "You can't heal on the ground," Berry said. "A hunter walks right up to you here." He pointed one black paw at a thick tree past the moss line. "Up there. That's where you sleep." Xavier stood. The tree was wide, its lower branches strong. "Show me," he said. So Berry showed him. They cut vines and hauled fallen wood from the dry ground. Berry braced the beams while Xavier lashed them tight. The fox cub carried small sticks in its mouth and dropped them at Xavier's feet. By dusk a rough platform sat in the branches, walls of woven leaves, a floor of planks. Vines hung down its sides like a curtain. But the tiger could not climb. Xavier saw the problem the moment he stepped back. The beast circled the trunk, huffing, unable to follow. A shelter that held him but not his companion was no shelter at all. He thought of the bog escape, of the roots that held his weight. He gathered the thickest vines and knotted them into a wide ramp, then wedged it against a low branch. He led the tiger to it slow, one hand on the red fur, coaxing. The tiger set a paw on the ramp. It held. Step by step, the beast climbed. The platform groaned but did not break. The tiger settled onto the planks, and Xavier climbed up beside it. For the first time, they were off the ground and out of reach. Berry looked up from below, nodding. "Good. But height's not safety," he said. "It's a start." He turned toward the reeds. "A climbing hunter still finds you. And the smell of that tiger carries a long way from up there." Xavier lay back on the planks. The tiger's warm side rose and fell against him. The fox cub curled between them. He had a home now, a place to heal between chases. But Berry's words stayed with him. The shelter kept the ground-bound beasts out. It could not hide the tiger's scent, and something out there could already smell it.