The Tyger

The still air carried on it no scent other than that of the soil and the rotting leaves. The distant rumble of thunder echoed across the dark sky, chasing after flashes that were too fleeting to do more than glimpse at. As the first few heavy drops began to fall, like spears from the stars, watering the heavens and the earth, the deer picked his way through the undergrowth.

The young buck knew the dangers of venturing out at night, but his quest for more enriching foliage had led him farther and farther from the lands he knew. His wanderings took him away from the dry and lifeless grasses of the plains, but the forest held its own risks.

Under the cover of the storm, he continued on, tasting the air for danger, but finding only the smell of rain. Flashes of light from the sky lit up the path in front of him in bursts of dappled silver. A sudden flicker of yellow caused him to turn, but he saw nothing other than shadow.

The lightning came again, and this time the thunder caught up to it. The two crashed to the earth together, striking a tree and setting it ablaze. The buck jumped back from the sudden flare that was already too large for the rain to put out. He turned and ran from the smothering heat, but before he could flee, something stepped into his path. Its coat was as orange as the flames behind him, but slashed with shadowy black, drawing it back into the darkness. Glowing eyes fixed on the buck, and black lips pulled back over white teeth.

The buck tried to flee, but the jaws closed around his neck, pulling him to the ground. The buck thrashed, his heart pounding and muscles spasming under the creature’s weight.

The tiger ended the buck’s life with a casual flick, snapping its neck. And behind him, the forest continued to burn.


FFM Day 29

Prompt: Find a poem and interpret it into a piece of prose. This is based off The Tyger by William Blake.

 


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