Surviving Tiger Lily by Mandy Nachampassack-Maloney

Father said the panther was strange, not fully there. Finally, as my mother was making the decision between force feeding him and dooming me, he had a vision. His skin stuck to his muscles at this point. And the entire time, the family prayed it would be a lion, a beast of glory, so that one day their line could provide a dominant. You should hear yourself sometime. No, my father said he was warned by my grandpa, who was strong in the instincts, that if my father didn’t fast and refuse all nourishment until he dreamt of one of the big cats, I would die in my mother’s womb. This I knew. This wasn’t someone caring for me when I wasn’t convinced I deserved such devotion to begin with. “Because Bear Who Snores Loudly wasn’t dignified?” I asked, falling easily into teasing. “Do you know why they named me Ghost Panther?” Execro asked, filling the silence I’d fallen into. How dare I be alive when she was not? How could I enjoy living when my sister had gotten not even half my days? Punishing myself, living uncomfortably, that’s what felt right.

“I…” I started and stopped in the same breath. The last thing we want is to face the Neversabre weak and depleted. “I know your mission, your revenge, is calling you onward,” he said, his eyes moving between the dancing fire and my face, “but we can’t push our bodies like that. One minute you were leaving, the next thing I knew I heard you coming back.” “Wouldn’t know if it did,” I admitted, “I must have fallen asleep.

“Anything exciting come looking around while I was gone?” he asked. Over a small fire, Execro cooked the crabs, carefully wrapping each shell in a leaf so the bundle could steam over the saltwater he’d collected.

Surviving Tiger Lily by Mandy Nachampassack-Maloney