Surviving Tiger Lily by Mandy Nachampassack-Maloney

He wore this cologne every night, but usually not so early in the day. He’s been drinking the mermaid concoction again. I noticed he slurred them a bit, and if I leaned in his direction I could easily pick up the scent of lagoon water. Someone had to show my people how to carry themselves with dignity.įather went after me, the last in the long line to farewell my sister and speak the sacred words. Someone had to adhere to pride and tradition. Not when my father was doing such a splendid job of recklessly leading.

It would be unseemly for the Dominant’s daughter to cry. She would not need it on the path she was headed. We took our anklets off to hunt, to parlay with outsiders, or to journey. This was something that adorned all people in our pride, something we only wore when we were safe and at ease. The delicate thing, able to fit around my wrist, jingled sweetly as I rose with it. Knowing this would be the last time I touched her, I bent down and unfastened the anklet Little Tigress wore. I said the words, “Wake up on the other side, run and play but do not hide, so only together we can come back to Neverland pride.” The shades reminded me of sunset over our isle. The veins of the leaf were a greener sort of yellow, the stem at the bottom a redder variation. I let go of my leaf, watching every passing detail as it spun in it’s decent. She’d looked like that every night for the seven years of her life. Reclined so peacefully in her little boat, you’d never guess she was ravaged by talons and gouged by dinosaurian teeth. It was my turn to step forward, say the words of passing, and throw my canary yellow leaf on top of Ashtara’s body.

Surviving Tiger Lily by Mandy Nachampassack-Maloney