Ren shot to her feet, raising her cast-iron skillet over her head, ready to deliver a home-run swing to whatever came crawling out of the dark.
The white tiger stepped into the firelight.
A fat, freshly killed rabbit dangled from his jaws.
Ren slowly lowered her skillet. The tiger walked right up to her, lowered his head, and dropped the rabbit at her feet with a soft thump. Then he sat down on his haunches and stared at her expectantly.
Ren looked at the rabbit. Then she looked at the tiger.
"Oh," she said slowly. "You didn't want vegetables. You wanted meat."
The tiger blinked.
Ren burst out laughing. The sound echoed off the stone walls, loud and a little hysterical, and some of the tight tension that had been sitting in her chest all day finally cracked loose.
"You carnivorous snob," she grinned, already crouching down to grab the rabbit by its hind legs. "You could have just said so. Oh, wait. You can't."
The tiger's tail flicked once against the stone floor.
