"You'll understand when you have kids of your own."
My parents' words ring in my ears. Right now, I'm tempted to tell my eye-rolling past self to buckle up and back off on the attitude. But, to be fair, Past Me had no frame of reference. I hadn't had cubs yet.
Leonie's and Finn's tails stick out like exclamation points, signaling their excitement. They just opened their eyes. Should they be hunting? On the other hand, this is a fantasy game world. We've long since established that normal animal biology doesn't apply.
[Leonie! Finn! Don't wander off!]
I am in Beast Dad Mode, ruling over our little tribe. Actually, a group of tigers is called a streak or an ambush. So, I rule over our little streak. Today, however, ambush seems more appropriate.
Lightning projects her voice, too. [Come back.]
The cubs don't respond. Kids! You can't do anything with them.
Gussie dive-bombs them. "Stop! Stop!"
"No hunt," Dag squawks.
