Chapter 32

This cub was smaller than any cub An An had ever seen. Even the fur that had just started growing at birth had not yet shed, and there was a deep wound on its pale pink body, still oozing blood.

“Tuntun!”

The little lion, who had been stubbornly defiant just moments ago, shrank back when he heard An An’s voice, his ears drooping.

In this household, he wasn’t afraid of Maya or Gairo. Even if they were angry, they would at most scold him a few times. When one was loved, one tended to act fearlessly.

But An An was different. If he made a mistake, before he could even react, a paw would land on his backside first.

“Awuu…”

Tuntun pushed the injured cub toward An An. An An lowered his head and took a glance—hmm… it actually looked kind of cute?

From the anxious movements of Tuntun’s paws, it was clear that he had snatched this little beastman cub from the mouth of a predator that specialized in preying on young animals in the grasslands. That explained why the cub was so severely injured.

When Maya saw An An’s half-drooped ears and the somewhat ingratiating look in his little eyes, she immediately understood his intentions. She rubbed her temples helplessly and said,

“His injuries are too severe. I’ll go find some medicinal herbs. Tuntun, he might not survive.”

The little lion panicked upon hearing this. He lowered his head and started licking the cub’s body. As if it was an instinct engraved in his soul, he knew that licking wounds would help them heal faster.

When Maya left, Gairo already understood her decision. He moved his paw, mentally calculating how much more prey he would have to hunt now.

After trying to figure it out for a while and getting nowhere, he simply flipped over and went back to sleep.

Ever since he had brought An An back to his territory, there was no turning back. Gairo didn’t actually dislike cubs—he was just annoyed that now there would be yet another body crowding into his sleeping cave.

He already got kicked when someone rolled around in their sleep. Now there would be another one kicking him? Where was his dignity supposed to go?!

Maya traveled far to find the herbs. It was as if she had a natural talent for this—after seeing the specific type of wound, she picked out the most suitable medicine.

By the time she returned, the sky was already dark. The cub had barely managed to eat a couple of the fruits An An had brought back. The ripe fruit only needed to be peeled before being gently licked.

The cub hadn’t even opened its eyes yet. But when it smelled food, it instinctively moved toward it. Seeing the cub’s eager manner, Tuntun suddenly understood why An An, Gairo, and Maya always liked to sit around and stare at him while he ate.

If it were him, he’d want to watch too!

Maya roughly processed the herbs and applied them to the cub’s wound. The pain made the little one let out a tender cry, and Tuntun anxiously paced around, glancing left and right, his tail swishing wildly.

Based on Tuntun’s past behavior, Maya absolutely wouldn’t allow him to sleep next to the cub. He, like Gairo, slept too soundly and moved too much in his sleep. If he rolled over onto the cub, there would be no saving it.

For once, Tuntun woke up early the next day. He didn’t even rub his paws like he usually did upon waking up. Still groggy, with sleep crust in his eyes, he eagerly crawled over to check if the cub was still alive.

He sniffed it with his nose. After confirming that its body was still warm, he gently nudged it. He had no idea whether the cub would prefer venison or wild buffalo meat.

Gairo and An An woke up one after the other. After greeting Maya, they prepared to go out hunting. Maya reminded them to come back early since she planned to gather herbs today and needed someone to stay behind to watch over the cub.

Tuntun wasn’t an option—he was still too young.

“Mom, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Be careful.”

The two tigers left side by side. At the entrance, Tuntun let out a couple of “awuu” sounds, as if bidding them farewell.

As they walked, Gairo followed behind An An, watching the white tiger ahead of him, walking against the light.

The days before Maya and An An had come into his life were already starting to feel blurry to Gairo. Thinking back, it almost seemed like a different lifetime—he even found himself doubting whether it had really happened.

Back then, the word “home” had meant nothing to him. A territory was just a territory. He drove out intruders simply because he found their presence offensive.

But now, as soon as he stepped outside his territory, hearing Maya and Tuntun’s farewell in the background, even the most ordinary places seemed to hold some kind of indescribable attachment.

Gairo and An An returned at almost the same time. Wanting to come back early, they had shortened their hunt as much as possible. The two had worked together so many times that their cooperation was seamless.

On the way back, they happened to pass by a fruit tree and picked two fruits for the new cub.

An An didn’t know how much longer the cub would survive with them, but as long as it was still breathing, he wouldn’t let it go hungry.

Gairo knew that the fruit was fully ripe. He took the extra prey onto his back, already making a mental note—whoever dared to kick him tonight, he was definitely kicking them back! He was shouldering a burden he never should have had to bear!

At Tuntun’s age, young beastmen were mischievous. Before bringing the cub home, he used to run around wildly every day, always coming back covered in dry grass and fallen leaves.

But now, he stayed quietly by the cub’s side. Even when the cub’s breathing was barely audible, he would anxiously use his paw to nudge it awake, only feeling reassured once he saw it open its eyes a little.

At first, Maya had been preparing herbs they would need for the winter. When she finally returned and took a closer look—if she wasn’t mistaken, the cub was actually crying and begging for mercy.

After standing there and watching for a while, she realized that every time the cub was about to fall asleep, Tuntun would poke it and wake it up.

Cubhood was a time meant for sleep. And with injuries, rest was even more crucial.

Maya walked over to see the poor cub, already so exhausted that its eyes were brimming with tears, yet completely unable to escape Tuntun’s relentless torment.

“Tuntun, he’s trying to sleep, not dying.”

“Awuu?”

The little lion, just about to poke the cub again, froze mid-motion. He tilted his head in confusion, seemingly struggling to accept this reality. Silently, he retracted his paw, crawled to the side, and lay down.

Pressing his chin onto his paws, he gazed at Maya with an innocent look. From his expression, Maya could tell he was saying, “I’ll be good.” She rubbed his head.

Just then, Gairo and An An returned, bringing back a plentiful haul. They had even brought food specifically for the cub.

“I’m going to find some more herbs. You two watch the cub carefully—other animals might approach.”

An An patted Gairo’s head and assured him that they would keep a close eye on the cub and make sure nothing snatched it away.

Once Maya left, An An carefully peeled one of the ripe fruits and placed it near the cub’s head. Half-asleep, the cub smelled the food and instinctively leaned toward it, shifting closer to the source of the scent.

A lion and two tigers all surrounded the little cub, watching it clumsily lick the fruit flesh. The cub’s condition was clearly much better than the day before. After finishing one fruit, it even lifted its head slightly, as if wanting more.

An An reached for another fruit, but before he could grab it, Tuntun had already bitten into it, tearing the skin with his teeth and pushing it toward the cub with his paw.

It wasn’t just An An and Gairo who found feeding cubs fun—Tuntun did too. Both fruits were eaten clean, leaving only the peels behind. The cub’s belly was visibly full.

Tuntun gave An An a light push with his paw. Annoyed, An An smacked him on the head.

Tuntun lightly pushed An’an with his paw, but An’an, annoyed, smacked him on the head.

This useless lion, not climbing trees, doesn’t understand how hard it is for tigers. Does he think finding this kind of fruit is that easy?!

The cub hadn’t even grown teeth yet, so the fruit had to be fully ripe. Fully ripe fruit like this was usually bird food—how could they get any?

Tuntun covered his head with one paw, huffing, and ran to the side to sulk.

With the little lion no longer disturbing him, the cub was finally able to get some proper sleep. After eating and drinking his fill, he drifted off with a satisfied expression on his tiny face.

Gairo and An’an weren’t very hungry, and since Maya hadn’t returned yet, they didn’t feel right eating first. So, they just squatted there, watching the cub sleep, staring at his little belly rising and falling with each breath.

After a long wait, Maya finally returned with medicinal herbs. She set them down, then noticed the untouched prey to the side. She quickly picked up a stone knife and began dividing the meat.

Still groggy from sleep, Tuntun wasn’t fully awake when the meat distribution started. He instinctively ran toward the food but, with his eyes half-closed, stumbled in the wrong direction and fell. Sitting there, he rubbed his eyes with his paws before running toward the right direction.

His urgency, as if his tail was on fire, made it seem like he was afraid they’d forget about him.

“Don’t rush. There’s a portion for you.”

An’an trotted over, grabbed Tuntun by the scruff of his neck, and carried him to where the meat was being divided.

When had he ever missed a meal? He was, after all, a cub that An’an had personally brought back. No way would he let him starve here.

Tuntun kicked his four legs in the air, struggling. He knew he wouldn’t be left out, but he just wanted to take the first bite.

After they finished eating, Gairo and An’an planned to rest for a while since they needed to go hunting in the afternoon.

Tuntun, who wasn’t sleepy at all and just wanted to play, was carried back to the cave by An’an. He was pinned down with a paw—there was no escaping.

Forced into being a plush toy, Tuntun gradually dozed off to the sound of Gairo’s snoring.

Once they were all asleep, Maya checked on the cub. She estimated that he was no more than fifteen days old. Carefully, she changed his medicine and cleaned off the dirt on his body.

The cub showed no resistance the entire time. When Maya put him down, he even gently nuzzled her hand in gratitude.

When An’an woke up, he found out that the new cub had a name—Shengsheng. Maya hoped he would survive.

Gairo, with all these new names to remember, simply shook his head and decided to take a walk to clear his mind.

The cub had survived in the cave for three days. On the morning of the fourth day, as the sun rose, Maya confirmed that he was still breathing. Finally, she let out a sigh of relief.

If his wounds healed properly, he would recover soon. The season was favorable, and with abundant food, he had a good chance of making it.

When Maya shared the news, the happiest one was Tuntun. He was so excited that he started running in circles.

After all, he had fought and won a battle to rescue this cub—no way would he let him die now.

Shengsheng was the first cub Maya had ever raised from such a young age. He could eat very little, and every day of raising him was nerve-wracking. But fortunately, he had a strong will to live.

When An’an searched the entire grassland and still couldn’t find any edible fruit for Shengsheng, Maya mashed meat into a paste, and Shengsheng was able to eat a little. He wasn’t picky at all.

Maybe it was fate, but the cub they had rescued again turned out to be another little lion. This golden-furred cub looked a lot like Gairo.

Sometimes, after meals, they would go for a walk together. Gairo led the way, An’an followed closely behind, Maya had Tuntun at her heels, and trailing behind them was Shengsheng, still unsteady on his feet.

Whenever they went out for a walk, even if a predator that ate cubs spotted Shengsheng, it wouldn’t dare make a move under the watchful eyes of adult tigers.

Tuntun, who had nearly been scratched to death when he fought those creatures before, now saw them flee in terror at just one glare from An’an or Gairo. Seeing this, the little lion started dreaming big.

He wanted to eat more meat, grow strong like them, and then bring back lots and lots of cubs!

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, three years had passed. Tuntun was about to come of age, and Shengsheng had grown even stronger than Tuntun.

There was clearly something ambiguous in their relationship. If nothing unexpected happened, they would probably end up together.

When Shengsheng had just learned to walk, he and Tuntun once went out to play. They each carried a tiger cub back, planning to secretly raise them in the cave. But on the very first day, Gairo found out.

An’an went over and gave them both a beating. The two little lions didn’t dare make a sound.

Maya, however, was very open-minded. Raising one little tiger or raising a group of little lions—it made no difference. Judging by Tuntun and Shengsheng’s expressions, they were absolutely unwilling to abandon them.

She was already old. Among half-beasts, she was considered exceptionally long-lived. Her aging face carried a gentle kindness.

Maya had a strange feeling about the two new cubs they had picked up. She suspected they were half-beasts, as faint markings were already visible on their paws.

Having lived with Gairo and An’an for so long, Maya no longer saw her half-beast identity as a disadvantage.

She had a mind sharper than any beast, more dexterous hands, and a better ability to learn. In their small tribe, her contributions were significant.

Before, she had only taken in beast cubs, and she had been troubled about how to pass on her knowledge.

Perhaps because of their half-beast nature, the two cubs Tuntun and Shengsheng brought back preferred to stay with Maya. As soon as they learned to walk, they followed her around.

Gairo only cared about hunting and didn’t think much about anything else. But An’an was different. Though a beast, he was intelligent. Plus, he wasn’t originally from this world, so his thinking was often unconventional.

He felt that the world shouldn’t continue as it was now, and half-beasts and beasts shouldn’t be at odds.

Their family was proof—he and Gairo worked hard to hunt, but they both knew that Maya was the most important one among them.

A half-beast’s nimble hands, their ability to distinguish medicinal herbs, their careful handling of dried meat—these were things beasts could never do.

Rather than being enemies, An’an believed they were better suited for cooperation. They were both indispensable.

Fortunately, they were just a small group of beasts, so even if An’an’s thoughts were considered radical for this era, no one would gossip about it.

Gairo wasn’t the type to think deeply—he simply followed orders and relied on brute force. An’an, Tuntun, and the two new cubs had all been raised by Maya. To them, she was like a mother.

No matter how strong beasts were said to be, An’an and Tuntun were the perfect examples of getting smacked on the head and not daring to protest.

Maya taught the new cubs everything she knew. She could feel her body weakening day by day. Her strength was nowhere near what it used to be, let alone enough to compare with beasts.

She vaguely sensed that she was different from other half-beasts.

Maya didn’t want to see this hard-earned tribe fall apart after she was gone. So, she was determined to do her best in the time she had left.

She valued the bond she had built with Gairo and An’an over the years. But she also knew that besides emotions, they needed shared interests to stay together—stronger than ever.

The harsh weather that had once plagued the grasslands never returned, allowing them to settle down. From the start, when Gairo was just a lone tiger, to bringing back Maya and Anan, and later adding Tuntun and Shenshen, they had already formed a small tribe.

Maya did not want her departure to cause the people who had finally come together to separate again. She also felt deeply for the half-beasts living on the grasslands and could not bear to see them follow in her footsteps.

The two new cubs, for some reason, picked up a peculiar habit. The first time Anan took them hunting, they returned carrying a newborn cub that looked barely a month old.

Gairo never opposed this, and he was even curious about where exactly they kept finding these cubs. He hunted every day yet never encountered a single one.

Other than the headache of keeping track of so many cubs—aside from Anan and Tuntun, he could barely tell the others apart—it didn’t really affect Gairo’s daily life.

One by one, they carried back more cubs, and the number of beastmen in the tribe grew.

Many traditions are passed down naturally, and when people live together, habits are easily learned.

For example, to this day, not a single cub has successfully managed to warm its ice-cold paws by placing them on someone else after playing in the snow.

Even the cubs themselves couldn’t explain why they resisted doing it. They simply refused, though no one expected that it all started just because Anan was once throwing a tantrum.

Beastmen were generally impatient with tasks requiring care and attention. In contrast, half-beasts excelled at such things, able to handle even the most complicated matters with ease.

Powerful beastmen usually didn’t mind the status of half-beasts. Take Gairo, for example—seeing the cubs take care of all the tasks he hated, he practically wanted to bow down in gratitude.

The distribution of food initially started because Anan and Gairo respected Maya. Over time, it became a tradition.

Beastmen were responsible for hunting prey, but the right to distribute the food was held by the half-beasts.

Anan didn’t have any particular feelings about this. He simply found it more convenient to eat once the meat was divided, at least compared to how he used to eat before, getting his fur dirty in the process.

When training outside—whether hunting, gathering medicinal herbs, or patrolling the territory—if the beastmen ever came across abandoned cubs, they would unhesitatingly bring them back to the tribe.

The half-beasts gradually became accustomed to this and became highly skilled at caring for young cubs.

Although the beastmen were enthusiastic about picking up cubs, they were not without caution. Generally, they preferred to take in those younger than three months, who were clueless and easy to raise.

Beastmen older than three months, even if exiled, could survive on their own. Without the bond of having raised them, Gairo had no interest in watching them take food that should belong to his own tribe.

Later, when Tuntun came of age and officially became one of the beastmen, his beast form underwent a significant change. As a white-maned lion, he fully lived up to the title of the King of the Grasslands.

Shenshen also became a beastman upon reaching adulthood, a fact that left Tuntun in a state of depression for quite some time.

Eventually, the two cubs that Tuntun and Shenshen had picked up also matured, just as Maya had predicted—they were half-beasts.

Fortunately, they had learned from Maya for a long time, and their knowledge earned them the respect of all. In the eyes of the tribe’s beastmen, they were Maya’s successors.

Maya was already among the oldest members of the tribe, to the point where she was no longer allowed to go gather medicinal herbs.

This was the first time any of the beastmen had seen such an arrangement. Most aging half-beasts and beastmen met their end in battles against prey. Having realized this in their youth, they accepted it as an inevitable reality.

But now, Anan and Gairo willingly took care of Maya, who had lost her ability to hunt. Through their example, the other beastmen in the tribe gradually came to understand the bonds of emotion.

Maya rarely reverted to her beast form, instead remaining in her half-beast form. She often sat by the entrance, basking in the sun, gazing at the landscape, and recreating past memories in her mind.

Anan was heartbroken for a long time, but as he grew older, he gradually came to understand what parting truly meant.

Leaves wither and fall to the ground every year, decaying into nutrients that help trees grow stronger and sprout more beautiful leaves in the following spring. The vast majority of life in the world cannot escape this cycle.

Perhaps loved ones never truly leave—they simply stay by one’s side in a different form.

Maya spent a great deal of time with Anan. No matter how many more beastmen she raised later on, none could replace Anan’s special place in her heart.

Every time Anan returned from hunting, he would go find Maya to talk about the past. Gairo wanted to join them, but the cubs he had brought back had long since realized how easy he was to push around. They clung to him all day, using him as a plaything.

From a distance, he looked like a giant golden tiger with several fluffy young cubs hanging off him, all rowdy and mischievous. Yet Gairo dared not shake them off for fear of hurting them with his rough movements.

“Mama, do you think this winter will be very cold?”

The big tiger lay there with half-lidded eyes, lazily asking.

Maya raised her head, letting the warm sunlight fall on her face, and smiled as she replied,

“No, the Beast God will protect His people. Anan, don’t be sad. I have simply reached the age where I must return to the embrace of the Beast God.”

She bent down gently to remove the fallen leaves clinging to the white tiger’s fur, rubbing his head with a gaze full of warmth.

“No, Mama, you have to believe me—I’ll make sure you stay with me for a long time.”

In this world, Anan couldn’t find a way to extend lifespans, but he could make sure his mother had fewer worries and lived a comfortable life, so she could stay with him longer.

Seeing Anan’s stubborn expression, Maya sighed helplessly and pointed to a large tree in the distance.

“Anan, if one day I return to the Beast God’s embrace, when I miss you, I will become your favorite bird and perch on that tree.”

Maya was well aware that her body was deteriorating. In her memory, no half-beast had ever lived as long as she had.

The one thing she never regretted in this life was taking Anan in, even when she wasn’t sure she could raise him.

If not for Anan, she might have ended up like most half-beasts on the grasslands—dying at a relatively young age in some unknown place.

“I don’t want a bird—I want Mama.”

The big tiger buried his head in his paws, unwilling to let his mother see him cry.

Late autumn quickly passed, and the first snowfall arrived. No matter how many times the seasons changed, Anan still didn’t like winter.

He thought this winter would be like the many they had spent together before—less food but still enough to make it to spring.

What he didn’t expect was that without Maya’s help, the drying and preservation of food had not been done properly. Many of the dried provisions turned out to be spoiled.

They hadn’t checked carefully before, but now, as they noticed the strange taste of the food, they realized something was wrong.

Hearing about this, Maya had Anan help her over. She inspected the food over and over, frowning as she said,

“The meat wasn’t dried properly before being stored in the cave. With the occasional warm days in autumn, it has begun to rot.”

“The meat wasn’t properly air-dried before being stored in the cave. With the occasional warm spells in autumn, the meat ended up rotting.”

Much of the meat had become inedible. No matter how reluctant they were, they couldn’t eat it. Even the strongest beastmen would get stomach aches from consuming rotten, foul-smelling meat.

The beastmen responsible for drying the meat hadn’t anticipated this outcome. When Maya saw their pale faces, she took the initiative to comfort them.

“It’s okay. What’s done is done. Just remember not to make the same mistake next time.”

“I spent a long time learning these skills myself before I mastered them. You’ve only just started learning, so it’s normal not to do it perfectly.”

Maya’s gentle voice of reassurance only made the beastmen feel even more guilty. That very day, they went out hunting on their own initiative, bringing back fresh prey to make up for their mistake.

Maya methodically instructed the others to sort through the dried meat, picking out what was still barely edible and setting it aside. After categorizing everything, even Gairo—who wasn’t the sharpest—realized the severity of the situation.

Less than a third of the dried meat remained. If the entire tribe relied solely on it, it might not even last half a month.

“We’ll need to hunt more often.”

Maya sighed, feeling a pang of regret for not inspecting the meat more carefully earlier.

This was the harshest winter they had faced since deciding to settle here. Hunting now required multiple beastmen to go out together; otherwise, they would easily get lost in the snowstorms.

On top of that, prey had become significantly harder to catch compared to previous years. Whether due to environmental changes or other reasons, hunting had become much more difficult. Only An An and Tun Tun, with their naturally camouflaged fur, had an advantage. The others struggled and frequently got injured.

As more beastmen in the tribe started going hungry, the once lively atmosphere dimmed. An invisible cloud of gloom seemed to hang over the tribe.

There was nothing they could do except pray for winter to pass quickly.

An An had experienced hunger before, so he wasn’t too troubled by it now. Every day, he went hunting as usual, brought back prey for distribution, and then curled up in his mother’s cave to keep Maya company.

As she aged, Maya had grown more sensitive to the cold. An An snuggled up to her for warmth. For the first time, he realized that the thick fur he had grown to survive the winter also served another purpose.

That day, Maya leaned against An An. Even though her hearing had declined somewhat, she could still hear the rumbling of his stomach. She gazed at the beastmen bustling outside the cave and started questioning whether the choices she had made in the past were right or wrong.

If there weren’t so many beastmen to feed, An An wouldn’t have to go hungry. He wouldn’t have to work so hard, catching two prey and still not even getting half full.

“Mom, are you hungry? I’ll go grab some food for you!”

An An noticed Maya staring outside and immediately thought of this possibility. Without hesitation, he ran out, snatched a piece of meat, and placed it in front of her.

Maya chewed slowly, her teeth not as strong as before, requiring her to chew repeatedly. As she ate, she looked at the well-behaved tiger lying beside her and gently reminded him:

“In difficult times, don’t push yourself too hard. Your safety is the most important thing. It’s okay to go hungry.”

“I know, Mom.”

An An had heard similar reminders from Maya every time he returned, so he never doubted them. He wasn’t impatient either. Every word his mother said, he kept firmly in his heart.

“And also, stop bullying Gairo all the time. One day, he’ll truly get mad.”

“Mom, I don’t bully him anymore. I don’t even get the chance now.”

An An felt a little wronged. The younger cubs in the tribe now treated Gairo the same way he once had—seeing him as an easy target. Every time An An saw Gairo, he had at least three cubs clinging to him.

Maya saw An An’s aggrieved expression and was reminded of the past. Seeing her son pout, she said softly:

“Gairo has a good temperament. You used to like him a lot when you were little.”

“I liked bullying him.”

An An corrected her. He remembered how mischievous he had been as a cub, often pinning his misdeeds on Gairo and letting his mother scold him instead.

An An rarely reminisced about the past, but Maya’s words stirred those memories. He found himself lost in thought, recalling things that had once seemed insignificant.

Back then, it didn’t feel like much. But now, looking back, those times felt incredibly precious.

There weren’t so many clingy little beastmen back then. He didn’t have to hunt so much prey. Even catching a single rabbit would earn him praise from his mother and Gairo.

Most importantly… his mother had been young then. She could easily take him on long journeys.

“And also, harmony in the tribe is important. Don’t look down on or bully anyone. Fairness is the key to maintaining peace in the tribe.”

“Don’t keep suppressing yourself, An An. You are the most precious thing in Mom’s heart.”

“It hurts me to see you holding yourself back.”

Maya gently stroked An An’s head. To the rest of the tribe, An An was amazing—he could catch the most prey in the shortest time, and he had a good temperament, never fussing over small things.

If he had extra time, he would even go on extra hunts to help young beastmen who were still learning.

But Maya, who had raised him, saw things differently. She worried about her child, feeling that he was taking on too much. He didn’t have to work this hard.

“Mom, I’m not suppressing myself. I really like the cubs. I also love hunting. Seeing you and the cubs well-fed makes me happy.”

An An leaned his big head against his mother, hoping to cheer her up. Hearing her say she felt sorry for him made him happier than stealing honey from a bear.

“An An…”

Maya hugged his big tiger head and gently smoothed his fur. She was sensitive and perceptive, observing all of An An’s actions, yet she still didn’t fully understand what was truly in his heart.

“If this truly makes you happy, then of course, there’s no problem. I just don’t want you to do this for any other reason. To me, your happiness is the most important thing. Don’t take on too much responsibility.”

An An nodded seriously, showing that he had taken his mother’s words to heart.

“An An, I won’t always be with you. You have to learn to walk your own path and take care of yourself.”

“No, I want you to always be with me.”

The big tiger turned his head away in a sulk. His ears, which had been perked up to listen carefully, drooped down, as if sulking.

“Gairo and Tun Tun are your closest friends. You must cherish your bond with them.”

“My closest bond is with you, Mom.”

An An stubbornly refused to go along with Maya’s words. He was particularly rebellious at that moment, even pulling his head away to avoid her embrace.

That night, An An only got a small portion of meat, not enough to satisfy his hunger. But he was already used to this kind of life.

The wind and snow stopped during the night. The soft sound of his paws stepping on the snow wasn’t enough to wake anyone.