Miri walked the road to Helmsworth with a tiger at her side.
As one does.
The tiger moved with an easy, rolling grace, paws barely making a sound on the packed earth. He wasn’t leashed. Behr had explained it simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“He’ll hunt for himself. You don’t need to feed him unless you want to.”
The tiger’s ears had flicked at that, like he understood the conversation was relevant.
“He knows what’s his territory and what isn’t. Won’t attack livestock unless they’re threatened. Understands tone, intent, and simple questions. Yes or no.”
A pause.
“He does not understand taxes.”
That had gotten a snort out of Miri.
She’d tested it afterward, standing awkwardly in the yard with the fence half-repaired and the cubs finally herded back into the barn.
“Do you… want to come with me?”
He had looked at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, deliberately, he’d dipped his massive head in a single nod.
That had sealed it.
She’d tried another question, curiosity getting the better of her. “Do you have a name?”
The tiger had stared at her. She’d stared back.
Neither of them had known what to do with that, so she’d started talking instead.
“I wasn’t very good at making friends back home,” she admitted, eyes on the path. “I mean, I had one. My brother. That was kind of it.”
The tiger’s tail swayed lazily.
“I think Miss Jane might be a friend,” she continued. “And Tamsin could be. Maybe. She’s… intimidating.”
A pause.
“Behr and Aliah feel like they’re becoming friends too, which is weird because I’ve known them for like half a day.” She thought for a moment. "And I was unconscious for most of that."
The tiger huffed softly, something between a chuff and a purr. Miri smiled despite herself.
“I don’t really know how to make a friend on purpose,” she said. “Is that a thing you can do? Or does it just kinda happen?”
She hesitated, then glanced sideways at him. “Do you like treats?”
He cocked his head.
“…Belly scratches?”
Another head tilt. Thoughtful. Noncommittal.
“Okay,” Miri said. “We’ll workshop it.”
The gates of Helmsworth came into view about half an hour later, lanterns already lit as dusk settled in. The guards stiffened the moment they saw her.
Then stiffened a lot more when they saw what was walking beside her.
“Is that a tiger?”
Miri lifted both hands in a placating gesture. “It’s okay. He’s trained. I have paperwork.”
The tiger sat down obediently at her side, tail wrapping around his paws like he was trying very hard to be respectable.
One guard scanned the documents, squinting. “Ownership’s clear,” he admitted slowly. “But you can’t bring an animal like that into town without a registered collar.”
Miri frowned. “Even if I’m going straight to the tavern?”
The guards exchanged looks.
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“You bring a tiger into the tavern,” one of them said carefully, “and people will run out of there screaming about man-eating tigers and swearing they were thiiis close to being eaten alive.”
“He needs a collar, Miss.”
Miri sighed, then glanced down at her wrist.
The Collar of the Jack of Hearts felt warm as she unclasped it. She stepped closer and draped it carefully over the tiger’s neck. It would never latch around his huge neck—it was made for a house cat—but Miri let zero expression show on her face as she waved at the thin strap of leather as if it was buckled and all was acceptable.
“There,” she said. “Magical collar. He’s staying with me. Look—he’s sitting.”
He sat.
Patient. Regal. Perfect.
The small cat collar slid down the tiger’s back and fell to the ground. The guards stared.
“…We can’t make an exception,” one of them said weakly. “But—” He hesitated. “If Miss Jane walks in with him, maybe people won’t panic.”
The other guard nodded. “I’ll go get her.”
So Miri waited at the gate while the tiger leaned into her leg like this was all perfectly normal.
Maybe it was. She didn’t have a normal anymore. Did she want one? Regardless, if she was going to travel with a tiger at her side, waiting at the city gates while somebody ran for approval was definitely going to be her new normal.
She needed to get a real collar. She wondered how the tiger would respond to wearing it. Water. She would have to get a big water bowl. And she could probably store water in her inventory.
When the remaining guard cleared his throat and asked what was the tiger’s name, Miri answered automatically, distractedly, “Tony.”
The guard smiled. “Tony the Tiger. Nice.”
Miri froze. “…What?”
She replayed the last few seconds in her head and groaned, looking down at the tiger.
Tony flicked an ear.
“That’s just…” She hated herself. “Grrrreat.”
Miri buried her face in her hands as the perplexed guard looked on.
The other guard returned with Miss Jane moments later. She took one look at Tony before gasping in delight.
“Oh my stars,” she breathed, immediately dropping to her knees and burying her hands in his fur. “You magnificent creature.”
Tony purred. Loudly. Like an engine starting. He rubbed his massive head against her, tail swishing, utterly besotted.
Miss Jane laughed, beaming. “Yes. Yes, you’re coming with me. Miri, you’re getting the good room. The one with the private entrance.”
The guards watched the exchange with the haunted expressions of men who knew their superior would hear about this before they could report to him.
“Straight to the tavern,” one muttered. “No detours.”
“No detours,” Miri promised.
She snatched the collar off the ground and followed Miss Jane into Helmsworth with a tiger at her side.
At the inn, Miri closed the door behind them and leaned against it for a second. No knock came.
Miss Jane had escorted them from the gate, happily updating Miri on this week’s gossip. It was a nice interlude but Miri was nervous that she was about to cause an uproar at the tavern.
That concern was put completely to rest when Miss Jane simply walked into the tavern with a tiger at her side and said, calmly and clearly, over the rising murder of alarmed patrons:
“This is Tony.”
Chairs scraped. Someone dropped a mug. A laugh trailed off. Miss Jane didn’t spare the stunned audience a glance, didn’t pause for a moment.
“There will be no questions,” she added.
And that was that. She led them upstairs, patted Miri on the cheek, Tony on the head, and bid them a goodnight.
“I mean…” Now in their room, the woman and tiger regarded each other. Tony flicked one ear. Miri shook her head and moved across the room to unbar the small exterior door that led out into the fire escape. She opened it wide, cool night air spilling in.
“You can go out if you want,” she told him, trying very hard to sound casual. “I don’t know how… housebroken you are. Or if that’s even a thing for tigers. No pressure.”
Tony glanced at the open door. Then he turned in a slow circle and sat down.
Miri blinked.
“Okay,” she said. “Cool. Cool cool cool.”
She went about her nightly routine with exaggerated normalcy. Washing up, changing clothes, muttering about the weather and how Helmsworth really needed to update its alley lighting. She was acutely aware of the enormous striped presence watching her with mild interest.
“Do you… want the chair?” she asked at one point.
Tony yawned.
She finished, extinguished the lamp, and slid into bed, tugging the covers up to her chin. Tony remained where he was, a dark shape against darker wood.
Miri exhaled. “Goodnight,” she said softly.
There was a pause. Then the bed dipped.
Miri squealed as two hundred pounds of predator landed beside her, sprawling with the confidence of someone who would never think to question whether he was allowed to do this. He stretched out, pressed his side against hers, and let out a rumbling purr that vibrated straight through her ribs.
He smelled faintly of hay and livestock and something wild beneath it.
“Tony!” she hissed. “You can’t just—this is—”
He settled.
She lay there, frozen, heart hammering, then slowly—very slowly—relaxed.
Miri had to admit she had slept with worse.
“…Don’t hog the covers,” she muttered.
Tony did not move.
Miri closed her eyes, warmth at her side, and fell asleep.
