How the tiger had gotten there wasn’t important, Popion explained. What was important was the fact that it was there. And it was very much there, prowling beneath them, watching them with a hungry eye.

Udell swung his feet over the edge of the shed roof they had clambered atop in the immediate panic, practically tempting the great beast to leap up and take out a good chunk of flesh. Of course, his legs were too short to provide such a risk any real chance of occurring, but the mere act gave the boy an empty rush that, while baseless, proved undeniably exciting.

Udell pumped his legs lazily as Popion and Dice argued beside him. Dice was attempting to figure out what need they had for a trained tiger in the first place, while Popion was reminding him that the circumstances that had brought the tiger into their home were no longer important. As Udell barely listened to the two bicker, he began to sense a familiar pattern. It seemed as if Popion would always do something utterly ridiculous and life-threatening, while Dice would voice his reason for too late and he was left to watch the events unfold with a sort of detached interest.

The tiger spun itself around in a slow circle several times before curling up at the foot of shed. Udell frowned at the monstrous creature, realizing for the first time that what had at one point seemed absurd and interesting had reached a point of repetitive monotony. He got to his feet, wandered over to the other side of the relatively small roof, and sat down to brood.
“We’ll just wait for winter to come,” Popion reasoned. “The stupid thing will just freeze to death for fly south.”