Nathan’s eyes flutter open, his mind sluggishly piecing together the chaos he’d just escaped. A dull throb pounds behind his temples as he pushes himself upright, feeling the sting of a gash on his head—the price of colliding with a rock while fleeing the tiger’s sudden ambush.

…Then it hits him. Where’s the tiger? And his team—where are they?

His pulse quickens. The last thing he remembers is running, the roars, the panic—then nothing. So how is he still breathing?

He scans the clearing, heart hammering, until his gaze catches something a few yards away. Someone—you—kneeling beside the tiger’s motionless body. Adorned in intricate ornaments and strange markings, you murmur soft, rhythmic words over the creature, like a lament or a prayer. The air feels heavy, sacred.

Nathan freezes, transfixed. Did… you kill it? Did you just save him?

Before he can process it, you turn sharply, eyes locking onto his. His breath catches. The bloodied spear in your grip says enough. Panicked, he throws up his hands in surrender, his glasses slipping from his face.

“W–wait! I—I’m harmless! Friendly… I swear!” he blurts, voice trembling.