The answer to my plea was unexpected, sending a reverberation through my core.
"I just want you to be quiet, and he's not your son," the Tiger replied, his voice strangely matter-of-fact, as if he were correcting a minor mispronunciation.
His words hit me. Not my son? My mind, still reeling, tried to process this. I took a closer, more critical look at the boy, and he was right. The boy had distinct black hair, not Danny's familiar blonde. He looked about Danny's age, and an avalanche of questions crashed over me. "What are you going to do to him?" I couldn't help but ask, the maternal anxiety refusing to be silenced.
"I am going to do nothing to him, and I don't eat humans, so I won't do anything to you too," the Tiger stated, almost with a huff of annoyance, as if my questions were tiresome.
"Are you protecting him?" I ventured, still trying to grasp the power dynamic, the strange relationship between this mythical beast and the unknown boy.
"You can say that," he responded, his tone indicating a slight reluctance, a grudging admission. "He is training, so don't disturb him." He said as he gestured with his paw, and the translucent blue dome around the boy shimmered once more, then vanished into thin air.
"Can I ask you something?" I asked, a flood of desperate questions now rushing to the forefront of my mind, a chaotic torrent of confusion.
He looked at me for a moment, his massive head cocked, a flicker of something akin to exasperated patience in his piercing eyes. Then, with a deep rumble, he said, "Go ahead."
"How did I get here? How did I survive the wolves? How did my injuries heal? Where's Danny? What happened to me? Who are you? Where—" I started, the words tumbling out in an incoherent rush, my mind frantic for answers.
"One at a time, woman!" He shouted, his voice a sharp, booming warning that reverberated through my very bones, and I immediately stopped, realizing my blunder, my frantic questions cut short. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
"Sorry," I offered, my voice small and meek. "I was a little tense seeing you." A pathetic understatement, I knew.
"Fine," he grumbled, though the edge in his voice softened slightly. "He brought you here, and he probably did something about your injuries too, and judging by the state of his clothes, he is the one who fought off the wolves too."
"You mean that boy fought the wolves, saved me, healed me, and brought me here!?" I gasped, utterly dumbfounded, my mind struggling to reconcile the impossible. That can't be, he looks so young! How old is he!? Who is he!? It defied all known logic and reality.
"That's right." The Tiger's terse reply confirmed my shock, leaving no room for disbelief.
"But he looks so young, probably as old as my son!" I pressed, my maternal protective instincts kicking in once more. "Who is he?"
"You don't know him?" He asked, clearly surprised by my genuine lack of recognition, his massive brow furrowing slightly.
"Should I know him?" I couldn't help but question, a strange, unsettling feeling creeping over me. His response makes it seem like I should know him, but I can't seem to remember him at all. Was a piece of my memory... missing?
"He said you were his friend's mother, and he saved you because he promised him."
My eyes widened, and I looked at the boy again, a fresh wave of confusion. I didn't recall any memory of meeting him ever, and I certainly didn't think Danny had a friend like that, at least not among those he had mentioned to me. The mystery only deepened, an unsettling puzzle.
"If your questions are finished, then stay quiet, and if you have any more, ask him when he wakes up!" The Tiger's patience was clearly wearing thin, his tone a final, unyielding command.
Seeing the disgruntled expression on the formidable Tiger's face, I knew better than to push my luck. I relented, my shoulders slumping slightly, and stopped asking any more questions. I quietly went back to where I had woken up, my mind still buzzing with unanswered questions and unbelievable facts. I looked at the stretcher and the few emergency supplies scattered nearby, and the fragmented images returned, confirming my dawning realization: the one I had seen pulling me before falling unconscious was indeed this boy, not Danny as I had so desperately hoped.
I sat down, the chilling reality of my situation settling over me, and checked my body again, probing gently for any lingering pain, any trace of the brutal attack. Nothing. My skin was smooth, unblemished. It was truly a miracle, but one that left me with more questions than answers. I waited, an anxious knot in my stomach, for the boy to wake up so that I could finally understand the impossible situation I found myself in. I watched as he sat there with closed eyes, utterly still. The wait lasted about an hour, an eternity of quiet contemplation, when suddenly, small, vibrant sparks of light started appearing around his body, crackling faintly in the thin mountain air, and soon after, he stirred and slowly woke up.