cairo of tribunal

The shack was down from the commons. Samantha makeshifted a leash, it was time for a sabbatical at sunrise. She was sly in convincing Cairo the cub into the leash with the promise of tuna. She'd have to make good was the realisation. A feeling dawned that baby probably had an appetite. The bengal cub who'd arrived trolling trash in the twilight. Her adoptive project.

It was perfect wear out the tiger and the teething would cease. Little did she realise the tenacity of Tiger. In addition the logistics of disguise. She could hardly go for a constitutional in a public park with an endangered kitten. No matter how kewl the cat. She had a friend at the meat market who owed her a favor. It was a symbiotic deal. They were both wanted and ageless. The water dish drained near instantaneously with the tongue.

Motherhood was intimidating. She hardly remembered her own mother. Sometimes she doubted the image in her mind was even mom; it could have been a juxtapose of ideal mom. I mean Samantha was a child over a thousand years ago. At least she guestimated. It was like the memories of history, she often figured her interpretation was a mix of reality and revision . She wondered if there was a degree of amnesia. Her memories of 1890 were actually the fictionalized / modernized versions of some semblance of reality.

Cairo was properly fitted in makeshift cloak. Red velvet.

"Little red riding hood, you'll be a good errr..... baby boy.
No.... what the hell do tiggers do growl? Roar, no your too young for a roar."
she held cairo to her face.
Sandpapering ensued.
An inadvertant french kiss.