Beauty and the buffalo

Chief Tiger Beauty stood on The Opening, the thin line devoid of any trees which separated her forest from that of the lions, a buffalo carcass draped across her back.

It was partially eaten.

Beauty's counterpart, Lion Paramount Sikandar stared at the bloody remnants, his lips pursed in displeasure and contemplation.

"This was a breach. We had agreed no more killings on The Opening. Yet, here we are. Your buffalo trespassed into our forest and attacked eight of our tigers," Beauty said, meeting Sikandar's gaze with equal intensity. The lion may be more powerful, but in The Opening they were all equals. The fastest swipe wins all.

"This was a holy creature," Sikandar replied. The implication hung heavy in the air.

Pointing towards the gaping hole in the buffalo's belly, Sikandar said, "A little heavy-handed, do you not agree?"

"Forty-nine tigers were killed by your creatures here last year. Sometimes because they chose to drink from the water here. Was that not heavy-handed?"

Sikandar seemed to consider the statement. His eyes narrowed, piercing into Beauty's. Don't blink, she told herself. Sikandar could smell fear and intimidation. He would feast on other's doubts. Don't blink. Don't second guess yourself.

"My creatures will go to war over this. I cannot hold them back. Plus, they will take it out on the tigers on our side of the forest," Sikandar said.

"Neither of us can risk a war at this moment. The goats, the bears and the birds will use that to cause us even more harm."

"Then reach a compromise."

"What?" Beauty asked, her annoyance now red on her face.

"You take back your tigers from our side of the forest."

"They are not of our tribe. It cannot be done," Beauty replied. Even at that moment, Beauty knew this was not what Sikandar wanted. He just wanted to be refused first, for he knew no one would refuse him a second time.

"Then the water. Your creatures come here on the pretense of drinking water and then fraternise with the tigers on this side, trespassing along the way. We take the water and they have no reason to come around," Sikandar replied.

He seemed so cock-sure of a brilliant move having been played. Beauty's whiskers bristled in anger.

"We need the water too," she said. Indeed, while the Tigers were blessed with plenty of water bodies, most were dying. This was no time to give up on a water source.

"Then you should not have killed a holy creature and insulted our gods," Sikandar growled, his cadence rising.

He then suddenly looked up, as if mulling a decision. Beauty was sure whatever would be tossed her way would not be a compromise but rather crumbs to pretend an equal diplomacy existed.

"You can have the water for three months. April, May and June."

Sikandar had given her creatures access to water during the rainy season. The one time they would not need it.

She nodded, signalling acceptance. What else was there to do? In the jungle, the lion is king.

Chief Beauty then motioned to retreat, taking the carcass back to her side.

"Stop. Will you not return our creature?" Sikandar asked.

"The buffalo never existed. He never came here. He never died. Enjoy your water," Beauty said as parting words.

In the jungle, the lion is king. But the tiger is a guerrilla and its time would come.