Soft, neon blue paper rests in the corner of a tan desk. A young hand slips a sheet off. He sets it in front of him and starts folding it.

  …

  …

  He sets the paper tiger next to its pride, grazing near a soft-gray pile of paper. A cub with a faint scar pouring down its front leg crawls out from the sandy grasslands. It runs to its mother, being chased by a silver cub.

  They circle around the mother’s feet before the scarred cub tackles the silver one; it playfully gnaws at the other’s ear.

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  HYA-HYA-HYA!!

  A few cackled-coded dogs erupt from their egg-yellow yard. The cubs run behind their parents.

  An older, ash-black tiger walks down from a nearby boulder. The hyenas stop. The tiger walks around the hungry clan, showing its charred back decorated with faint scabs of maroon-red.

  …

  …

  The boy marches the paper dogs back to their den.

  “Suraksha, Ratri.”

  The boy sets the ash-black tiger back on its rock.