The Lullaby That Wouldn't Lull

Mama Tiger, her big, striped tail twitching with a mixture of love and exasperation, settled onto the soft rug beside Roary’s play area. The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, and the jungle was quieting down. But Roary? Roary was still a whirlwind of stripes and energy, batting at a dangling feather with the ferocity of a seasoned hunter.

“Alright, my little firecracker,” Mama Tiger purred, her voice as smooth as the moonbeams beginning to peek through the canopy. “It’s time for a very special song. A song to help you drift off to dreamland.”

Roary paused his feather-pouncing, his bright green eyes already full of mischief. “Dreamland? Is that where the giggling butterflies live?”