This is the revised song of Butchers-Cattle, a Khan-ikthya. A feline bred weretiger, Butchers-Cattle originally wrote the song as a theme of pride for the Khan. The original song is in white. When he fell to the unmaker and became a servant of the Wyrm, he added much to the song, presented here in blue. He claims that the song is a "great lie," and that what is in parenthesis is the "great truth of the Tiger Tribe."
Song of the Tiger, by Butchers-Cattle
My stripes are long, my fur is soft, (And though my claws are long as well,)
My tribe is all at highest loft, (Above the teeming pits of Hell.)
My mother born as free as wind, (Unless you count her cage and bars.)
My father rarely ever sinned, (The only witness was the stars.)
My sisters are all pretty cats, (Rugs and furrs and trophys all,)
My brothers are above hunting rats. (Exotic pets are what they're called.)
My pride is in my freedom now, (Earned in blood from many a friend,)
To break it I will not allow. (Unless you face me with my end.)
Greatly I value my own life, (More than that of human kind,)
More greatly I wish to end all strife. (At least the strife that I can find.)
Our kind are sent to cull the weak, (And weaker still we have become,)
Although our outlook is always bleak. (Of all the Bete we are only some.)
The end is near, and soon to be, (If it has not already passed,)
Close your eyes and you will see. (That sight will then be your last.)
My stripes are long! My fur is soft! (And though my claws are long as well,)
The Khan are all at highest loft! (Above the teeming pits of Hell!)
