Once upon a time there was a little tiger with spots instead of stripes. A lot of animals mistook him for a cheetah... seeing as how he had spots. But his eyes were tiger eyes; his feet were tiger feet. His dreams were tiger dreams, and his family was a tiger family.
When he went out, he noticed how the other tigers looked at him sideways and always seemed to be conferring behind paws-on-mouths - a hasty, whispering buzz that sounded like rain far away. He tried not to let it bother him, but sometimes he felt very sad. And sometimes he felt very angry. And most of the time, he just felt very alone.
One day, as he was playing by himself near a lightening-cracked tree, he saw a giraffe with a short neck approach. She looked a bit like a spotted gazelle with very long legs... but the tiger knew she was a giraffe by her scent and by her eyes: deep brown and gentle with fringy-lace-lashes.
"Hello," said the giraffe.
"Hi," said the tiger.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Waiting, I guess," he replied.
"Waiting for what?"
"I'm not sure. Something new."
At that, the giraffe smiled and tilted her head to the side. She had been told not to play with tigers, but she felt there was something different about this tiger. She liked his spots, and she liked the shy way he looked down at his paws.
"I was going to go get a drink down by the river," she said. "Would you like to come with me?"
The tiger looked back at his village for a second... aware of what the others would say if he told them he'd gone walking with a short-necked giraffe; but he was feeling tired of trying to fit in and be something other than what he wanted to be. So he said yes, and off they went.
A spotted tiger and short-necked giraffe, each accepting the other for who s/he wished to be.
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