Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 2 -1 2019 | Page 136

It wasn’t long before we saw another land. It was night time, and the stars twinkled above us. The
ship parked near the shore, and all climbed off. A loud growl was heard, and it lingered in the air for a
while.
“Shush,” Ming hissed. “I see something.”
We tiptoed behind a tree and saw it. A liger the size of a garbage truck was busily grooming itself, grunting
as it smelled our salty, sweaty scent. It turned its head, its amber eyes glaring at us.
“RAAAARRRR!” it roared, padding over.
It licked the tree, and it ripped straight off the ground and landed next to the liger. It bared its teeth at us;
then it prepared to pounce and squash all of us with its gigantic belly. Luckily, we acted quick and sprinted
like we never sprinted before. We climbed aboard, and Ming ran to the wheel. The liger swiped. The hull
had a giant hole as the ship zoomed off. David, the professional mender, rushed over and patched up the
hull in a flash. We continued sailing.
“Hey,” I said, walking over to Ming.
She turned around and smiled wryly.
“Well, Cerise. You did great. Let’s go.”
The ship docked by the pier of China, our home. I was satisfied about that, as the boat ride was so bumpy I
could’ve passed out the whole trip. Now, shall I tell you the name of that land we last discovered? We called
it Africa.