Tiger was your ordinary silkwing, not a flamesilk, not a fugitive, not a green-stuff junkie, not anything special.

Except that he had extra flexible wings. 

But no-one cared. They treated him like any other silkwing. 

Until he saw a whole hive command. He acted foolishly. Or brave. What the Heck?! This is NOT normal. Did they do this? Who's controlling them. I need to go somewhere where they can't find me. Like the Poison Jungle. 

Tiger was a Jewel Hive silkwing, and there was pandemonium because Lady Jewel's daughter, Honeybee, had run away. 

So he flew all the way to The Poison Jungle, for protection. Until Honeybee arrived, he would live in the Poison Jungle.

Yet when he arrived, he quickly found out that it was the worst possible thing he could have  done. There were vines catching his wings, bugs biting, and worst of all: illness.

But there was no-one to help.

No-one to care.

Or to hear.

No-one.