Chapter 17

I watched the humans getting closer to my location. They seemed to be right on the other side of the tree now. At the same time, the Black Prowler stalked them. Its heart was thumping faster. Was it fear or excitement? I wanted to assume excitement, though it was three against one, so maybe the kitty would decide to lay low instead.

Come on, just attack them; be a good kitty!

If I got extremely lucky, the humans and the cat would kill or injure each other enough to no longer be my problem. Or I could slip away in the middle of the battle.

Then, Pulse Sense faded away, and I was blind to anything going on out there.

Damn it!

Checking my vitals, I was back to only 1 mana. It would be a long time before I had another Pulse Sense to rely on. Right now, all I had was the sound of their voices.

“I don’t get it. The damn beast should be right here.”

“How many Hell Hounds have you tracked before? Maybe you just don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Shut ya’ damn mouth, I tested it on the other pups. There’s no way I got it wrong.”

“Stay quiet, you two,” the female said. “Don’t forget where we are. There are high-level monsters crawling all over this damn forest.”

I saw a light pass over the hole below me.

“Na, not in there. Use your damn brain. Check the branches.”

The light disappeared.

Of course, they thought I was still stuck in the branches after the fall. They wouldn’t think I’d crawl up into the inside of the tree. No average self-respecting dog would ever even consider doing such a thing.

I suppose the threat of being eaten alive does have the potential to motivate one out of their comfort zone, though.

I shifted slightly, causing more bits of the rotted wood to fall around me. Soon the dust was tickling my nose once again.

Oh no! Don’t do it, Nose! Don’t sneeze now!

I flexed my nostrils and held my breath, trying to hold it back.

It was coming.

I clamped one paw over my nose in a desperate effort to suppress the sneeze, but it backfired as the shuffling caused me to slip just slightly and break off more dusty wood from around me.

Then—

“Chk’t-kuff.”

The voices stopped; all was silent. I don’t even think there was a single footstep, as I could imagine them all freezing.

They heard me. They definitely heard me! And if there was any doubt—

“What was that?”

The light went over the bottom of my hole once again.

No, no, no! Please just go away!

Boots crunched closer, the light got brighter, and then a shadow moved over the opening below me.

Then, a face loomed in the opening. The grinning red mask stared in at me, its hollow eye sockets swallowing the light. A hand shot in, rough fingers clamping around my hind leg.

“Ha! Got the damn beast!” the man shouted, yanking me down hard. My claws scraped uselessly at the wood as I was dragged from the hollow, splinters raking my belly.

I kicked and writhed, but his grip was too strong. My heart pounded, terror flooding me. I moved to try to bite his arm, but he grabbed my scruff in a way that limited my head movement. Still, I tried to turn and kick as he held me out at arm's length.

“Haha! Feisty mutt!” he growled. Then, he slammed me into the smooth bark of the tree, pinning me there. The initial slam hurt, but now that he had something to hold me against, I had even less ability to fight back.

I hated how weak I was compared to these damn humans. I was still just a puppy, if I had a little more time to train, they could never just manhandle me like this!

I growled, hackles raised, and tried to shift again, but he just held me tighter.

“Alright, alright, nuff of this.” The man holding me said. “Someone give this mutt an attitude adjustment.”

“On it,” the woman said, pulling a baton from her side.

I watched, my head pinned against the tree and growling. Then, purple sparks of energy that I remembered all too well began dancing along the baton’s tip. I remembered when the bat riders were trying to poke my mom with longer versions of what she now held.

I let out a threatening bark that simmered into a growl, curling back my lips to show all of my teeth.

“Now listen here, pup,” the woman said, coming closer. “You behave, and things will be easy on you. You keep up the attitude and—”

She jammed the baton into my side. Instantly, I felt the electricity coursing through me, locking my limbs and sending this painful burn running along my veins.

I yelped in pain; she pressed harder. I cried and thrashed more until my body gave up on resisting. The whole process lasted maybe a few seconds, but it was enough to drain the fight out of me.

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She removed the baton, and I was left hanging there limp. Soft whimpers escaped me.

“See? You fight us again, and there is gonna be more of that,” she said, returning the baton to her side.

The other man, who had been standing away watching the dark shadows of the woodland, said, “Just be careful. It’s small and worth a ton. Be worth less if we injure it, and looks like it's already in bad shape.”

“Let me see her,” the woman said. The man holding me then held me out by my scruff with one hand, and I just dangled there, unable to summon any will to fight back with the lingering burning sensation still running through my body.

The hollow eyes of the woman’s mask looked me up and down, taking note of my matted fur, particularly around the wound the Night Harrier had given me, which looked even worse with all the dusty tree rot that was all over me.

“Yeah,” she said. “We’re damn lucky the thing survived that fall. Glad coming down here wasn’t a waste of—”

“Look out!”

The warning came too late.

A blur of lithe muscle tore free from the shadowy undergrowth, the Black Prowler roaring as it slammed full-body into the man holding me. His grip on my scruff fell loose, and suddenly I was weightless, flung sideways as the beast’s claws raked him open like paper. Blood sprayed, hot and thick, spattering across my fur. His scream cut off with a wet crunch as fangs closed around his throat.

I hit the ground hard, rolling in the dirt. My limbs still shook from the baton’s sting, but instinct forced me up onto trembling paws.

The other man shouted, pulling a spear free from a holster on his back. The woman snapped her baton up, purple lightning crackling alive again. Both lunged forward.

The Black Prowler slashed its claw at the spear, the man jumping back as if his attack were just a feint. It caused the prowler to expose its side, where the woman jammed her baton into its muscled abdomen.

The cat let out a snarl of pain, but it wasn’t enough to stop it. It whirled around, claw barely raking across the woman’s chest armor and tearing the clothes that hung over top.

She grunted from the impact, the blow not breaking through to skin but still causing her feet to retreat sloppily. But she recovered, finding purchase and lunging forward with her baton again.

This time, the cat was ready. It pivoted to the side, the charged baton slipping past the side of its thick neck, then it hooked its open jaw to the left and grabbed the woman by the elbow.

“Aaaah!” she screamed as it yanked her off her feet, bone cracking, and slammed her into the ground. It pinned her down, giant paws holding her under it as its neck tore back and ripped her arm free into two parts.

She never stopped screaming, her mask pushed askew, but her other hand grabbed for a knife at her side, and she jammed it into the creature's neck.

It roared, slamming another paw down on her, this time tearing through armor and spraying more blood.

She continued jabbing the knife at its neck with every ounce of her willpower, despite herself being mutilated. I almost could have given her some respect if it weren't for using that baton on a defenseless puppy!

The other man stabbed the prowler's back with his spear. The cat whirled around, a swipe of its claw breaking off the tip but leaving its metal end still embedded. It lunged at the man, barely missing.

[Achievment! Enemy of my Enemy]

Sometimes survival means letting your enemies tear each other apart while you slip away in the chaos.

Minor bonus to all stats.

I realized I'd better get out of here.

I’d gathered my wits and had seen enough. I knew better. That giant horned cat didn’t get involved because it felt bad for me. It wasn't my friend. It was frustrated that it had to work so hard for its prey and didn’t want to see someone else come along and snatch it up.

I could completely understand that. I considered the time I dug up that mole thing with Lily’s help. It was such an effort, and if someone were to snatch it away from us after we worked so hard, I’d be furious, and I’d fight with everything I had to reclaim my kill. I bet that is exactly how the Black Prowler felt.

I scrambled into the underbrush, the shakiness in my limbs working themselves out now that I was moving, and when I turned back, I saw the man getting tackled and the Black Prowler’s claws dug furiously at him. He screamed, his armor being ripped through and his body flayed. A few more swipes and the screams stopped.

The Black Powler let out a snort that sounded almost like a sigh and cracked its neck. It had been badly wounded itself with multiple stab wounds in its neck and flank.

Another scream, more like a battle cry, brought my attention back to the woman. She only had one arm, the other ending in a bloody, torn stump, but she raised her dagger high as she lunged at the prowler and leapt on top of it.

It was slow to move around this time thanks to its many injuries. She locked her legs around its sides and repeatedly stabbed the knife into the back of its neck and head.

It snarled and thrashed, trying to buck her off, but it had clearly grown weaker itself. After several more vicious stabs, it finally fell limp. It collapsed to the forest floor without another sound.

The woman was breathing heavily, and she forced herself to her feet. She moved her dagger towards its sheath on her side but missed and it fell unceremoniously amongst the vines. She stumbled towards the tree and fell against it, then lowered herself until she was sitting. Sliding down the tree left a trail of blood, showing just how badly injured she was.

She let out a dry chuckle. She sounded very weak. “Huh… leveled up from that damn thing. Fucking ironic.”

Her hand reached up to the mask, searched around the side for something, maybe a clip or a strap, and then she pulled it off along with the headdress and dropped it to the ground beside her.

I was taken aback by how normal she looked. Her face was exactly as I remembered human faces being. Tanned skin, blonde hair done up in braids so it stayed tight to her head, and blue eyes.

She looked at her severed arm, reaching her other shaking hand to it. With a touch and a wince, she let herself fall limp against the tree again. “I knew coming in here was a bad idea…” she muttered.

She was dying, but I couldn’t find it in myself to feel sorry for her. She was one of them, one of the red masks, and I still felt the burn of where she jammed that baton into me. My dad was dead; he'd been pinned down and mercilessly pierced with spear after spear. As for the rest of my family, if they were still alive, they were probably under these people’s control. Any act of defiance or failing to show complete subservience would probably get them the same treatment she gave me with that baton.

That made me madder than anything. I could just imagine one of my brothers or sisters being shocked the same way I was.

Now, here this woman was, bleeding out and dying, but I felt absolutely no pity for her. I felt quite the opposite. I only felt hate.

I let a low growl sneak out of my throat.

The woman’s eyes instantly shot over to me… and she smiled.

“You caused a lotta trouble for me ya’ lil’ mutt.”

Don’t you dare smile at me!

I barked at her, hackles raised, showing her my hate.

Yet, the way she looked at me. It was almost like she was amused. It made my hate grow thicker.

“Fine,” she said, shifting her position and then pushing herself up. “Lotta other tribes don’t get it, ya’ know. Monsters…” She took a heavy step forward, then another. Blood was dropping all around her as she moved. She was going for her dagger that lay halfway between us. “You monsters understand things. You’re not mindless, instinctual… whatever. You’re not confused about what happened.”

She bent down to pick up her knife, but her leg buckled and she ended up falling to her knees. “Damn it! Almighty forsake this whole fucking vale,” she groaned.

A shaky hand reached out for her dagger, and as soon as her fingers clenched around it, the shaking stopped and she held it firmly.

Then her eyes came back to me with a ferocity I didn’t expect.

“You bastards would do the exact same to us, and you’d know exactly what you’re doing. So come on…” She pointed the dagger at me, her tone suddenly raising to a yell. “Bring it on ya’ half-sized mutt! You’re mad about us taking out your pack? Then go ahead and try to finish me! Come on! It doesn’t get any easier than this!”