Posts by Danger Days

A young feline followed the sounds of the bandits. He was told to follow their every move, learn their way and their power. His olive eyes flashed towards the sound of one of the bandits flying passed him almost literally as he ducked into cover of a holly bush. He focused on them, almost without interest. He felt deep down that this was unnecessary. But nothing stopped him from holding the dagger that he held. His paw clenched onto it tightly, jumping when he heard someone yell behind him, forcing him to go. He went forward and rushed himself through the clearing in front of him, holding fast to the brush and the tree. He looked down, a stream of red lay across the floor beneath him. He looked at it and traced it to one of the bandits he had followed there. His eyes widened and clenched on tighter to his dagger, feeling a mix of fear and anger. The tiger boy shuddered, hearing the sounds of fighting. The small dagger, in his grip, poked him, making him yelp out and drop the weapon, unharmed, but overall flustered.

In a short moment, his eyes locked with Swisp. After his momentary hesitation, the young tiger dove back towards where he saw the other bandit hid and disappeared into the holly bush, the prickly, dark green leaves hid him as he attempted to get away from the enemy. He had hoped she didn't see directly where he went, because his entrance to his hiding spot was around a blind spot. His fur was poked and stung by the sharp leaves. He held in any cry of pain as he finally realized he dropped his dagger on the ground when he poked himself. He felt his heart race as he realized he was defenseless and his side was falling quickly.

Still fine, safe and unharmed he felt a couple warm tears run down his face, a hand over his maw to not make any noise. He could smell the sickly scent of blood. Since he wasn't injured, to his knowledge, and felt no pain, this wasn't his blood. That blood was somebody's. Which was probably worse than had it been his own. Blood meant death usually, when in that amount, and he knew it was either the enemy's or one of the bandit's blood. He didn't know who though.

Sitting in the holly bush, all by himself as he hears loud cries and screams, not sure from who or where the source is. The young boy wiped away his tears, looking at his forepaw where it was red, blood covered from the spot he rested his hand. He looked out of slits in the branches that surrounded him and held him in his hiding spot. He peered out of the leaves and saw more fighting, more pain. He shook his head to shake the sight from his eyes. He attempted to drain out the sound by letting out a soothing hum from the days he was still with his mother. A comforting song she hummed to him. He closed his eyes, the tune filling him, though not completely drowning him out, it did sooth his fear.

As he felt his body get lifted from the bush harshly, the tiger felt his fur and skin scrape the branches and leaves. He yelped out again, feeling multiple stings on his arms, legs, face, and chest. Harekin had just grasped onto his dagger and, in terror of the two, raised his weapon and threatened to stab it at them. The tiger looked at them, panting, heart racing. He had no idea what would happen next. Would they kill him? Was he going to be rescued? Would they use him as some sort of trade like some stories he heard said.

Around a mile away, the road stretched out beneath the feline's paws. He dragged on, eyes drooping. He felt his legs start to jitter and his arms start to shake. He felt tears dripp from his eyes. Harekin stopped, kneeling to the ground, placing a paw on the ground and one on his chest. The tiger looked around, shaking. He heard a loud bang and let out a deathly cry, somewhat gurgly, and definitely uneathly.

Head bobbing up to see what it was, he saw large ship cross the sky, smashing down towers man spent years building. He placed a paw on the window, heart racing. He took a deep breath and watched as people screamed, running every which way, no escape. A family of goats in their town car, getting out of the vehicle suddenly crushed by the beams of the fallen tower. An elderly fox being dragged by a younger otter, hit by a car thats trying to escape. Harekin pulled from the window and felt the house shudder and looked at his nice 23rd floor apartment he shared with a lovely wolf. He grabbed a framed picture of the two at the park, the day he was proposed to, the year before.

Blinking, eyes dialated, he heard his own voice screaming. His muscles weak as he brought himself up to his feet. He grew quiet, he had to have been their for a mere 5 minutes doing that before he trecked on.

Minutes more, he came to a couple of houses.

There was a weariness about the tiger as he entered the once inhabited area. His shoes scuffing the ground with each dragging step. Harekin's eyes, looking onward to the houses, watered up. He imagined families with children and grandparents and happy times. His ears twitched, the vision fading as he felt the pain in his stomach that he had felt for a long time now give a friendly reminder that he was a goner is there was no food anywhere.

Approaching the first of the coupled houses, there was a door that had a lovely embroidary over the glass door. Something he would have gawked at when the world was alive. He now just pushed through the door and entered. He could smell the dirt, rotting wood. A smile actually appeared on the feline's muzzle as he realized he couldn't smell any signs of death. Perhaps it was good. Maybe the family got out, or survived. Something, perhaps. His heart sunk, taking a few more steps into the living room as a squeak under his shoe sounded. A tiny teddy bear was there, along with broken glass and pictures. He couldn't even imagine what happened. Nor did he want to.

Taking his focus into a diversion, he went to the kitchen, getting into the cabinets. His eyes searching for even tiny scraps. Cans, boxes, anything. There had to be something. Climbing the shelves, almost he let out a loud cry when nothing appeared at first. Looking down, he turned away, something cylindric caught his sight and he recognized it. A can of spagetti-o's. He giggled, shaking his head as he saw the smiling little O with the tail, waving joyously to person who got the can. So different things were. He went to the drawrs and found a manuel can opener and popped it open. Tossing the can opener to the ground, he chugged the can of food down his gullet. He let out cries of relief, tear streaming down his face. He haden't eaten in weeks, not since the city.

He didn't want to go there again. He, himself, could smell the rank breathe he had. He felt himself more hopeful that the other houses had something. He looked across the street. The house across the way could be promising.

On his way out, closing the door, he heard a sudden and loud beeping noise behind him. He had somehow tripped the alarm that the house had.