[M] Prey IC

[Auki]

Rated [M] for possible violence, gore, drugs, alcohol, sex, animal-testing and the like

Prey:

Somewhere within the Grand City's Breeding Facility:

David scampered after his Captain anxiously, the files he held constantly trying to escape his grasp. He winced as his shoes squeaked on the floor, fearful that he would drag his leader from his thoughts. Thankfully, the Captain didn’t break stride. Minutes passed in silence as they wandered the halls – David, new to the organisation, had no idea where they were going.

“We’re going to find them.” The Captains voice was loud, echoing in the empty corridors. Normally the building was full, with Hunters and the like, but today everyone was on patrol.
“Sir?” David asked nervously.
“The Prey, son, we’re going to find them all soon.”
David blinked, “You mean Mission 710, sir? It really was a success? I heard we captured and killed over 3000 herbivores in the Eastern Regions.”
The man in front shook his head slowly, “No…Not that…” They turned off into a large room, one of the many used for breeding. The space was packed with cages – David glanced into one, Rabbits…

For a few lucky herbivores, they were kept alive and used to breed. Their children were eaten of course, but the parents were allowed to survive for a limited time. Why his leader had entered such a filth-ridden room was a mystery. The Captain didn’t pause, his steel-capped boots clicking on the stone floor. His voice was almost distant when he spoke,
“Son, the reproduction of our race is complex. When two humans in their natural form breed, they more often then not produce a healthy child but, the child may be a herbivore or a carnivore, regardless of its parent’s species… However, when two humans of the same species reproduce in their animal form, they are guaranteed to get a child of the same animal.”
“And that’s why we have these breeding rooms, sir,” David interrupted. The Captain glanced back, dark brown eyes directing their hard gaze towards David for just a moment.
“That’s true, son…But there’s one fatal flaw.”
The Captain finally stopped in front of the largest cage, one that contained the newly born children, and he sighed.
“The second generation that are produced are just dumb animals…And they are all born infertile.”
David had realised where his leader was going with the conversation.

“We’re running out of food, aren’t we Sir?” He said quietly, and flinched when his Captain nodded.

“However, son, we have reason to believe that the Prey are hiding something from us.”
“But the herbivores are so few and far spread now, sir.”
“It’s naïve of you to think that, son,” His leader gave a dark chuckle, “Herbivores are born with the instinct of how to hide, of how to escape. We’re sure there are more out there than we know of - Waiting in the shadows, just hoping to avoid notice. We need them all found if we hope to survive the next few years.”

The Captain paused, “And on top of that, we’ve affirmed they have something that could save us carnivores from starvation.”

----

Somewhere on the northern streets of the Grand City:

Darnel grimaced and once again, turned over the crumpled letter clenched in his hands, the one that had been slid under the apartment door just a month ago - The writing on it hastily scribbled and some words barely legible. He remembered that as soon as he had deciphered the message, he had grabbed his bag – tattered and black, it currently resided thumping softly against his thigh at every step, the weight of its contents tugging at his shoulder – and swiftly tipped his assortment of belongings into its hold. Essentials like food and water were thrown in first, followed by a jumble of hair products and other merchandise needed to keep himself presentable.

Well, presentable was probably the wrong word. Any self-respecting man would be disgusted at his array of piercings and inked markings but to him, it gave him that rugged look he had always longed for. The display was only ruined slightly by the hot pink streak in his hair, as well as some of the tattoos down his back and arms that flaunted the same colour.

The next thing Darnel had shoved into his bag were his clothes, all of them torn in various places. Last of all, he had gently lain a bracelet within the bag, a sad expression on his face. The bracelet in question was in fact a length of string sown through a rainbow of plastic beads. It wasn’t particularly pretty or well made, but he still cherished it. The piece of jewellery had been his fifteenth birthday gift from Penny, his little sister. A knot of sorrow twisted within his stomach as he had thought of her, kidnapped and carted off to the breeding facilities all those years ago, but it was that ball of forlorn emotions that kept him struggling to find a place where Prey would be free. With his bag packed, he had waited.

Strolling down an alleyway, attempting to appear as inconspicuous as possible, he couldn’t help but smile. He had been hiding for so long, barely able to leave the house in case someone noticed his scent. If someone identified Prey on the street, the herbivore was likely to be torn to shreds where it stood, attacked by the starving carnivores that surrounded it.
Yet tonight, he was able to walk in the air, feel the wind, comforted by the thought that he was going to meet others like him. Darnel couldn’t remember the last time that he had caught scent of a human and known they wouldn’t eat him given the chance. To see others that had survived the past two years would give him hope that they would be able to escape the city and find a haven for themselves. Heck, they might even find Paradise.

Looking up he saw the occasional curtain twitching and his breath quickened. He hastily reminded himself of the fact that he was wearing so much after-shave, and a decent amount of lion-scented perfume, that those watching him probably wouldn’t be able to smell his species even if they were standing right beside him.
The scent was a little overpowering, but at least it was keeping him slightly more protected from passers-by. It was at times like this that he was thankful his quirk was so easy to control. Kissing was not something he had ever done with frequency – Either the girls he liked hated him or when fooling around, they just skipped the kissing part. As such, it was easy to make sure he never transformed into his given animal without wanting to. Other people probably weren’t so lucky – He had once been friends with a girl named Stella who had had the misfortunate to morph into a rabbit whenever she turned left. With such a difficult quirk to handle, Darnel doubted she was still alive.

Stepping out onto the main road, he checked the street name without breaking stride and continued into another alleyway opposite. He was close to the meeting place now. Excitement bubbled in his stomach but it was nervous excitement. His smile turned into a small frown. They’re all going to hate me, aren’t they? He thought, I mean, I’ve never been great at making friends or anything. He clicked his tongue as he contemplated the situation. Maybe I should actually try this time…try to be nice and all that.

His smile returned, tinged with amusement, Even if I try, I guarantee they’ll hate me.

Darnel was usually fine with being disliked; he deserved it for the most part. However, at the same time, he knew how important teamwork was going to be. Turning round the corner, he came face-to-face with the back door of the White Stag Inn and slipped inside without bothering to knock. The room he found himself in was a storage cupboard and he grimaced at the amount of dust that lined the shelves. It was obvious the building had not been occupied in months. Exiting the cupboard, he found the corridor to be just as dirty.

“Who’s there?”

The voice came from the room at the end of the hall and Darnel froze. From what he could tell, the voice’s owner was a woman, not particularly young. It sounded threatening but also tired. He fiddled with the doorknob behind him, considering running away. But if he did, then what? This was his last chance at escape. Whether it was a trap or not, wasn’t it worth the risk?

“My name’s Darnel, ma’am,” he said, a little less confidently then he’d have liked, walking carefully forwards. The woman’s head popped around the doorway and he jumped.
“They’ll be no calling me ma’am – Lord, it’d do my head in. My name’s Bertha, you can call me that.” She paused, looking him up and down, “Well, do you intend to come in, Darnel? You’re the first one here. Tea will be ready in two minutes – If you’re hungry, feel free to raid the cupboards.”
“T-Thank you,” he muttered, his heart still racing. He walked quickly, having to edge through the doorway sideways to get past Bertha’s plump body. She gave him a disapproving look but didn’t comment. The room he entered, which happened to be the kitchen, was much cleaner than the others, although a thin layer of dust still clung to the surfaces. A table was set in the middle of the room and he sat on one of its chairs cautiously, wincing as it squeaked under his weight.

“As soon as the others arrive, we can begin to talk. I have things to prepare. ”

With that, Bertha left the room, almost slamming the door behind her. Darnel’s fingers tapped on the table, his nervousness reappearing as he sat there alone in silence, unsure of what to do.

[ILYTH]

The dull shabby walls of his small stinking apartment, right there with the wet patch that always seemed to arrive with the dawn and retreat by noon. This was same sight that had greeted Aston every day of his adult life, one of the many troubles of being forced into a life of a hermit. Aston survived as a herbivore in a carnivore’s world by making as little contact with people as possible, he couldn’t afford carnivore scents on top of what he needed to make a living. This made him an expert of the back alleys and the dank side streets that were the domain of the people afflicted such as he. He cursed as the wet patch had seemed to have grown worryingly since last night; he felt he would soon be without a roof over his head and facing the public exposure of an inquiry.

Aston rolled clumsily out of his stinking bed, the ancient rusted springs squeaked under the strain of his bulky frame and an empty vodka bottle clattered to the floor making a bang before rolling under his bedside table. Aston’s legs were unsteady as he stood shakily trying to get his bearings in the small room; he was much more at home on four legs than he was two, thankfully his quirk was more of a trigger he could control at will. Aston staggered towards the bathroom crashing into the door frame as he went, Aston to any outsider would have seemed terribly inebriated but it was all practice for his show piece tonight. As Aston couldn’t afford scents to mask his nature as a herbivore he made a cheap substitute by dousing himself in alcohol and playing the part of the drunken fool hoping the strong scent of the spirits would confuse the keen noses of the general public.

Aston stared into the mirror; life on the run had strained his youthful face, adding bags and crows feet, stress lines and deep dark circles around his dark eyes gave him the look of man much older than himself. The stubble growing around his chin had started to lose it’s color and go white, he silently noted that he would have to ask the others if color bleed through from animal forms was a normal occurrence. Aston turned the head of the rusted tap on the chipped and cracked sink, the water that came out was far from drinkable but Aston was not in a situation to be picky over where his hydration came from. After three loud gulps had sated his thirst slightly Aston threw some a handful of the murky grey water over his face washing away the dirt and sweat of the night before. The cold water snapping him awake as it ran in rivulets from his face.

Aston’s head snapped towards his door as three large thuds came from the other side; the fist on the other side of the door was filled with rage and would go through the plasterboard door quite easily if not for the ancient fossil of a man behind it. A cracked dusty voice came from the other side of the door “Usher, open the damn door, I know your in there you’re a month late in your rent. I got the bailiff with me this time so if you don’t come out and pay me your out on your ass buddy boy.” Aston quickly tried to formulate an escape plan, the bailiff would smell him easily and that would be it for him. Aston replied with a shaky voice, yawning as he did so, so that it would seem as if he had just woken “Mr Frankell sir, I can get your money just let me go to an ATM.” Aston knew his landlord wouldn’t fall for this it was one of Aston’s oldest tricks. “Oh no I’m not falling for that again Usher, now open the door.” Aston during this time had been backing out towards his window. Two stories and the trash right below it, no worries. “I’m sorry Mr Frankell I’m sick if you come in you’ll catch it.” Aston squeaked as he judged his landing. “That’s it.” Barked Frankell “Tommy, break the door down for me.”

Aston heard the crack of his door as he fell from his window, he would never be able to use his flat again and everything of value that he possessed was lost to him, thankfully he had grabbed his wallet. Aston felt something wet on his back, one of the trash cans he had fallen on had split and was leaking over his only set of clothes, old bolognaise sauce and the stench of meat. “Shit!” Aston’s expletive was muffled and quiet so not to alert the men in his old flat. Aston wiped of assorted pieces of filth and debris as he stood from the pile of trash bags he had fallen on, taking extra time to peel of an especially persistent slice of avocado from the lapel of his battered suit top. His suit was filthy and covered in dust, the charcoal black hiding the worst of the stains, he would change into something less conspicuous but it was the only item of clothing he owned even before the enforced exodus from his flat.

Aston wandered around the dark back streets and alleys, passing the time before he was due to meet his fellow prey at an inn in the dead of night. Aston spent most of his time pondering this meeting; would they be like him, penniless and without even the most basic shelter? Aston had come to learn that these were the only people he could rely on to come through when it counted. He did know none the less that they were all unwelcome in general society and this was their last way out.

Aston ran his hand through his black hair, flecked prematurely with white; he seemed to have gotten himself lost. The alley he was in was not familiar to him, the graffiti was new and alien to Aston and the smell was more acrid than his usual haunts yet still carried the distinct stench of the Grand city. Aston picked up his shoulders and began to stride emphasizing his build so to scare of any hooligans far enough to miss his scent.

Four young men rounded the corner; baseball bats pulled low obscuring their faces. They walked toward him with purpose and hunger in their eyes, they smelled him Aston was sure of it. He was about to turn tail and flee when one of them shouted to him, a coarse and uncouth voice much in keeping with the youth of the city “Oi, Herbby!” Aston tensed up, his adrenaline pumping ready to run “Wanna buy some scents mate?” Aston turned and walked towards the young men, for all he knew it could have been a trap to save them running after him but he was willing to risk it.

Aston left the alley with two vials of wolf scent and an empty wallet. Aston turned onto a main street after dousing himself with the wolf scent, he had never had the money to buy a scent before but the boys had been selling cheap. The liquid burned on his skin but he could smell the reek of a carnivore, he tensed up ready to run before realizing it was he that smelled of the hunter.

Aston roamed the city during that day reveling in his stealth and false identity, delighting in his pretence of normality. When night came he made his way to the agreed upon location, a pub, The White Stag. He rapped on the door a number of times before a voice came back to him “Who’s knocking on my door.” Aston replied as he had been told to “I seek refuge for I am hunted.” The voice let out a laugh as the door unbolted and a kindly old woman stood at the door “No need for the formality love, Alistair and his theatrics.” She muttered to him as she guided him through to the meeting place. There was a man sitting in the room at the far end, looked hard and rough, as if he had lead a life not dissimilar to Aston’s in terms of hardship. Bertha spoke to the man “Here’s another one dearey, smells a bit ripe though.”

Aston extended his hand to the first arrival “ Aston Usher, at your service.”

-----------------------------------------------------

my first post in character :D

[Higurashi]

Trevon sat on his couch, wondering what he should do. Yesterday he had gotten a call on his phone. No one EVER callled him. That was the troubling part. He was wondering how they got his number, and if he should even do as directed. On one hand, it was a chance to escape from this hell of a city. On the other hand, it might be a trap to capture and eat him. If he remembered correctly, none of those freaking carnivors had eaten bull meat in quite some time. It was so highly sought after that they had run out of breeders.

Poor bastards, Trev thought to himself. I can't hardly go outside. Those freaks know the scent to well. For years Trev had survived off the trash of those canivors that liked to indulge in non-meat treats. Those were getting fewer and fewer, and soon Trev would run out of food. He would have to risk it. Going to that dang inn would be his only chance of getting out of this horrid city.

Trev got up from the couch and began packing a single duffle bag. He started with the essentials, clothing went in first because it would squash the other things. He made sure to pack clothes for all seasons and conditions. Then came a few random personal possesions, including a bag off silver currency. He then put in the presentable food that he could find. He left out the stuff that would soon spoil. Finally went in a small picture. In it was a small family looking over a grassy feild.

Trev almost out of his appartment before he remembered the most crucial details. He went to a drawer and took out a eight inch army knife which his father had given him. He put this in his pack pocket. He then went into his bathroom and applied a large amount of wolf scent on himself to cover his own bull scent. THEN he walked out the door and onto the street.

As Trev walked down the street he could feel the glances of passerby following him. They knew something was going on, just not what it actually was. Trev almost got stopped by a cop one time but he talked his way out of it. He continued walking down the streets until he reached the correct adress, the stag inn. He knocked on the door a few times before being admitted. He looked back to see that the door person was a rather plump woman. Trev had almost sat down at a table when he smelled the delicious scent. Trev took no notice of the others and rushed over to where thee cupboard was. He opened it gently and viturally stared down the pile upon pile of delectable treats inside. He forced himself to only take a couple of apples and a pear then sat down at the table again. In the next few seconds all three fruits were gone.

[ｒａｂｂｉｔ]

Sometimes, noises terrified her. These ones, the ones of movement and a few voices – the ones other than Bertha’s – excited her, in a good way. The scents – wolf and lion and… After shave? – made her nervous, but she hoped they were only disguises.

Amanda crouched at the top of the stairs that lead down into the kitchen – a servant’s entrance, but a good hiding spot and easy access to the small room from upstairs – and grasped the railing, leaning forward to look on the people in the room. The sight of three men filled her violet eyes and she pressed her lips together thoughtfully; one, who had arrived first, had come through the dusty corridor without even knocking, and he appeared a little scruffy, with his tattoos and piercings, but what caught her attention was the hot pink stripe of color in his otherwise dark hair. She smiled a little, and then looked to the others; the next was wearing a suit – dirty, but a suit nonetheless – and had shocks of white in his hair that, along with the wrinkles in his face, aged him greatly. The last one to arrive had raided the fruit cabinet almost the minute he had arrived; she smiled, remembering how she’d done the same thing and had snagged the last of the strawberries the night before. How Bertha had managed to get strawberries, Amanda had no idea, but they’d been like heaven – and then the blond had climbed upstairs and had promptly passed out.

---- -- ---- -- ---- -- ---- -- ---- -- ---- -- ----

The day before, Amanda had made the trek farther into Grand City from the outskirts where she had been staying for awhile now. A week prior, she’d gotten the letter inviting her to the meeting at the White Stag Inn and the petite blond had been planning ever since for the trip.

Skeptical as she was about the whole situation – and hoping she was wrong – she’d planned an extra few hours to scope the place out, but it’d turned into a whole day when she’d arrived early due to a run-in with carnivores and some unexpected sprinting was involved.

Amanda had spent most of her extra day camped in the alleyway, a dark hood draped over her blond head, disguising her and making her an anonymous form, another of the not-so-uncommon homeless on the streets of the Grand City. She’d watched people pass on the street all day, violet eyes sticking like glue to those who passed her way down the alley; the whipcords of muscle that wrapped her slender, frail-looking form would tense, ready for flight – Amanda wasn’t well equipped for fight, in general, and it would only draw attention to her.

At one point, a plump woman carrying one too many bags of groceries passed the opening to the alley and a grunt from the woman made Amanda’s conscious scream, “HELP HER!” The blond climbed to her feet, slung the worn leather messenger bag across her body, darted after the woman, shoving the hood off her head, and then quickly relieving her of two of the bags – with little protest and a few “thank-you”s – and following her inside the inn.

“Thank you, again,” the woman had said, glancing over the short young woman with a keen pair of wrinkle-framed eyes.

“Of course, no problem,” Amanda murmured with a nod, glancing around – she felt a strange sense of comfort in the inn, and when the woman introduced herself as Bertha a moment later – the same name mentioned in the letter – Amanda pulled the letter from her coat’s pocket and presented it to Bertha with a smile.

“You’re early,” Bertha commented, not even glancing over the letter, only handing it back and ushering the childlike blond into the kitchen, where she’d pounced on the strawberries before retreating to the rooms upstairs.

In the morning, Amanda was still sleeping – if she’d been conscious to register it, she would have been surprised, since she was in a new, strange place, which usually threw off her sleeping pattern. Instead, she slept soundly for over twelve hours and roused around midday, after which she showered (another blessing) and went through her routine of getting ready; until the others had begun to arrive, Amanda had made idle chat with Bertha when she wasn’t too busy and relaxed.

---- -- ---- -- ---- -- ---- -- ---- -- ---- -- ----

Now, as she sat crouched behind the wall at the top of the stairs, peeking down through the railing at those that had arrived safely, she found her curiosity bubbling within her. She rose to her full height, tugged the hem of her denim shorts and started to descend the stairs, one white-sandaled foot on a stair at a time, making the motion smooth until she reached the kitchen floor.

The crisp white lace of her long-sleeve, high-neck tunic hid her shorts, draped against her shapely but slender thighs, and contrasted against the dingy wallpaper that the inn’s kitchen was decorated in. Her smile was about as bright, hitting her violet eyes as she ran her fingers through her white-blond hair, voice piping up with a greeting – soft, but welcoming and almost melodic in tone.

“Hi there, I guess you guys got the invitation, too, right?” She crossed the kitchen, brushing politely past the attractive young man with the hot pink in his hair to check to kettle on the stove. “Bertha’s tea is really good… You should all try some, once the water’s boiling.”

[Yoruyonaka]

The world sure fell down the crapper, Rose Scarlett thought looking out the window of her apartment. She wore a small silk robe she bought a while back that had Chinese art all over it. Her brown curls were messy from just waking up. Stepping away from the balcony, she walked across her apartment. Unlike most Prey hiding from the outside world, Rose made sure to remain apart of it. Her job was not too hard for her nor was it easy. She was a personal clothing designer for a very rich couple. They were carnivores themselves, but close friends to her family and would never rat her out for being a herbivore.

The apartment was even paid for by the them out of pure kindness. You see, the couple, rather, the Dominics lost their twelve year old daughter when the law was passed to round up all herbivores. They were unlucky enough to have given birth to a herbivore. Although Rose is a lot older then their daughter she had the same appearance and the Dominics felt Rose's parents could use help. Not only that, but their daughter could also transform into a Panda. Pandas are of the rarest herbivores even before the law. Now there were barely any left. It shocked Rose when she found out. Seeing as she had no other choice, she took the job opportunity.

She moved away from the city her parents lived in along with her past life. Her father was a carnivore, but her mother was a herbivore. She was taken and tortured to where Rose was, but she lied and said Rose ran away. News from her father told her that her mother is in the Breeding program. The thought disgusted her and made her sick. Her father was also suffering from this, but had no other choice but to endure it so that he can keep his little Rose safe.

Fucking cannibals, Rose stepped into her bathroom and dropped the silk robe. Her tan skin reflected in the mirror. Her brown eyes darkened by the past two years stared at her image. She stepped away from the counter and turned the shower on. The Dominics had also provided her with special shampoos, body washes, and conditioners with the scent of a tiger. They felt it suited her, but Rose never really cared. Washing her naked body in the stench of a carnivore made her feel even worse about this life of hers. Why did Rise live so peacefully while others suffered?

After taking her shower, she got dressed in a white top (http://www.fashion-era.com/images/2007_8_trends_autmn_wint/young_teen_fashion/int46605.jpg) she made and jeans. She also sprayed herself in more tiger scent. Rose never really left the apartment, only on some occasions to buy food, visit the Dominics, possibly get together with some friends. Yes, Rose had friends, but they were those who haven't found their quirks yet. She of course told them she hadn't found hers either. Anyways back to Rose going out for that day. She had received a letter. The letter asked her, a herbivore, to meet at a White Stag Inn for a meeting between other herbivores. Rose was shocked by this, but decided that only the couple knew of her existence in the city so they must have gotten contacts with a group of rogue herbivores. She would go.

Rose left the apartment with a small backpack with money, clothes, vials of tiger scent and other carnivore aromas. She stopped by the grocery store to by some food in case any poor herbivores that have been deprived were at this meeting. Of course, Rose had no other choice but to buy one piece of meat to not look suspicious. She threw it out immediately when no one was paying attention to her. She walked brusquely forward to the White Stag Inn without making any eye contact with the carnivores. Her thoughts were on one thing: was this a trap?

She made it all the way to the Inn and walked in without a second thought. A large woman just walked into the entrance area of the Inn. She looked over at Rose who tensed up with the scent of Carnivores lingering.

"Ah, you must be the Rose girl?" The woman asked Rose.

"Yes, that would be my name," Rose replied glancing around. "How do I know this isn't all a trick?"

The woman sighed and gave Rose a small smile. "Come with me," She replied turning her back and walking down the hall. "My name's Bertha by the way, and to make you feel better I know the Dominics."

Rose's eyes widened, but she followed the woman to what appeared to be a kitchen of sorts. At the table sat a man with too many piercings and tattoos, another man who smelled a lot like wolf and vodka, another man who wore red trousers. A short blond girl also stood at the stove checking a kettle. She appeared to be eying the tattooed man who appeared to be nervous about this whole situation. Who would kid the guy? Rose grabbed a chair and sat down putting the bag of food on the table.

"If anyone needs something to eat," She said indifferently. "I brought some food."

[ILYTH]

Aston fidgeted on his chair, leaning form one way to the other making the old wooden seat creak betraying its age; he was uncomfortable, wary of the others. He glanced around the room silently judging potential escape routes if everything fell apart. Aston smelled so many scents mingling in the room; his own wolf was easily out done by the much more expensive scents of Lion and Tiger, how could he know that everyone was who they said they were? Aston was unsure but for now he would be guarded with his actions.

Since his arrival more supposed herbivores arrived, a man and two young looking woman one of which was certainly from a well off family, the smell of contentedness and a life of ease reeked from her and made Aston wretch. The other seemed kind and maybe too young for the life that had been given to her, Aston felt sympathy towards the small blonde girl and anger towards any government that would do what they did to someone like her.

The rich smell of food wafted through the air, a cheesey spinachy scent, Quiche? Aston did not know it certainly smelled better than the chick pea broth he had become accustomed to in human form; the smell reminded Aston how much he ached for good quality hay and how empty his stomach was. Aston rose and walked towards the kitchen, his tattered white converse squeaking on the floorboards drawing a few glances from people who had become accustomed to bolt at any alien noise. He followed the glorious scent all the way to the kitchen where a pot of tea was boiling on the counter and a vegetable passty was cooling next to it. Aston poured a cup of the tea and took a slice of the big pastry and walked back over to the room that would hold the meeting.

Aston skulled the tea in big gulps, heat never seemed to burn his mouth much and besides the refreshing brew was irresistible as it sated his thirst. Aston ate like a man who had not seen food in months but this had always been so, big bites and few table manners, that’s what his former lover used to say, he quickly dispelled all thoughts of Erin from his mind as a great anger rose inside of him.

Aston finished his meal quickly and walked over to a man roughly his height wearing a pair of red jeans. The man had been introduced as Trevon, from his appearance Aston knew that they shared a common bond, living off the scraps the could scrape from the bottom of societies shoe. Aston extended a hand, the scars of his life burned into the back of his hand and fingers “Aston Usher, Trevon I presume?” Aston did not wait for the man to respond before getting closer and whispering in his ear “Is it just me or do you wonder how these people survived long enough to get here?”

[Higurashi]

Trevon was a little startled when the man that introduced himself as Aston Usher suddenly introduced himself. Trev hadn't been expecting it and wasn't ready to be talked to. Yet, he sort of felt a bond with the man, small as it was. Trev got the impression that this man was like him. That he had lived off rubbish and filth, much more so then the immpression that he got off of everyone else here. Sure they may have had to hide, but not like he had had to. Most of them had probably never lived in a gutter for thier childhood, cringing at the slightest sound should it be a predator there to kill you as they had your family.

Trevon came back the reality a few seconds later. "Y-yes, my name is Trevon." He stammered. it was when he heard the next comment that he became nervous. “Is it just me or do you wonder how these people survived long enough to get here?” He stared at the side of Aston's head for a moment before replying. "Oh... um, I suppose much the same w-way I did." That comment had gotten him thinking. If any of these people were predators and found of wht he was, they would go for him first. He shuddered at the thought.

Trevon then backed away and went back to eating his apple, now cautious to the others here. He was even suspicios of Bertha and Aston now that they thought had gotten into his head. He focused his mind on the fruit and tryed to calm down. He wasn't succesful. At the slightest noise his head jerked around in that direction.

[John]

Serena stood partially concealed in the doorway of the building, reading the text message on her cell phone. There was still a part of her that felt sickened by all this. She couldn’t help wonder if she was doing the right thing. The path that had led her to this place was one which had been full of pain and suffering, culminating with the loss of her husband and children. But then she was prey, and nothing could ever change that. Still, perhaps this one thing, despite how much it sickened her, could give her a glimmer of hope.

Still Serena was here; her bag slung over her shoulder and what remained of her meagre belongings. She had packed her clothes, which consisted of a few pairs of jeans and some tee shirts. She also had two very precious things. At least they were to her. Wrapped safely in some cloths were two hand painted toy soldiers. Each one was distinctly different and the painting on them appeared to have been done by two different people at with different levels of skill. To you or I they would have no value whatsoever but to the mother of the children who painted them, their worth was immeasurable. And it was all Serena had let of her two sons, Devon and Marley.

Now Serena found herself here, on a dark street making her way to a secret meeting, a meeting with other prey. It was something she found herself a little leery about. After all, put too many prey in one place and no doubt predators will eventually show up. But at least tonight, the streets were relatively quiet. Still, it was better to keep to the shadows instead of walking right into the open. Too many things could go wrong and the city held more than its fair share of nocturnal predators as well.

After a few hours of walking, and a quick stop to eat a few beetles she had found scurrying in one of the alleyways she cut through. Not the greatest of snacks when in human form. It’s not that she found the taste repulsive. They just better suited her palette in animal form. Mind you with the growing scarcity of food, for not only predator but prey as well, the bugs were better than nothing. Still, Serena would have given anything for a nice piece of fruit; maybe some wild raspberries.

Serena finally arrived at the Inn and knocked on the door. The woman who greeted her seemed kind enough and was more than happy to direct her to the kitchen where a few others had already assembled. Serena found it strange that the woman seemed to be quite calm considering that there were all these prey assembled in one place. In Serena’s eyes, she was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. No doubt that the sooner this meeting was over with, the better; though it didn’t matter either way. Given the things Serena knew, she figured that none of them stood a chance and a feeling of nausea washed over her.

Serena grabbed an apple form a plate that was sting on the counter. It was ripe and even in human form she could still smell its aroma. Despite the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Serena felt hungry and took a bit. Dropping her bag next to one of the chairs around the table, Serena sat down and waited for the meeting to begin.

[ILYTH]

Aston stifled a laugh as the young man in the red trousers stammered his response to Aston’s question. Aston could here the fear and tension in the man’s voice, he at least had some degree of sense then Aston thought to himself. Any one of the guests could be carnivores, even the sweet little blonde girl who had preceded each of their arrivals, perhaps it could be the strong looking man in the corner, strong with the musky dry scent of lion, a creature more than capable of devouring anyone in the room. Perhaps the rich young tigress, she seemed cool and in command of her self more than the others that sat in the dusty kitchen. Suddenly Aston jumped at the thought that he was as suspicious as any of them, he had always had an air of intensity that made people wary of him. Aston decided to make himself more familiar with the crowd and learn their stories, maybe even single out a potential wolf amongst the lambs so to speak.

Aston excused himself politely from the company of Trevon the only person he trusted as of yet “Excuse me Trevon, I’m off to mingle with the others.” Aston made his way through the kitchen assessing who he would benefit most from learning about, the young blonde girl was high on his priority list as he was doubtful that she would be anything more sinister than she appeared and he was looking mainly for re-assurance. Possibly the rough looking man with the pink streak in his hair who had pre-empted his arrival would be a good start as they had not gone far beyond introductions. Aston then decided that he wished to see if he had jumped to a misconception over the girl smelling of tigress, maybe she had spent time as he, and maybe his instant scorn of her was ill placed.

Aston sat to think over and observe his companions for further information that would not be gleaned through conversation, body language, nerves, that information was golden in terms of discovering a person’s intentions. Nothing he could see gave anything away about the occupants of the room, they would naturally be experts of hiding themselves, for one reason or the other. Naturally a herbivore would need to hide their nature to guard themselves from the suspicion of others, while a carnivore spy would learn to lie in wait, hiding their intentions till the last moment at which point they would strike at their unsuspecting prey.

Abandoning his visual inspection of the rooms denizens Aston decided to go and talk to members of the group, specifically the girl who smelled of tiger and had brought food. Aston heaved himself up to walk over to the girl when a new herbivore entered the room, a woman with a handbag, she looked worried and scared, understandable for a person in her position. Aston took an interest in the new woman, she wore no scent and looked to know the cruelty of the world better than even he.

Aston approached the woman, his hands in the pocket of his suit top, which was unbuttoned at the front revealing a sullied white dress shirt stained with blood from many past near escapes. “ Aston Usher, here to welcome you and let you know you are amongst friends here, what ever good or evil that will do us in the long run we shall discover together don’t you think?”

[Anne Bonny]

The quiet crack of a sunflower seed's shell seemed much louder than usual in the stillness of an empty room. Desi pulled the shell from between her lips, chewed quickly, swallowed, and popped another seed into her mouth. She always ate when she was nervous.

The girl was perched on the end of a bed in her rented hotel room, her eyes locked on the door. Soon it would be time to leave, she kept telling herself. Brown eyes drifted from the door to the alarm clock and back again. Only two more minutes.

It had been a full day since she had been sitting in the same room, almost in he same position, when an envelope had been slid under the door. Desi's sharp eyes caught the movement, and she had remained for several seconds, staring at the white paper with her head cocked to one side. By the time she got up to investigate, whoever had delivered it was gone. And now Desi was left wondering whether the invitation inclosed was actually real, and who had sent it.

But after hours of inward debate, Desi had finally decided that it would be worth a risk to connect with some others like her.

Other herbavores, she repeated in her mind. She hated the word "prey." It sounded so helpless, so hopeless. Like their main purpose in life was to be food for another. The very idea made her stomach turn.

The clock ticked as the minute hand moved, and Desi sprang from the bed. One minute left! She gathered her few personal items: a change of clothes, a hair brush, a bottle of water, and an extra bag of sunflower seeds, already packed in a messenger bag. The girl moved slowly across the room to the door, doing her best to control her breathing. Best not to get too excited, she told herself. How embarressing would it be to show up as an canary because she couldn't control her own excitement?

The clock finally ticked forward again, and Desi began her nervous, but thankfully uneventful triip across town. She had donned black jeans and a black fitted tee shirt, in hopes of blending into the shadows. Her perfume was falcon scented, or at least that's what it said on the bottle. One of the downsides to being avian was that her sense of smell wasn't as good as, say, someone canine. But Desi didn't have to put it to the test, as she arrived at the White Stag Inn without even seeing another soul.

Sharp eyes scanned the area surrounding the abandoned building and found nothing that could be considered a thread, so Desi made her way to the door and knocked gently. It was only a few seconds before the door opened slightly and a round face peered out.

"Hi! I'm Desi Flynn. I got this invitation?" Desi pulled the now crumpled paper from her pocket and held it out to her hostess, but the older woman didn't even glance at it.

"Come on in then," she simply said and held open the door. "I'm Bertha, and the others are this way."

Desi's heart leapt. Others! She wouldn't have to be alone anymore!

Bertha lead the way into the kitchen where a few other people stood and sat around. The younger girl felt herself grinning immediatly. Were they all herbavores? Would they all stick together? This was great. This was perfect. It was just what Desi had been-

"There's food around," Bertha said, interrupting her thoughts. "And tea. Have what you want."

"Oh, I love tea!" Desi blurted. She glanced around the room again excitedly, again fighting to keep her enthusiasm in check. A few deep breaths and she felt a bit better. Best to take a seat and try to relax, she told herself. The girl hoisted herself up onto the counter and perched on the edge, feet swinging slowly as she waited to find out just what what going on.

[Higurashi]

Trevon was thinking back to his former life at the moment. Or at least he considered it his former life if what the phonecaller had said was true. If it was, he was going to leave this cursed city forever. He sighed again. All his life he had hoped to get out of this city, and now that the chance finally came, it almost seemed to good to be true. The girl that had just entered seemed to be of the same opinion, but an entirely different mood about it. While Trevon was down and slightly mopey, this girl was pratically bursting with excitement and joy. Trevon decided that he should try to be more like her, and perk up a little. He tryed to do so, and suceeded. His face brightened and he was less afraid. Afterall, how likely was it that a predator would lure him out with an invitation? Afterall, Trevon had never heard of such a thing. Trevon gave a slight chuckle. It was possibly the first time that he had done so in years.

He got up from his seat, with a smile on his face, and walked over to the perky girl that had just entered. As he neared the counter, he leaned on it and said, "Why hello there! How are you? Whats your name?" Usually Trevon himself would have felt quite disturbed by a stranger suddenly coming up and asking questions, but at the moment he was trying to be happy, REALLY trying, and he didn't see the problem with it. Maybe it was also because he did't get the 'pampered' impression off the girl, while he still felt that she probably hadn't gone through the things he had. That was a happy thing though right? He didn't WANT anyone to go through his experiences. Some had been pretty bad, and Trevon could never wish that sort of thing on another person.

[Auki]

Darnel waited for… he wasn’t entirely sure how long, but near on 30 minutes he guessed. Was he really the only person here? He swore he could hear movement upstairs. Of course, he wasn’t sure if that was just him getting paranoid, a natural instinct after hiding for so long.

Bertha would occasionally pop in and out of the kitchen, checking to see he was still there, offering him endless cups of tea, sometimes exiting up the narrow staircase at the back of the room. He didn’t feel like questioning her; she seemed to be distracted by something regardless. She would pause, mutter to herself and scratch her head before hurrying out a door again. Darnel was curious but knew if he asked, she’d tell him to mind his own business.

He jumped when someone finally knocked upon the door, the noise echoing throughout the inn. Bertha ran through the kitchen moments later, heading for the front door, cursing about how people didn’t knock quietly anymore like they did when ‘she was young’. He chuckled at her attitude, an attempt at trying to shake that nagging feeling that he was being watched. It had been far too long since he had socialised with other people.

The first person to enter was male, coated in a thin layer of filth and dust. Smelling distinctly of wolf, this close Darnel could tell the scent was fake, probably a cheap version considering the state of the guy. They exchanged a handshake but Darnel did not introduce himself. They didn’t have time to as a few seconds later, another man entered the room, raiding the cupboards without a word.

Darnel was relieved when females finally began to show themselves, although he stayed back and attempted to identify a potential predator among them. Some would think he was being quiet - anti-social - compared to the others who ran around exchanging greetings, but he saw it as cautious. Eventually, one of them – a small girl who looked no older than sixteen - approached him. He made a glance at the woman who smelt of tiger, the only one left sitting on her own, beckoning her closer with a finger before answering the blonde, “No joke – She’s been filling me up on tea since I got here.” He scrubbed a hand self-consciously through his hair, “M’name’s Darnel. It’s been a while since I’ve seen others like myself.”

He wasn’t quite sure how to go about conversation, aware that being himself would likely get him kicked out the inn. The scents were becoming nauseating and he found himself tensing at the slightest noise from outside. He tried to relax however, worried that the two women were getting an even worse impression than the one already set by his appearance.



Bertha made her way around her guests as quietly as she could, not wanting to disturb their discussions. Occasionally, she would bring a crate into the kitchen, carrying it with extreme care, gently stacking them in the corner of the kitchen. At one point, she brought in a large bag, placing it in the centre of the table, the clinking of metal lost in the noise of the room. I’ll give them five minutes for introductions, she mused, Then, we can begin.

[ｒａｂｂｉｔ]

Amanda watched each of them with keen but discrete violet eyes and as Bertha ran around in a more animated version of herself (at least, that she'd seen). First of all, the scents they wore were starting to give her a headache – this needed to be rectified. She retrieved a few sets of cups and saucers from Bertha's cabinets and poured everyone who lingered in the kitchen a cup, pressing the warm china into their hands or setting them down in front or beside them with a murmur of, “There you go,” and whistling very softly as she did. The smell of the tea diluted that of their disguises and the petite blond gave a little shiver, thankful for it.

“What do you think? Praise worthy, right?” She put a hand on a slender hip and gave a little smirk.

“I mean, definitely not something you’d pour scotch into in the morning after a roaring party! Too good for that,” she turned her back to them and filled the kettle with tap water – Bertha’s plumbing was surprisingly good for the area. She put the stainless steel kettle back on the stove and cranked the flames of the gas stove up under it, giving the rubber-clad handle a little pat before putting her back to the sink and observing again.

One of the other girls – a pretty redhead whose hair color she envied – had perched upon on counter and Amanda gave her a polite smile, “There should be fruit behind you, if you want it. It’s pretty good. Who knows where Bertha gets her freakin’ fruit, but…”

The blond shrugged her slender shoulders and she set to letting her eyes wander around the room, ears trained on the voices. They exchanged names and she tipped her head slightly, hesitating to do so – she’d always considered names to be a dangerous thing. What the hell, she thought.

“I’m Amanda, by the way,” she gave a little wiggle of her fingers as greeting.

[John]

Despite the fact that Serena had assumed that some of the others would no doubt try to talk to her, she would have had to confess not being ready for it. She was fairly sure that each of them, in their own way, were good people. They all had a good reason for being together but for Serena there was more to it than just simply being prey. And the fact was, that she didn’t want to try to get to know any of them. It would only make things harder for her in what was to come. But still, if she didn’t, that could cause its own set of problems; problems Serena didn’t want to deal with. So perhaps it would be best to talk with Aston for now.

“Um…hi,” Serena forced a smile in an effort to be polite. “Serena Fisher. And I hope you’re right. It doesn’t seem like we have any other choice.” Serena’s hands shook a little as she spoke. It was hard for her to speak to anyone under the circumstances.

“Look, I’m sorry,” the smile faded. “I don’t mean to seem rude. I’m just…not myself right now. It’s been a bad couple of days.” That was an understatement. Claire had lost her family and was loathe to talk about it with anyone. The memories of her husband being killed, watching as her son’s arm was severed and thrown into a meat grinder, what she had to go through to escape; it tormented her so. Hopefully though, she could steer the conversation away from such topics despite her eyes welling up with the appearance of the images in her mind’s eye.

“So what do you think of all this?” Serena stammered slightly when she spoke. “I mean, do you think we have a chance?” Not much of one in Serena’s opinion. But still, it was good to have hope. Hope is what brought them all together here. And hope is what would keep them going till the end.

[Anne Bonny]

"Why hello there! How are you? Whats your name?"

Desi turned her head from watching a few of the others in the room mingle to face the boy who had addressed her. Maybe "boy" wasn't quite the right term, she corrected herself. He looked a bit older than her. But either way, the dark haired guy seemed friendly and outgoing enough.

"Desi Flynn," the girl replied without hesitation, her face blooming into a wide grin. "It's great to meet you! I'm doing better now that I'm here. What a relief to find some others who are..." She trailed off, fumbling for words. Who are prey? Who aren't going to attack me? Who haven't lost their minds in this crazy world?

"Who are friendly," Desi finally finished.

A pale blond girl approached bearing tea, which Desi eagerly accepted. She took a long draw at the cup, relishing the waves of heat it sent through her body. Even if it burned the top of her tongue a little, she savored it. It had been ages since she had treated herself to such a luxury.

The blond introduced herself as Amanda, with a little wave. Desi smiled back, but her attention was diverted as Bertha bustled about the kitchen. A few crates began to stack up in the corner and now the woman put a large sack on the table. Desi cocked her head as she watched with blatant curiosity.

[ILYTH]

Aston felt sorry for the woman standing in front of him, her announcement of a rough couple of days seemed like an understatement, a rough couple of days is losing phone Aston felt that what this woman had gone through had been cataclysmic. He listened intently to what she had to say, she seemed shaken and fearful of her surroundings as she had every right to be. The woman, who had introduced herself as Serena asked Aston his opinion on the meeting and whether he thought they had a chance. Aston weigh up his thoughts in his mind before expressing them coolly with a supportive tone “Together we have a chance, whatever chance that may be is for us to decide.” He added “As to whether we have a choice, you always have a choice for good or ill.” Aston walked away as he went to sit down, standing up was wearing out his knees, and his joints took a bit of time to stop aching after changing back to his human form.

As Aston sat himself down on the ancient brown chair, its wood dry and cracked with age and a number of rather portly guests he sighed under his breath and looked around. In this room alone there were multiple lives, multiple stories all intermingling with other stories and people in a huge web of shared experience. Aston surveyed the room and felt a silent kinship with all of the prey assembled before him, they had been hunted since birth, chased and hounded by those who would once have lived happily with their quarry. Aston felt sick as he looked back and remembered all the times he had fled for his life, all of the people that could no longer possibly be safe in their hidey holes away from the world. He remembered the look of horror on the face of his parents as they had to flee yet another house in the dead of night, the sound of jackals reverberating in the air around him, at this Aston felt a massive anger, for once just once he wished he could take the fight to the carnivores and give them back some of the pain they had dolled to him for all his life.

Aston did not realize that in his anger he had squeezed the fragile wood so title that it fractured and cracked in his hand until a large wooden splinter penetrated his palm. Aston mouthed an obscenity under his breath and set about trying to remove the offending debris from his hand.

[Yoruyonaka]

Rose wasn't really worried that any of the others were carnivores, most of them acted skittish and nervous about the whole situation. She just focused her attention at the problem at hand. Her indifferent glance to everyone else didn't get much attention. They were making introductions while Rose remained at the side. The man with tattoos beckoned her after he spoke to the short blond called Amanda. With a sigh, Rose walked over to him.

Swiftly getting over the disappointment of the blonde’s diverted attention, he turned his gaze to the approaching brunette, the scent of tiger tickling his nose – It was a pretty believable smell; it made him itch. He assumed the girl was richer than the rest of them, or at least in a better position, but her social abilities seemed to be sub-par. His eyes wandered over her body casually, taking her all in before he concentrated on her face. “You don’t need to sigh, love,” he commented as she approached, “I just wanted to get to know one of you lot before things kick off. A name, for example, would be a good place to start off.” He paused for a moment, “You can relax y’know. Being all tense just makes you look up yourself.”

Rose eyed the man talking to her. He was rather good looking, the ink on his arms making him look rugged. Even though he and the others eyed her with a little contempt because of her living style, but his comment made her smile nonetheless.

"I would apologize for the way I am acting, but seeing the circumstances fit there really isn't a reason," She replied to him allowing her protective outer shell to break a little. "As for my name, well it's Rose Scarlett. What might your name be Mr. Getting to know one another?"

He returned her smile with a grin, “I would be Darnel Cain. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Scarlett.” Her name was strange, like something he would have found in a fairy-tale when he was younger. All of a sudden, he felt old – Like it had been a lifetime since he had been a child. In some ways, it had. He rubbed his temples wearily, the time of night giving him the beginnings of a headache. His normally erratic schedule had screwed up his sleeping patterns – Both energy and exhaustion would come without warning. The buzz of the room kept him awake however.

His eyes wandered to the bag Bertha had placed on the table before locking onto Rose’s face, “As for circumstances, we should all be over the moon. It’s better to be doing something useful than stuck in hiding, right? I think I’d rather go down fighting, or at least trying to fight, than cowering in fear. It just means we’ve got to trust each other and damn is that hard.”

"Trust..." Rose muttered as her browns eyes met his. "If I knew how to. Not saying I wont try, but as you know, as every prey on the planet knows...trust doesn't come easily, nor does it come free. Your right about one thing, I want to be useful. You can imagine that I have lived a lot better than most of our kind. I never thought it was fair, but I followed my parents wishes. If I can provide a source of help in any way, it will make my life a lot better."

Her brown eyes became saddened as she thought about her mother. Who knows if she was still alive or not. The world had become a cruel and dreadful place.

“Wh-…Hey, no need to look down,” He stammered as her mood dropped again. Had that been his fault? He hadn’t meant to bring up any sensitive subjects. Damn it, what was with woman and their ever-changing emotions? “I didn’t mean to like…offend you or nothing. I mean, I’m just an idiot who trusts a pretty face – I can’t say that’s the best way to keep us all alive though.”

Her eyes brightened when he called her pretty. Pretty? Only my parents have ever called me pretty, she thought trying to understand the happiness that flew through her. She felt the blush forming on her face and quickly gained her stature once more.

"You brought no offense at all," Rose said with a kind smile. "I just remembered some bad memories. And I hope I am not just another pretty face to you." She laughed in amusement, hoping he caught on to her joke. "It's been a while since I've talked to another prey, especially one as handsome as yourself."

His grin widened – How long had it been since he’d been with a woman? Two years? It had been near impossible to get laid whilst trying to survive. Prey tended to keep to themselves and fear strangers – It had made for a very long two years in his opinion. He dipped his head in gratitude at the compliment, wondering if she was deliberately ignoring the hot pink colour of his tattoos. He had assumed the ladies would not find him attractive with such a feminine colour snaking down his body.

“I’ve tended to only speak to my clients – Clients because, y’know, I’ve had to make money for myself. Can’t say I’m a big fan of the job I did but it paid the bills without suspicion. I just wish I’d made enough to at least keep myself presentable; the dust-covered, rugged look can’t be too great.”

Rose circled around him looking at his tattoos and everything else. A pink streak in his hair, nice body otherwise.

She smiled again, bring her brown eyes to his. "Oh I think the many colors you have give you an edge," She replied. "I work with clothes myself, so I can tell when someone has good style. And I would have to say for many, including myself, that the rugged type is rather sexy."

“Sexy? I guess I can live with that. Most girls are put off by tattoos and piercings though.” He jutted a thumb in the blonde’s direction when he was sure she was looking the other way, “Girls like her for example. It ruins the perfect gentleman and prince charming appeal. In short, people expect me to be a dick.” He gave a short laugh, “I guess they’re mostly right in that sense. I used to be at least. Two years of seclusion really gives you time to think about the mistakes you made though.”

Like dating a girl who’s species was panther for example – He was positive that had made for the worse break-up seen in the history of the world. Her loyalty had wavered upon the minute of hearing the words ‘potential starvation’ blaring out over the news. Her mind had convinced her that securing a horse carcass early on would be to her advantage regardless of how much he disliked the idea. It was possibly the scariest moment of his life. Even in the warmth of the kitchen, he gave a small shudder.

Rose eyed him with concern, but rather stressing his worries she replied, "I doubt you have anything to worry about when it comes to looks. Plus, I find a guy who is nice yet strange unique." She winked at him. Although on the outside she was calm, she couldn't believe the way she was acting. Been a while since she practiced self-control.

Darnel was about to continue the conversation onwards but Bertha had entered the room. With a stance that allowed little room for arguments, she held her hands up and clapped twice, loudly, to gain everyone’s attention.

“If I could have you silent,” she said, her voice seeming far too deep for someone of her gender, “I will begin.”


[Co-op with the wonderful Auki~]

[ｒａｂｂｉｔ]

“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME!” Amanda exploded, fury coursing through the blond’s slender frame as she whirled on Darnel, rage burning in her violet eyes. She had caught the motion of his hand out of the corner of her eye. She had heard his words to the brunette. She had been thinking of chatting him up but if he was enough of a self-centered jerk to assume that he knew anything about her when they’d only been in the same room for a whopping thirty minutes, then he had another thing coming!

It was immature to yell, throw a fit, but she had barely enough time to reel herself back in, pretty face flashing through the emotions of shock and humiliation at her outburst. The kettle took a daring drive from the stove, caught in Amanda’s movement as she had turned around; the flames under it licked open air as it crashed to the floor, spurting scalding hot water at her legs.

The blond cried out, hissed with pain and jumped, trying to get away from the water even as it scalded her calves. In a breath, the blond wasn’t there. On the ground where she’d been standing lay her tunic, shorts and shoes in a heap, which squirmed as Amanda crawled out of the fabric. The cat-sized red panda sat on the linoleum in a rather feline matter, head bowed and red and blond stripped tail curled around her paws.

Karma’s a bitch.

She’d cry, if she could, from pain and humiliation. The reddish brown fur of her hind legs was matted with water, skin under raw and angry, throbbing with pain and would probably blister. Amanda would be fine in the morning with the right care of the wound – as long as it wasn’t as inflamed and causing such pain.

With a slight bit of visible pain in her movements, Amanda folded her clothes as best as she could manage and set them on top of her shoes. She looked to the kettle on the floor and the spilled, still-steaming water and shook her head a little, blond furred ears folded against her head with shame. She sat beside her clothes as Bertha came into the room and she directed her attention to the woman.