This is my life meow

Wylan was trying his paw at curing some meat. He started by skinning the prey, and leaving it hanging on some branches just outside their den to drain. Flatting for the first time was an interesting experience. Sometimes, he found himself tripping over tinctures that Ollie had made. Sometimes, he found Ollie demanding to know how feathers had ended up in his honey, or on his bed, or other totally random places. (Wylan didn’t know, sometimes feathers just did that).

But all in all. He liked it. He liked the freedom of having their own space, but still having Ollie nearby. Sometimes, he woke up in the night with a terrible ache in his chest, and would curl up outside Ollie's door, just so he could hear another wolf breathing.

His thoughts were heavily on what life looked like now when he heard a branch snap just outside the front door. He glanced outside, and found himself face to face with a tiger. Close enough that he could feel their breath. One of his drying birds in its mouth. “Ollie… OLLIE!”


"Wylan Fatalis"