I Fight For What's Mine

Quill meandered through the forest, his thick grey and white coat dampened by the relentless autumn rain. The icy droplets turned to sleet, and the wind howled through the trees. His muscles ached, and his breath came out in short, sharp puffs of mist. He needed shelter and he needed it quickly. He sniffed the air, catching the musty scent of a cave nearby. His pace quickened as he made his way towards it.

The mouth of the cave was dark, hidden by thick foliage. Quill pushed through, his large frame brushing against the wet branches. Inside, the air was dry, and the rocky floor, while cold, was better than standing in the open. He shook the water from his coat, sending droplets flying in every direction. His braided mane, thicker around his neck, offered some warmth and protection against the cold, but even that had been soaked through. The brute wondered if he looked like a big, wet rat.

The storm outside raged on, but the cave provided the shelter that he needed. Quill settled in the far corner, curling his body tight to conserve heat. His ears flicked back and forth, listening to the wind howl outside and the occasional drip of water from the cave ceiling. It was peaceful, in a way, though he remained alert, pink and aqua eyes scanning the shadows.

Then a deep, rumbling growl echoed through the cave causing Quill to lift his head. Pink nostrils flared as he scented the air again. How had he missed it? The stench of something large and angry filled his senses. He wasn’t alone. From the opposite side of the cave, a massive form moved in the darkness. A black bear. From the muted light that filtered in through the doorway, Quill could make out the bears size. It was one of the largest black bears that he'd seen to date.

The bear’s honey colored eyes gleamed with displeasure, and its fur was bristled, wet from the storm but puffed out in threat. Quill bared his teeth, his own growl rumbling low in his throat. The bear wasn’t pleased about sharing its shelter. It took a step forward, snarling, one paw lashing out in a threatening swipe, though it was nowhere close enough to Quill to touch him. It was more of a "look what I can do" type of gesture.

Quill stood, his legs stiff and ready. He wasn’t about to give up the cave without a fight. The space wasn’t big enough for both of them, and neither was willing to back down. A deep, guttural snarl pulled from the marbled brute as he flashed wickedly long canines. If the stupid thing would just turn around and leave, they could avoid all of this. Alas...The bear roared, charging the dire giant as though he was no more than a pup. The balls on this thing...

The grey and white brute darted to the side just in time, avoiding the brunt of the bear’s weight as it slammed into the rock wall where Quill had been a moment ago. His claws scraped against the stone as he turned, preparing to strike. The bear swung a massive paw, aiming for Quill’s side, but he ducked, snapping at the air in retaliation.

When they finally came together, it was a brutal clash. The bear was more compact, but Quill was faster, more agile. Quill was fiercely determined. He was a Klein, after all. A Klein never gave up without a fight. His thick, braided mane was his best defense, and it saved him more than once as the bear’s claws grazed his neck, unable to dig deep enough to do serious damage. Teeth bit into the bears face, narrowly missing its eye, while the bear wrapped its thick forelegs around Quill in an attempt to crush him.

The cave was filled with the sounds of battle, growls, roars, the scrape of claws on rock, and the thud of flesh on flesh. Quill leaped back again as the bear swung its claws at his head, missing by inches. He lunged forward, biting down hard on the bear’s shoulder. His teeth sank into its thick fur, and the bear howled in pain, shaking him off with a violent twist of its body.

Quill staggered but kept his balance. The bear wasn’t slowing down, and neither was he. They circled each other, each waiting for the other to show weakness. The bear’s breath was labored, its eyes wild with rage. It charged again, and this time Quill didn’t dodge. He braced himself, letting the bear come close before sidestepping at the last second, using the bear’s momentum against it.

The bear attempted to scramble to a halt, but its massive form crashed into the wall. Quill leaped forward, his jaws snapping at the back of the bear’s neck. He clamped down, hard, shaking his head to tear into the thick hide. The bear roared in pain, thrashing to dislodge him, but Quill held on, his muscles straining. Blood filled his maw.

The bear gave one last desperate swipe, its claws catching Quill across the ribs. The marbled brute let go, grunting in pain as he backed up. Blood oozed from the wound, but it wasn’t terribly deep. The bear, however, was losing stamina. Its shoulders sagged, and its movements became sluggish. It was apprehensive. Blood dripped from the wound a the back of its neck, the sound of the dripping blood melding with the sound of the water dripping from the top of the cave.

The pair stood there, watching one another and Quill released another low growl of warning. He was giving the beast an opportunity to leave with its life. Realizing this, the bear turned and retreated into the cold, freezing night. Quill could hear the bear’s heavy breathing as it lumbered off, the darkness of night gradually swallowing its retreating form. Only then did Quill allow himself to relax, his body aching from the fight. He licked at his side, cleaning the wound as best he could.

Quill moved gingerly back to his corner, sprawled on his side this time due to the wound. His body was sore, and the wound would need time to heal, but he would live. He had earned his place here tonight. The cave was his to wait out the storm. He laid his head on his paws, ears still alert for any other sounds, but the only noise now was the steady drip of water from the cave ceiling and the distant roar of the storm.

WC-1095

"Quill Klein"