be nice to me

There was always a risk when a youngster ventured from the safety of home, but Solo was outpacing his siblings in size and that had bred a false sense of security. Not quite self-confidence, but something akin to naivete. So while the alabaster youth was clambering over the titanic remnants of a forgotten age, he wasn't aware of the danger he was in. A massive saber cat had snuck up on him, stalking through the ragged tussocks of grass at a snails pace, waiting for an opening. There were so many, but only one would be perfect. The boy was all legs, and though a precursor to his eventual bulk was evident, he wasn't very muscular. He was chasing one of the few straggling butterflies that had survived the harsh, late start to spring. A small thing, just as pale as he was. The large youngster was being gentle with his playing, harassing the insect with soft whuffs of air through his nostrils. If he hurt the poor thing, the game would be over.

***

The strike came quickly, and without mercy. A massive tawny paw shot out to pull his right hind leg out from beneath him, and the boy tumbled down from the stone he'd been standing on. Searing pain from sharp claws lanced up from his ankle and shin, and into his hip. Within seconds the cat had him pinned between the ground and the edge of that stone with one heavy paw on his shoulder. A sharp cry escaped him, and only instinct saved him from a swift demise. Jerking his head to the side, the impossibly long fangs of the sabre cat sliced through the thick skin along the side of his neck, but didn't pierce the muscle as intended. The quick movement partly dislodged the cat's powerful grip, enough for him to half-roll into a better position. Facing up, his belly was more vulnerable, but he would be able to fight back. He kicked up at the cat's belly with his hind paws, dark claws raking the sensitive skin but doing very little damage. Smarter, more experienced fighters would have known this was such a prevalent attack among felines that they'd long since evolved a fat pouch to protect their vital organs from sharp claws. It was enough to make the cat wary, and the grip slackened even more.

He snapped his teeth at the paw that had been loosened, which was now swinging towards his head for a brain-rattling strike. It still collided, but there was less force as the cat held back to avoid the bite. The impact reverberated through his sinuses, but he wasn't blinded by it. He kicked up again, relying on the force in his growing hid limb muscles to stagger the cat. He curled them up and towards his chest, so when they collided with the sabre cat's sternum, the immense animal was nearly lifted completely into the air. The great beast lost its grip and its footing, staggering to the side and freeing the young Destruction wolf. Solo was far stronger than he'd anticipated, and with the cat winded, he had a chance to put distance between them. Which is exactly what he did, with a swift roll to his left. He got up without turning his back to the cat, lowering his head to cover his neck and raising his hackles. The cat was a bit bigger than him in both height and weight, and that made him nervous. He didn't have a lot of experience with fighting bigger wolves, much less cats.

The pair stared one another down, gold eyes locked with silver. Solo was still deciding if he wanted to run home, but the cat looked more than ready to give chase. In a dead sprint he would almost certainly lose. There was no choice but to hunker down and fight until the cat gave up or died. A few careful steps back added yet more distance, as the boy sought to combat the sheer speed of the cat. He growled low in his throat, baring his now bloodied teeth. Knees and elbows bent, keeping centre of gravity low. He was trying so hard to remember the few lessons he'd had so far. This would be the biggest test he'd faced thus far in his young life. He wasn't kept waiting long, as the cat lunged forward for another attack. Where it went high, Solo went low. He launched off his hind legs to meet the cat in the air, shoving up towards the upper chest and throat with the point of his shoulder. Every muscle screamed in protest, his young body was being pushed nearly to the limits of its endurance and training, but he wasn't about to take this lying down. If he managed to hit right he might be able to, at the very least, wind the cat again. He wasn't opposed to simply scaring it off, he wasn't certain he was ready to fight to the death.

With a sickening crunch that seemed to travel through his bones and into his chest, he felt the cartilage of the trachea break. Not before the cat managed to dig its huge claws into both of his shoulders, sinking deep into the muscles and gouging short, deep wounds into the flesh between his rib cage and armpits. Unaccustomed to this degree of pain, he cried out and felt the muscles in his legs falter. The follow-through of his hit was lost, though that might have ended the fight quickly. The battling pair crumpled, with the young wolf pinned beneath the mass of the wounded cat. He could barely hear the strangled wheezing over the rush of blood in his ears, or the overwhelming throbbing in his flanks. If he gave up now he would be slowly crushed to death. It took a final heave of effort, almost too much to muster, and Solo freed himself from beneath the sabre cat, which grasped at him feebly as he retreated. A few shallow wounds along his back and sides, tufts of fur coming away under its claws in retaliation.

The whites of its eyes rolled, the terror of facing a slow and painful death that lay ahead. Hesitation froze the boy in place, forced to decide what kind of man he was to become. Would he leave the cat to die slowly, afraid of what might happen to him if he got closer? Or was he going to put the animal out of its misery? Tail tucked firmly between his legs, the boy whined quietly to himself. It wouldn't be right to leave it to suffer, even if it had attacked him in the first place. Those massive paws kneaded desperately at the dirt underneath them, grip weakening with each passing second. Solo took a few cautious steps forward, waiting for the bluff to fall away under a renewed onslaught. Yet the cat remained still, agonized, choking on nothing. In a panic, he darted forward, into the space he'd just struggled to escape. He closed his jaws around as much of the neck and throat as he could grasp, and bit down. Yanked back, tore the tissues free. An arc of blood spurted across his face and neck, and the cat gasped. Flailed once, twitched a few times, and was still after a final long exhale.

** (final word count: 1056)

Panting and exhausted, Solo dropped onto his haunches. He'd done it, but now what was he going to do? Leaving the massive cat here seemed like a waste of fur, meat, bones. The borders of Abaven weren't too far, he could probably muster up the strength to drag it home. Then he would probably collapse in the den and sleep for a week. He took a few moments to breathe, take stock of what just happened. Then, just as he always had, he packed it all away to deal with later, and started to lift the dead cat by its forelimbs and sling it across his back for the trip home.

--exit Solo w/ big kitty--

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