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lordragoon
I woke up, my head spinning, my senses bombarded by too many scents, too much pain. The smell of human was the strongest, the scent of fresh scrubbed skin on every surface, even my fur. I licked my nose reflexively, clearing it of human smells and the sweat of my own fear. I opened my eyes, my vision blurry. Some time passed before my sight returned to normal. A thick wire mesh surrounded me, some sort of cage. I lurched to my feet, shaking the dust out of my fur. A few motes were still stuck against it; I brushed them out with my forepaws. Then I directed my attention to escape. Claustrophobia hits cats hard. This place smelt of too many other predators, and the taste of metal in the air caused me to panic even more. I needed to get out.
Cold steel, with only a few strands of hay to cover it, met my footpads. The cage itself was well-built, the holes in the mesh far too small for me to stick more than a single claw or fang through. I padded around, circling in the small room I had. There was no way out but the entrance. I took another look at the door. It was a steel grid, held in place by rope. I tried to gnaw through it, but the only reward I got was a metallic tange on my tongue and an ache in my fangs. I couldn't reach the rope. I took a few steps back and lunged at the door, hitting it with both paws. The metal pushed open a few inches and stopped while rope groaned in protest. After another two such lunges, the rope gave up, pulled apart by the force of a leaping tiger. The door clanged open, giving me some hope.
Now I was in a larger cage, a room to myself. The wall were made of fabric. I was in some sort of cave. A few smaller cages sat next to the one I had just escaped from. I took a few deep breaths, my head spinning. I remembered a good hunt, then a run to a high tree to rest. Then waking up to the hand of a god punching me in the side, knocking me out the branches. Finally, a thin river of blood leaking from my side, matting my fur against my flesh. I was still weak from the attack. I stalked around the room, looking for an exit. There was none. No door, no opening. I dropped down onto the floor, waiting for a way to escape. Or a human to be stupid enough to walk in. A breeze brushed my whiskers back. I stood back up. A fold in the cloth blew open, showing me a glimmer of light. I was in a tent. The fold was tent flap. I passed through the cloth.
A blaze of light blinded me, pushing my head through more pain. I blinked rapidly, waiting for my eyes to adjust from the half-light of the tent to the bright sunlight. It was midafternoon, the sun low in the sky. I looked around, tasting the wind.
I could tell I was very far from my territory, a day's travel or more. Tents surrounded me. The smell of humans was obvious, but I could smell a few prey animals as well, rabbit and deer. Then another scent hit me. Another predator... a big cat. A male.
I glanced toward the scent's source. Another tent. There were no humans in sight, and most of their scents weren't fresh. A less feline part of me wanted to help a fellow cat. I padded into the tent...
To stare into two blood coated eyes surrounding feline pupils. "Get away!" they growled. I found myself on my ground, my tail pressed against the dirt. The scent was too much. He radiated a sense of power, the smell almost physical. But there was a subtone of worried age, a taste of energy subdued; not only by time, but by hate and a cage. Before me stood an ancient animal, not a tiger. His fur was gray with age, with no stripes. He had a thick circle of long fur around his neck. Lion, an almost forgotten part of me muttered. His fangs were yellow. He bared at me.
I finished the customs of submission. "I'm not here for your land. Let me get you out."
"White fur... on a tiger who would help another male?" The lion sat down on his haunches, and started patting down his mane. "Don't try help me escape, whitefur."
"Do you like living in a cage?" I asked, my tone angry. I knew that every moment I spent here made escape that less likely.
He lurched back to his feet and padded to the front of the cage. "I don't. I hate it." He lifted his left paw and pushed down on the air. Instead of the long, bone white claws I expected, all that protruded from the clawsheaths were stubby offwhite square tips. "They took my claws. I can never go home now. I will never hunt again. "I took a step back. I could taste his pain and his anger in the air. Just the concept of the torture he had gone through made my stomach churn. His whiskers quivered as he put his paw down. He snorted, blowing air toward me. The scent of fresh meat came with it. "But they feed me, protect me. I've even taken a mate here. There are worse ways for my time to end. Now run, blue eyes. They will be back soon, and they can stop you with ease. I doubt that you want to follow my path." He closed his bloodshot eyes and patted his whiskers, trying to remember something. Then he muttered, his voice low and quiet, but harsh. "The sting will take you to your cage." He turned around and dropped onto the hay around his feet, blowing a cloud of dust into the room.
"What sting?" I asked. The lion snorted and covered his nose with his paws. I turned and clawed my way out of the tent.
I tried to figure out what the lion had meant. I didn't understand him, but a word kept muttering in my ears, flashing past my eyes. Sedative I didn't know what it meant, but it felt important. I glanced around. The smell of human was stronger, fresh now, but I couldn't see any. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to find my territory. It was to my right, toward the setting sun.
There was a yell, a human voice. I turned to face the sound. A tall human male stood about five yards away, a gun in one hand and a tent flap in the other. He dropped to one knee and aimed it at me. I turned as he pulled at the gun. Instead of the loud pop and bone shattering crunch that I expected, there was only a rush of wind. A feathery column of dust rose to my left.
I ran as fast as my sore paws and aching muscles would let me. Another blast went past my face, a close miss. I took a glance at the world around me. The land was flat, low grass and the occasional bush dotting the area. The ground itself was hard clay, a thin layer of white sand covering dark grey dirt. Not an easy track to run on. There was no place for me to hide. A third breath of wind ended with a sickening, wet thud and an explosion of pain in my tail. I kept running, stretching my tired muscles.
The humans couldn't keep up.
I half jumped, half fell into a shallow ravine. I followed it until it hit an overhang, a natural cave. The cave was deep enough that I could hide in it. The pain made me fall onto my side, a numb feeling in my tail and back paws. A plastic dart was stuck into my flesh, about a foot from the tailtip. Get it out, my mind whispered. I flicked my tail toward my face and clumsily patted the dart... the sedative... until I pulled it out. My head hurt; my balance was too far set off to even walk. I curled into a ball, pressing my tail against my nose. Let the dream begin.