Blood and Fangs

Nightfall had settled over the desert like a massive black carpet and everything was shrouded with darkness. Crickets chirped in the bushes expectantly waiting for the second storm to break from the heavens and birds flew in every direction, calling out warnings to find shelter. The sky hung heavy with black, gloomy clouds, which seemed to suffocate the moon and choke the glowing light from it, leaving the stars to shine out on their own. Two sharp winds clashed together over the plains, flicking sand up into terrible sandstorms and flinging it in every direction with full force.

Those chosen to fight for the Keyra had to battle through these elements, with saddened but determined faces. Some were even calling out encouraging words to their friends. The weather alone was like a miniature war and some of the cats had already given up and waited until the wind had dropped but still they all followed and kept relatively up with one another. The cats' ears pounded with the drum of war as they plodded on with the steady beat in their mind, their ears sharp and their eyes focused but sore from the sand. Their limbs were aching but their muscles refused to stop as they carried on through the deep sand and steep dunes, which constantly infected their route. Those who had manes, had hair flicking behind them, slapping their back like whips, and their tails streamed out behind them like kites in a storm.

When the wind finally dropped, it gave way to a mighty crack of thunder and a downpour of heavy, cold rain, which drenched the cats' coats making their spines shiver and their teeth rattle inside their jaws. The rain was like antiseptic as it was flung into their eyes and some staggered about, trying to find someone to support on as their eyes seemed to burn inside their skull. The lightning, which flashed across the sky, illuminated the proceeding enemy, the striped cats, who were also troubled by the weather.

All three sides of the ambush had come together to form a huge array of cats, decorated in war paint and masks to scare the enemy. The Keyra, however, were not fearful but angry with the tribe who were selfish and brutal. The ones who could not share their land with others, the ones who could not see sense, the ones who could not settle anything without shedding blood. The striped cats were pure evil.

Their leader, Balmor the slayer, was leading. He had no accessories but still looked the fiercest of them all. His fur was drenched and cleaned by the rain, revealing his striped and scarred body, which seemed to glow every time the lightning illuminated him. His eyes were like holes in his face as they shone with blackness and hatred for the Keyra and his claws were exposed, revealing cruel fighting weapons which were, like his teeth, stained with dirty blood from past battles. By his side was his mate, Scythe, who looked almost equally menacing and looked like a smaller replica of Balmor. To his other side was Ruff, who had his head bowed from the falling rain and was shivering and mumbling sadly and beside him was Deck' sam, who's mask was shiny and glistening with rainwater. Behind them was their tribe, old and young, all decorated from head to foot with some means of accessory, all either shielding their eyes or helping others along.

The Keyra only came with what they usually had. Those who had tattoos, of course, still had them, and they all wore pendants, apart from Hadrian, and whatever else they wore with it. Raga still had his tattered wings, which made him look lethal and dangerous and even Ali' b, that friendly, kind cat, looked disgustingly at the striped cats. Chem and Dracon were leading, Dracon a bit in front of Chem. They had both decided to be leaders together as two youngsters' brains made an adult's brain, or that's what they thought. Both cats had agreed to leave the oldest and youngest cats behind, who could either tend to wounded or fill in if they began to loose.

Both sides were in no formation whatsoever but their minds were on a one tracked thought, to seek out and kill. The two met, half way across the desert, and the thunder and lightning ceased while they all looked at each other with hatred and sadness. They didn't know whether they would be alive after the battle but both tribes look evenly matched. Balmor had jumped up onto a rock and stood high above the cats and glared down at his tribe and then forward to the Keyra who squinted up at him with hard stares. Below him were Chem and Dracon who both looked expectantly up at him. He laughed and jumped down to face his son,

"You told them?" he asked demandingly. His son looked into his eyes and screwed his nose up,

"Of course I did, the ambush is your greatest plan," he sniffed and then added, "not!" Balmor turned his head away, grieved at his son's tone of voice.

"I take it, you have chosen your side?" he mocked back.

"Ha, I never was on your side!"

"Then you don't want your name?"

"My name?" Dracon asked his expression wiped with worry. His father and mother began to laugh and Ruff joined in with a smirk on his face. Chem stepped forward, with the same glare on her face which she had carried all the way there, and pushed the big, male striped cat back into his ranks. Both sides were taken aback at the young cub's boldness and as Balmor got up slowly and wearily, his jaw slowly gaped open into a snarl, which shot fear through her body.

"You fit in well Dracon," he snapped to his son, "or shall I call you by your full name?" he stepped back, his mouth gaping with anger and disbelief as his father called out to him, "Dracon, the traitor!" He then pounced on the unready Chem, announcing the beginning of the war. Dracon roared out as two of his old friends, from the striped tribe, pounced on him and tried to rip his flesh but countless training with Balmor had proved his worth and he flung the two cats off of him and slashed at his father who was about to thump the young female. Balmor roared in pain as the two cubs tackled him and swept him under the sand but he quickly flung them off and jumped on Chem again.

"It's me you want!" Dracon roared as he watched the two tumbled down the side of a steep sand dune, "Attack me you fool!"

"I'll attack you!" He turned his head to see Ruff hit him hard on the head with a hefty paw and rolled down the sand like he had watched the other two do before him. Balmor's bodyguard was glaring over the ledge at him and just as another flash of lightning, streaked through the sky, he leapt off and onto Dracon, his claws digging deep into his own wounds.

The battlefield was like an obstacle course as the wind shifted and lifted sand through the air in every direction and rain pummelled down, making the ground damp and boggy. Hadrian and Khay' lar fought side by side, both protecting each others backs as more cats circled them and the brave ones bounded towards them. Raga had found his wings to be a useful shield and weapon at the same time as he could flip enemies away dealing a hefty blow at the same time and as he grew used to the pain, he could slowly flutter around in the air for a few seconds, making the job of pinning him, a hard one. Kar just ran around in circles with Ali'b, confusing the enemy and dealing out a surprising amount of damage to dizzy or confused striped cats.

All the cats fought bravely and continuously until their souls gave up and left their mortal bodies. Keyra and striped cats littered the floor, causing those still frantically fighting to trip and fall, giving their attacker one chance to attack which usually proved to be fatal.

When the rain stopped, the war seemed to break up and the cats returned to the rest of their tribe who were huddled in little groups as far away from the enemy as possible. It seemed as if they all had agreed on something, they needed rest. Earnest Keyra talked amongst themselves as a few told others of their pendants allowing them to use amazing powers, while other grumbled that theirs had not done much except get in the way. Chem was still alive, the same as Dracon but Chem was the worse for she was up against Balmor, who was far too strong for her. She had however, given him something to remember. Dracon's coat was smothered in blood and he was crying bitterly for those he had killed but no one laughed or even disagreed with him. They knew it would be hard for the young male to fight his own family but he had chosen the right side to fight on and they would continue to help and protect him, if he protected them. They also had deep sorrow for those they had killed and some even regretted it.

It was the same with the striped cats who were huddled together sobbing with ripped ears and gaping wounds. Some of them were helping wounded and small cubs mewed and licked their dead mothers sadly as the fathers glared at Balmor who showed no remorse for any of his tribe or the enemy. One male, named Anathon approached him and looked around him at the sorrowful figures.

"Slayer?" he asked trying to be in viewing of the evil cat's stare. Balmor turned to look at the male who had approached him and snorted disapproval.

"You did not fight up to your standard today, Anathon!"

"I killed five, Sir-"

"Five is not enough, I want them all dead, God damn it!"

"Sir, I don't think the females or cubs should participate in thi-"

"Anathon! How dare you tell me what to do!" He raised his paw and hit the male square hard under his cheek and sent him flying into a nearby boulder. The cat's body hit the stone and instantly the body deformed as his spine broke and the rest of his bones shattered. He lay spread out on the rock chest upwards, his eyes staring openly with shock at the heavens as blood ran down the boulder as it trickled with the rainwater. The rest in the tribe were wide eyed as they looked at the dead male who they had only heard a few seconds ago talking bravely to the slayer.

"Murderer!" a young cub squeaked at him and bit his leg. The cub's fangs hadn't fully developed so it caused no pain for the male. He turned to face the cub and swung his paw up to strike the cub but something made him stop. As he looked at the shivering cub he noticed it was shrouded in a shadow of another cat, a big male by the looks of it and the scent was vaguely familiar. Lowering his paw he looked up to the rock he had been standing on a few hours before to see Antok snarling down at him as lightning flashed through the sky.

"No, Antok! You're dead!" he said fearfully backing away as the male leapt down in front of the cub. As he began to advance towards him, his paws thudding in his sand, he realised he was being backed towards the Keyra who stood glaring at him. "Attack him, you idiots!" he roared to his tribe who looked on in worry but not one moved. All stared at him with sadness and some even with disgust, the way Dracon had looked at him once. "Ruff attack!" He looked about for his bodyguard but couldn't see him and roared with annoyance.

"Ruff is dead," Dracon said joining Antok's side, with his back to his mother who stared on helplessly.

"Wha-what?" Balmor was beginning to show his fear.

"I killed Ruff!" Chem ran over and laughed as Dracon delivered the news to his father and stood the other side of Antok.

"What makes you think we ain't gonna kill you to?"

"What? What is wrong with you idiots? You are a stupid tribe, will you attack them before I kill all of you too!" This comment brought a few of the striped cats forward and he chuckled to himself as he watched Yenal and the cub come up to him. "So, you have agreed to help? Wise of you, I will make you Generals and…" he stopped as he realised that they were walking past him to the other Keyra who let the two cats mingle with them. Others slowly crossed the line and joined the Keyra and after a few minutes, the only ones who hadn't crossed were Deck' sam and Scythe.

"It's over Balmor," Antok said circling him, "give in." Balmor looked depressingly as Deck' sam ran away over the sand and his mate joined Yenal, who rubbed heads.

"Scythe, what are you doing?" he asked worriedly, "Aren't you going to help me?"

"You have gone too far this time," she replied simply pointing at the dead Anathon.

"Too far," the blue male repeated.

"I will never give in and I will fight to the death Antok, just you and me! A duel!" Dracon stepped forward in protest but Chem's father pushed him back as said,

"No, just me and your father." Chem squealed and shook her head,

"Dad, no! I knew you weren't dead but I don't want you to really die, I don't want to really loose you…for…real!"

"Dracon, Chem, this one's for you," Antok leapt onto the rock again but before the striped cat could react he brought his paws together as his pendant set out rays of blue and yellow light. The split second that Antok's paws met a shot of vivid blue lightning shot through the sky and hit Balmor illuminating his body and making him wail consistently, while the shock shook his bones and his organs burnt. A roll of thunder ceased the lightning, leaving a blackened and distorted figure of a male, striped cat on the ground. The onlookers were surprised, happy and sad that Balmor, the slayer, was finally dead.

"No! Father!" Dracon cried and ran to the burnt body, tears streaming down his face. Scythe joined her son and whispered,

"It was for the best...."

"You felt like me too, you didn't agree..."

"No Dracon, I was waiting for this day to come." She sniffed and looked away as she saw Yenal's cub wander up to the dead Anathon with tearful eyes. He nudged the body with his head, not looking at how the body was displaced and broken.

"Ani," the cub moaned, "Ani, why aren't you waking up?"

Chem gulped and was overcome with the same feeling she had when she though her father was dead. She looked at the Keyra. Every single one seemed to be staring at her, even a few of the striped cats had stopped moaning and turned to pay respect. She was nudged by her father, his warm body and familiar scent comforting her and as she counted her friends: Kar, Hadrian, Raga, Linka and so on...she realised, she was lucky not to have lost anyone too close to her.

It must have been hard for Dracon and she knew how he felt, but somehow she was overwhelmed with a faint hope and watching the cub return to his father she nodded and said,

"It was for the best...it was..."

Copyright of Meghan Fisher