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How Not To Become Lunch: 22 - Get A Grip
“Arthur,” he introduced himself. “Welcome to the advanced predator class.”
Fiona stood just a few paces inside the classroom, finding herself at a loss for words. It was just a regular room, but the other kids inside it were anything but. Vampires, dragons, nagas, nekos, and a myriad of other species, each student a fine example of what a predator could be. It was a sight that could well intimidate any new-coming pred, and strike deathly fear into the heart of any potential prey foolish enough to stumble inside.
Here’s the thing, though, Fiona… well she hadn’t really noticed any of that yet. She’d hardly glanced at any of her new classmates; not the avians or the alligators, not the bears or badgers, not even the other werewolves. That is except for one. One specific, very exemplary werewolf, standing right in front of her, stealing every bit of her attention. And now she knew his name.
“Um… Fiona,” she replied after a moment. If she weren’t so practiced as a predator herself in controlling her wits, she might not have even managed that.
“Pleased to meet you.” He nodded politely- or had he just looked her up and down? She wasn’t sure but the thought made her a bit giddy.
She had no words to reply with, so he just smiled at her briefly and then turned away. As he walked off, Fiona took a large but inconspicuous breath in through her nose, catching a solid whiff of his scent as she watched him leave. She stood like that for a moment until she felt her tail starting to wag involuntarily.
The embarrassment brought her back to her senses and she quickly did her best to suppress the all-to-revealing reaction. She took her eyes off him and decided it would be best to find a seat, so she did. She picked one a bit further back, nothing too prominent, but one where she’d be able to glance at Arthur- just if she ever felt the urge, of course. He had taken his seat amidst a cluster of other preds who he seemed to be friendly with, judging by how quickly they started chatting.
Fiona couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about him. Words like handsome and confident didn’t quite hit the mark. He just seemed naturally… leaderly. He was striking and commanding and alluring and- yes, handsome too.
At that moment the collective attention of the room was drawn toward a new figure, just entering through the door. Fiona’s attention was dragged along with it, and what she saw was enough to hold it firmly, even away from Arthur.
An adult dragon, with an inexplicably authoritative aura. His scales were black as a moonless night, with a pair of wings to match- seeming to loom behind him even while neatly folded against his back. In striking contrast rose two, pale, off-white horns from atop his head. They seemed to gleam, along with his curved talons, like celestial objects cutting through the darkness.
Fiona recognized him, not by memory but by description. That could only have been one person. And as he walked up to the teacher’s desk and the room grew silent, her intuition was confirmed. He was Mr. Gold, the head of the advanced predator class.
It might have occurred to her, seeing the voidly color of his scales, to wonder where a name like ‘Mr. Gold’ had come from. But any such question was answered as soon as she saw him speak.
“Good morning,” he said with a quiet yet presiding power in his voice, one which rivaled Principal Tengu. As his snout parted to release the words, anyone with keen sight (practically everyone in the room) could catch the golden glow that escaped along with them, emanating from somewhere within.
“I trust you have come prepared.” When he spoke, it had this strange, almost inexplicable quality. Fiona felt somehow like he was talking directly to her- to each of the students, she realized. He wasn’t just addressing them as a mob, it was like he was keenly aware of each one of them, exactly where they sat, and was speaking to each one individually, just all at the same time. She felt singled out under his gaze, even in the sea of other students, and even when he wasn’t looking in her direction.
In response to his question, a quiet stirring ran through the class, a sort of affirmative restlessness, though no one raised their voice enough to fully break the hush he commanded. Fiona sat silent and still.
“Good,” he replied simply. “A.P.E. awaits. Stand and follow me out. Let’s not keep our prey waiting.”
Fiona became confused. Her new classmates who had only just seated themselves rose and started toward the door. Mr. Gold walked out without hardly a glance- though she felt undoubtedly that he would notice if anyone lingered. She stood too, following his instructions, and joined into the crowd that was filtering out behind him.
“A.P.E.,” she muttered to herself in bewilderment.
“Advanced physical education,” came a startling reply.
Fiona looked to her side. She hadn’t even noticed the other student approach, but suddenly walking beside her was a neko. Not a tigress, or a lioness, or some other illustrious species, just a plain-old cat- though considering which class she was in, that made it all the more impressive. She was slightly shorter than Fiona, with a shadowy coat of dark tones, interweaving to form vague shapes, and a single patch of dull, burnt-orange fur around one eye.
“Once a week we have a shared class with the humans from Advanced Magic,” she explained. “A double period, out in the hunting grounds. They get to test their spells against real predators, and we get to test our skills against tricky prey.”
The neko’s tail flicked, but it was her eyes and her attitude that most grabbed Fiona’s attention. Most kids might have introduced themselves, offered a few pleasantries, maybe asked if she was new and offered to help. But this neko just stared at her unreadably with her unblinking, feline eyes. She had no need to ask if the werewolf were new, she could see it clear as day. And she answered Fiona’s question plainly, without giving away any hint of her personal disposition. Fiona couldn’t say if this girl saw her as a new friend, or a new adversary. And she had a feeling that was exactly the point.
“Most of us just call it ‘the hunting games’,” came another new voice.
“Or ‘the hunger games’,” came a third.
She shifted her gaze. These two students she had seen, but she hadn’t expected them to suddenly take an interest in her. The first to speak had been a toad boy, short but stout, with rusty brown skin and a horned nose. The second had been a dragon boy, a bit taller than Fiona, with dark red scales and an intimidating physique. They walked together, and the neko soon fell in line with them.
Hearing another approach from behind her, this one distinctly different, she turned to see a naga- a large anaconda girl to be precise- slithering toward her. Her eyes were resting on Fiona, and despite her reptilian nature, her face showed more emotion than any of the others so far. She slithered up next to the werewolf- easily twice the canine’s size, tail included- and looked Fiona over with mild approval.
“I’d be careful,” the serpent spoke with a small, genuine smile. “The magic class has a few would-be preds too, and some of them are surprisingly good at it. Us larger preds don’t have much to worry about, but I’ve seen them make a meal out of a number of smaller ones, werewolves included, and they’re usually newcomers.”
The other kids nodded in agreement, then collectively started moving up through the crowd.
“Good luck,” said the naga as she went with them. She seemed to mean it, and mean well by it, but she also seemed to be holding something back, they all did. They seemed to be silently judging her, which she supposed wasn’t unusual, given she was a fresh face.
Her eyes followed them up through the crowd until she suddenly spotted Arthur again, and only once they all fell in sync behind him did she realize that those had been the same kids he had been sitting with back in class. If they were all friends, had they passed by to scope her out because Arthur had talked to her? Had Arthur asked them to scope her out? She felt that odd feeling again and her tail threatened to start wagging, but she controlled herself. She did have other things to worry about, this wasn’t going to be like her old predator class, especially not with A.P.E.
…
All things considered, Fiona was an excellent hunter. She could be quick-witted, and stealthy, and light on her feet. These hunting games were the perfect exercise to hone those skills, or to show them off; nothing like real, claws-to-the-dirt practice. On the short walk to the hunting grounds, she’d taken the time to think through what kind of strategy she should employ, and what kind of prey she should pursue. And by the time they’d arrived, she’d come up with her well-considered answer:
Arthur.
Okay, so maybe that wasn’t so much a direct, well-considered answer as it was just the dominating thought in her head, but it worked as an answer too, so she’d gone with it. A.P.E. was nearly over now, and so far she’d spent nearly the entirety of it stalking not prey, but the other predator. And what an impressive predator he was.
She’d lost him a number of times, usually after he’d crossed paths with a mage student. The conflicts happened quickly, a pred under magical threat had only the time it took for their opponent to speak their spell in which to react. But that only made it even more astounding how skillfully Arthur managed to avoid them. The werewolf always noticed them first, and he was always halfway gone before anyone could utter so much as half a syllable.
Fiona hadn’t really had any close calls herself, but she hadn’t stopped to consider why that might be. She had been too preoccupied with watching Arthur, and finding him again each time he ran off. His scent was practically baked into her brain at this point. Something in her just kept calling her toward him.
And it was calling her now, for she had lost him again, but she was hot on his trail. She stepped quietly through the woods, on all fours to reduce her profile, completely in her element. She followed her nose, sniffing silently as she pushed through some brush.
Suddenly her ears perked up and she froze. On high alert, she moved forward very slowly, until her snout just poked out through a bush enough for her to see. And what she saw, was a human. A mage, wand in hand, muscles tense, eyes peeled, passing through a small clearing. He hadn’t seen her. She sniffed again; Arthur was close, but she couldn’t risk casting about to search for him.
Luckily, she didn’t have to.
Her ears swiveled. There was the dull, swift rapping of feet against dirt. Fiona caught a flash of fur- unmistakable to her eyes- dart behind the human, and then there was a loud rustle as something large dashed through a bush.
The mage spun around, startled out of his skin. He crouched low and looked frantically left and right.
*Ahem*
Fiona’s jaw dropped. Her eyes followed her ears to the other end of the clearing, and there was Arthur. He stood there boldly in the open, erect and proper. Not only didn’t he seem out of breath, but he didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the mage either. In fact he was even idly picking his teeth. …He was picking his teeth… with the magic student’s wand.
She glanced back at the human; his eyes had gone wide as he’d realized the horrible blunder he’d made. Letting the werewolf sneak up on him had been bad enough, but he’d let the predator steal his wand right out of his hand. And that, was a fatal mistake.
Arthur seemed to finish tending to his teeth. He brought his other hand up to hold the wand from both ends, and he looked the mage- his prey- straight in the eyes.
*snap*
Easily as a twig, the werewolf snapped the wand in two. He dropped the pieces into one hand, then put the hand to his muzzle as he parted his jaws.
*gulp*
Fiona shivered, causing the faintest of rustles. The tension in the air was all that kept her tail still. She could smell the fear now, coming off the human’s skin, and she could see him starting to shake. Arthur just stood there for a moment, letting the pressure build. She felt it, mounting and mounting, and just when she thought the air itself might burst, he moved.
One step, aggressive and lightning fast, forward and slightly to the left. The human saw the werewolf’s advance and panicked. He flinched backwards and slightly left himself, mirroring his predator’s movement, and then he screamed.
“Ahhhh!” *thud*
A rock. The human hadn’t had a clue it was there. Fiona hadn’t even noticed it. She wondered if Arthur had. With the mage now on the ground, she looked quickly back towards the other werewolf, but he darted into view before she even had a chance to shift her eyes- so quickly that he must have known his prey was going to fall.
Fiona heard a sharp intake of breath as the human prepared to scream again, but this time he didn’t have the chance. Arthur’s maw was around his head in the blink of an eye. She watched, transfixed. His technique was swift, flawless and fatal. She saw him swallow the human up to his elbows in a flash and then lift him effortlessly off the ground, guiding with his hands and the angle of his head and neck. Knowing firsthand the weight and forces involved, Fiona was amazed at how elegantly the other werewolf took his prey, as if there was nothing to it at all.
It took only the smallest handful of seconds, the gulps barely even audible, and then the human was gone, reduced to a fine bulge in the belly of a superior predator. She saw the meal begin to struggle, but almost before it began she saw Arthur clench his abdominal muscles, hard. She heard a quiet pop, though it might have been a crunch, and the bulge went largely still. She hadn’t even known something like that was possible.
She stared, awestruck, for a long moment. But her moment was interrupted. Just then, she heard something: a small intake of breath, just behind her. Her eyes went even wider. Through some nearly inexplicable sense, she could tell that it had been the breath of another mage, about to cast a spell.
Adrenaline shot through her.
How did I let someone get so close!? But the thought hadn’t been in the form of words, just a blur of a concept that whizzed by in the split second it took for the werewolf to spin completely around and lunge ferociously in the direction her ears had detected.
“Pel- OOF!”
She interrupted the human mid-spell, headbutting him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying. He hit the ground a few feet away, startled, but resilient; he still held a tight grip on his wand and his senses. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be the brave type.
“V-Videre Celare!”
Fiona might have moved to dodge or maybe even attack, except she had her eye keenly on his wand and it was no longer pointed at her. He had it pointed at himself. And then a moment later, ‘himself’ was no more.
Fiona saw a patch of dirt fly up where the human’s shoes had been, followed by the clumsy patter of bipedal steps along with vague indents of receding footprints. He’d turned himself invisible, then turned tail and ran.
She hadn’t even noticed her breathing grow heavy, but she noticed it now as it began to slow again. She slowly rose to her feet.
“That was fairly well done.”
The voice startled Fiona almost more than that human had. She whipped back around, and standing there on the other side of the bush was Arthur. He held an astute, mildly approving gaze, and his chest still somehow seemed lean and fit, even as his belly bulged with his newly claimed meal.
“But I wouldn't recommend letting them get so close,” he added. “It would be a horrible shame to see you end up as a meal, Fiona.”
Fiona was speechless, so just like in the classroom, Arthur flashed her another smile- perhaps holding it for a moment longer this time- and then turned and walked away. He seemed just as comfortable in this forest- with his full belly, surrounded by predator and prey alike- as he had been standing inside with his peers.
As he walked away, Fiona watched, and her tail started to wag.