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HNTBL 46: Watch Your Back

By: TheDragonBoy

Summary

I wonder how hung up Fiona is about her morning encounter with Jack? Oh, she has other things on her mind, doesn’t she?

Content

How Not To Become Lunch: 46 - Watch Your Back



“Do you really think you can do it from this far away?” Udon asked, considerate and concerned as always.

“Of course he can!” Pyre replied confidently. “He’s been practicing for weeks!” But after a moment of silence, he seemed to second-guess his assertion. “…You can do it from this far, right?” he ended up asking, much less confidently and much more discreetly.

“Oh yeah,” came Mortimer’s smug reply. He was smirking, clearly happy to be the center of attention, but he had his gaze firmly set on the passing students, rather than any of his friends. More specifically, centered around a particular locker, one which served to mark a point a sizable distance down the hall.

“You’ll miss your chance if you wait much longer,” commented the matter-of-fact Chelsie. Class was starting soon, which not only would require them to take their seats in the classroom, but also meant that other kids were doing just that with every passing second, leaving fewer and fewer students out in the hall.

“I’ll get one…” the toad assured.

Fiona watched with mild interest, glancing back and forth between Mort, their passing schoolmates, and of course Arthur. He seemed rather entertained by Mortimer’s little bet; she felt she could almost hear the thoughts passing through the other werewolf’s head, as his eyes flicked between wandering humans, trying to predict which one their amphibian friend would select.

Her eyes were on him when she heard the sound.

*thwack*

Like the crack of a whip, the sound of Mort’s tongue pulled her gaze back to him. By the time she caught her first glimpse, it was already flying through the air at a fierce pace, hurtling down the hall, a pink streak passing between passers-by.

*splat*

“Eeeep!!”

A little low, but he’d hit his mark alright. Distracted and in a rush, obviously late, the human girl had just stopped to open her locker when she’d felt the firm impact of the toad’s hot, slimy tongue against the back of her calf. It molded around her skin instantly, securing an unnervingly strong grip, and giving the smirking amphibian a generous taste of early lunch, and from a range most preds could hardly hope to cover with their largest, bounding pounce. But, of course, he was after more than just a taste.

It was certainly impressive; Fiona definitely couldn’t argue with that. She watched his elongated tongue tense, and saw the distant human yanked right off her feet, dragged across the floor and then lifted clean off as she entered what Fiona could assume was a more comfortable range for Mort’s unique appendage.

*schlorp*

Almost as impressive as the range of his tongue was the elasticity of his amphibian maw: able to stretch large enough to envelop his entire meal at once, and contain all their squirms and struggles, not to mention the force of their arrival. And Mort made it look easy. As his catch fought and squealed between his cheeks, he hardly shifted a foot in keeping his balance. In stark contrast, he shifted the girl around in his slimy grip quite readily, getting her into position for-

*squelch*

Not a swallow, in fact much the opposite. His lips parted a bit, and out slid his meal’s butt, splattered and dripping with drool, with her legs and chest still trapped within. Mortimer reached out for her waist and relieved her of the wand still dangling there. She wouldn’t need it where she was headed.

His powerful tongue dipped back out around the curves of his prey, and she was sucked back inside just as quickly as when she’d first entered. And this time, her disappearance was followed quite quickly by a loud, unceremonious-

*GULP*

And all at once, the human girl squirming in his stretchy jaws slipped down his throat and landed with a rowdy jiggle in his welcoming belly: a freshly caught meal, his for the churning.

“See, told ya he could do it!” Pyre declared.

A round of well-deserved praise came Mort’s way; a satisfaction almost as nice as the squirms settling into his gut.

“Yup, bet you all wish you could do that,” he bragged, though he meant it mostly as a joke. Mostly.

“Hey, don’t get too full of yourself now, you won’t have room to keep your lunch,” the dragon boy countered. “Besides, we all know wings are the best for hunting anyway.” He flexed his own to show his point.

“You know, I think I’ve actually seen Mort snatch more humans into the air than you,” Arthur pointed out.

“Only ‘cause you only see me hunt indoors,” Pyre insisted defensively.

Fiona giggled at the response Arthur had managed to bring out.

“We should take our seats,” Chelsie chimed in, interrupting the scene with a reminder of the clock.

“Oh, she’s right, we gotta hurry,” Udon agreed, worriedly slithering towards the classroom door.

The rest of the group followed suit, single file into their shared advanced predator class, with Mortimer and his bouncing belly bringing up the rear.





“Don’t fall behind, now,” came Mr. Gold’s voice from the front of the procession, without even looking back. Fiona did glance back and caught sight of a neko who’d been dragging but now suddenly quickened her pace. Even with his back turned, walking through the halls, Fiona could still feel her teacher’s gaze on her somehow, ensuring she was following the rest of the class on their way to the hunting grounds.

As they exited the building, following the path toward the fenced-in bit of forest, Mr. Gold began to address his students. Being a collection of some of the best predators in the school, he had little doubt that they could all hear him even as they walked.

“I know most of you have done this before, but there are a few of you who are new, and I’m sure a few more who could use a reminder of the objective in this exercise. What we’ll be doing is a variation on ‘hide and seek’ or ‘play hunting’, a technique used for generations to train young predators of all kinds. But we’ll be following a specific set of rules.

“You’ll be training in pairs of your choice. In each pair, one of you will start out hiding while the other hunts. In the role of hunter, your target will be your partner and only your partner. You are not to reveal or otherwise interfere with any of the other students who are hiding. A skilled predator is precise; able to identify and track their prey in the midst of others without raising an alarm. In addition to locating your target, you must also secure them, either by pinning them, or positioning yourself for a blow which would incapacitate them. A set of claws to the throat is often acceptable for the latter, though I do not expect to see a drop of blood. You must learn to use your knowledge of your target’s location to get them into a position where you have control. Accidentally injuring your partner does not show you have control.

“In the hiding role, your goal, obviously, is to remain concealed and unrestrained. A skilled predator is adept at stealth and can remain out of sight of their prey until it is their time to strike. A skilled predator can also anticipate their target’s movements, an ability well practiced by learning to avoid other predators yourself.”

Largely focused on his words, Fiona faintly noted the sound of Mr. Gold opening the gated entrance to the school hunting grounds. The wind ruffled her fur, blowing gently from behind, beckoning her inside along with the others as their teacher neared the end of his instruction.

“To ensure each of you get fair time in each role, we will switch on my say, not when someone is found. Now, I’ll give you a few minutes to choose your partners and decide on who will be taking which role first.”

Being her first time doing this, Fiona took a moment to process the stream of fresh instructions. She wanted to make sure she understood everything, because the last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself in front of her friends- and Arthur. In the meantime, those more experienced friends of hers were quick to start partnering up.

“Ready for a rematch?” Mort asked Pyre challengingly.

“Heh, good luck ever reaching the treetops with that belly weighing you down,” the dragon boy replied, stretching his wings.

“So you’re planning to hide up high, then?”

“I- Well, I wouldn’t tell you, would I?”

Meanwhile, a few paces away, Chelsie was striking up her own conversation.

“Want to partner up?” she asked Udon.

“Oh, aren’t you usually with Arthur?” the naga responded. The mention of that name tugged at Fiona’s attention, just as she started to realize she needed to find a partner of her own, and just a moment before she realized that she definitely wanted that partner to be Arthur.

“He has other plans,” the neko replied, as if it were obvious.

Other plans’? Fiona glanced around inconspicuously searching for him, only to realize that he was standing right next to her. Rather close to her, actually, almost as if-

“So, think you can keep away from me?” he asked.

“Oh! Um, well…” The casual inquiry sent her mind racing. It was already flustering enough that Arthur had chosen her to partner with, without her even asking him, but then considering the actual question meant comparing her skills against Arthur’s… Arthur! He was probably the most amazing pred she’d ever seen! But she couldn’t sell herself short either, especially not in front of him! She frantically came up with an evasive reply: “I’ve never tried this before- not since I was a kid- so I’m not sure.”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out then,” he replied with a friendly smile.

The lump in Fiona’s throat kept her silent after that. Luckily, there wasn’t much more to say. She took a deep, inconspicuous breath in an attempt to steady herself, and tried to think through what was about to happen, but she’d hardly managed to think through any of it before she was interrupted.

“Sounds like you’ve all agreed on pairings,” Mr. Gold said, his relaxed yet commanding voice cutting through the chatter, which then quickly died down. “Those hiding should head into the woods. Hunters are to wait here for my say.”

A number of students immediately sprinted for the tree line. Fiona, watching them go, realized she should be doing the same. She glanced back at Arthur, even as she was turning to leave, and saw he had a powerful look in his eyes, one that struck her deep. He was settling quickly into his natural role. He said one more thing to her as she went, his voice unchanged, still calm and friendly as always.

“See you soon.”

Fiona took off into the foliage along with half of her class. As she entered the shadow of the canopy, something inside her clicked, a flux of instinct, readying her for action. Too bad for her it was all far buried beneath her thoughts.

Okay, gotta find a place to hide. Where can I hide? ‘Hide’!? How am I supposed to hide from any werewolf, let alone Arthur!? If he’s learned my scent half as well as I’ve learned his he’ll be able to find me halfway across town! And of course he has because he’s an amazing predator. That realization only flustered her further, and thoughts of Arthur carefully noting the finer points of her scent began to fill her mind, but she pulled herself back.

She caught sight of a few of the other hiders as she tried to focus. A couple of them broke off to climb nearby trees, and one winged classmate took to the air. Another broke towards some protruding rocks which might serve as good cover. For a moment she thought she could see Chelsie, but a branch passed across her vision and then the neko was nowhere to be found. Fiona began to realize that the longer she took, the fewer places would be available to hide, and she made an effort to focus even harder.

Maybe I shouldn’t hide? Maybe I should try something else? There’s a stream in the hunting grounds, maybe I could try to cover my scent? No, that would never work. My fur takes forever to dry. He’d track me to the water then follow the puddles from there. Should I try climbing a tree too? I’m not that fast a climber, he might find me before I can get up there.

Ugh, come on, think! You can’t just run until you hit the back fence! Maybe I should focus on keeping my distance? Yeah. Mr. Gold said the hunter has to capture their target, not just find them. If I find somewhere I can see him coming, I can just keep moving before he finds me.

There was a slight flaw in that plan, in that it would have been better for her to have thought of it earlier and taken a position closer to the front, where she’d be able to see him from the start. But there was no changing that now.

Within a few seconds of searching, she found a bit of brush that would match her fur tones. And it wasn’t a moment too soon. Just after picking it out, a shadow passed overhead. Looking up, she saw Mr. Gold had taken to the sky, looking down over the hunting grounds. A few seconds later, she heard a not-so-distant yelp, as one of the other hiders presumably failed in their task. The hunters were on the loose.

Fiona ducked down quickly behind her chosen cover, placing it between herself and the entry gate, and peering stealthily through the tiny gaps in the foliage. She steadied her breathing, trying to calm herself. She looked around, trying to find some potential secondary positions while moving her head as little as possible, constantly glancing back in the direction she’d come to check for Arthur.

She kept not only her eyes open, but her ears as well, alert for every little noise, searching for the pattern of footsteps. But it was another sound that ended up grabbing her attention.

*gurgle*

It was muffled and distant, but a hard noise to miss. And a few seconds later, it came again, closer this time.

*gurgle*

Fiona glanced over and caught a hint of movement, someone passing hastily through the trees, heading in her direction. As they got closer, she could glimpse the contours of a large, bulging belly.

What the…? Did one of the hunters eat their target or something!? …Wait… Fiona noticed a familiar scent blow her way, is that Mort?

Through a break in the trees, she finally got a good look at the toad, running as fast as he could through the woods with his freshly filled belly tossing back and forth with his stride. His food was obviously slowing him down. And as he approached, Fiona could hear him panting faintly, as well as muttering quietly under his ragged breath.

“Just have to make it to the stream,” he told himself.

Fiona watched him sympathetically for a moment, imagining the bellyache he must be having trying to run while lugging all that human around in his gut. The girl he’d eaten hadn’t any chance to soften up yet, which Fiona knew meant all kinds of uncomfortable jabs in unexpected places. And that was assuming his early lunch wasn’t still kicking, or this would be quite the unpleasant experience for both of them.

Either way, it was about to get worse.

She heard before she saw. A faint whistle, growing quickly closer, and then a loud flap and a flash of gleaming red. Fiona watched as Pyre swooped in low and, in a blink, snatched his amphibian target off the ground, bulging belly and all.

“Ah! Whoa-whoa! Oof!”

In a very well-executed maneuver, Pyre pulled up sharply to bleed off momentum, letting his passenger’s weight do most of the work, and then came groundward at a shallow angle, flapping hard to keep a reasonable speed, and dropping Mort when they were only a foot or two off the dirt, sending the toad stumbling harmlessly into the side of a tree, where the dragon boy proceeded to pin him firmly by the shoulders.

“Ha! Told you you’d never be able to hide with that belly of yours! I could hear it from the gates!” Pyre gloated. Mortimer looked mildly disgruntled.

“Well I would have been able to if I could just reach-” he stopped himself, realizing he would be hiding again in a few minutes’ time and he’d be better off not revealing his plan. “Nevermind,” he dismissed. “Come on, let’s go back.”

“You and your gut need a lift?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

The two of them started off back toward the gates. As Fiona watched them go, she felt a bit sorry for Mort, having to play with a handicap like that, though she also couldn’t help but admire his thinking. If he had been able to make it to the stream, it would have been the perfect way to cover up the sound of his belly, plus she was sure he’d be much more mobile and far less conspicuous underwater.

A fresh scent brought Fiona fully back to the task at hand.

Arthur! She’d still been keeping an eye out for him, of course, but with his scent now brushing her snout, the other two preds practically disappeared from her mind. She scanned the surrounding trees intently, searching for a glimpse of fur.

A tiny gust blew by. The werewolf’s scent grew stronger.

He’s getting closer. But where is he? I can’t see him yet. Okay Fiona, think. How is he going to attack? Try to get into his head. What do you know about him? He’s a top-notch hunter, an excellent tracker, um, he’s light on his feet, his ears always lower just a hair when he smiles, the sheen on his fur makes him look so handsome when he- No, Fiona focus! What do you know about his hunting skills!? Well… well I know he’s got really good hearing, so I need to make sure I stay as still and quiet as I can until I spot him, then at least I’ll have an idea of where I can go to avoid-

It was the softest, quietest little sound that reached her ear; she wasn’t even entirely sure what it had been, but it sent alarm bells ringing in her head, her instincts screaming. She whirled around, twisting her whole body in a flash.

Arthur was right there. One foot off the ground. Eyes wide. Arms out with digits splayed. Mid-pounce.

Fiona couldn’t think of a moment she’d ever been more startled than in that split second. But a split second was all she had.

*thud*

It was a rather soft impact, dirt and grass scraping fur and fabric. Fiona had already been crouched down, so she didn’t have much distance to fall. And twisted around like that, she was in no position to flee or resist or do much of anything other than simply topple over at his whim. She felt a furred hand clasp around each of her wrists, a clawed paw against each of her shins, and she was pinned.

She looked up. There he was, maybe a snout’s length away, bearing over her, looking back down at her with that endearingly handsome little smile and a predatory intensity in his eyes, now waning as he settled into his victory. He took a deep breath, and by virtue of their position it couldn’t help but wash over her.

Oh, if there were ever a time Fiona was thankful that werewolves didn’t blush, and that her tail was pinned behind her.

For a long moment, neither of them moved beyond the heaving of their chests. A very long moment. One that to her felt like a small eternity in which she savored every instant. And then just before it might have started to get awkward, Arthur spoke.

“Found you,” he said, just a hint of playful teasing in his voice.

Fiona did not have a response.

Arthur looked over the werewolf pinned beneath him. Perhaps he was just confirming beyond any doubts that he certainly had her pinned, perhaps it was for some other reason. Either way, a moment later he shifted his legs off hers and onto the ground, released her wrists and stood himself up.

Fiona watched his face retreat away from hers, the tips of his ears shifting slightly in the rush of air along with his fur. He brushed a bit of dirt from his hands and then reached one down to fill the space where his muzzle had been a moment ago. Fiona, having only barely steadied her breathing, took hold. His grip was much firmer than hers, and she very nearly yelped as he whisked her back up from the dirt with hardly any effort on her part at all.

Becoming ever more aware that she’d still yet to say a thing since he’d arrived, she forced herself to speak even as she was still clearing her head.

“…That was good,” were the words she managed to string together. Unfortunately, she realized just a second later that they had been embarrassingly simple words, and she groped for new ones to take their place. “How’d you do it?” she ended up asking.

“The way the breeze is going, the gate is upwind. I knew if I moved fast enough, you’d have my scent coming in from the front, but you wouldn’t be able to catch my downwind scent from behind.”

The simple brilliance of his approach left her speechless again, though that wasn’t much of a feat at this point.

He’s so cool and collected. He knew exactly how to get me. No wonder he’s such an amazing pred. If he can catch another werewolf like that, no human could ever stand a chance.

“You ready to head back to the gate and try that again?”

The fresh image of Arthur crouched over her rushed through her mind. Try that again?

“Yeah- uh, sure,” she replied.

Arthur took the first few steps forward, and Fiona followed.