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How Not To Become Lunch: 60 - Fight for What You Believe In
“Alright, Chelsie. Two truths and a lie, what have you got?” Arthur asked as eyes turned to the neko’s chair, her eyes drifting upwards for a moment as her tail flicked idly in thought. She answered rather quickly, perhaps having taken a bit of time to prepare for her turn.
“The patch around my eye used to be bright yellow,” she said in her characteristically flat, matter-of-fact voice, referencing the swath of burnt-orange-colored fur on her face, encompassing just one of her eyes. “I once let a human go in exchange for half his birthday cake, and he continued to bring me cake every week for three months.” A couple eyebrows certainly raised at that one, though nothing in the girl’s tone gave anything away. “And a bully once forced me to swallow my little brother.”
“Do nekos’ fur change colors?” Mort asked, glancing around the room. No one seemed certain.
“Would you really have let a human scam you out of a good meal for some sugar?” Arthur asked her- half-rhetorically, since he knew the game prohibited a straight answer.
“I can catch a human any day. How often can I get free cake?” she countered.
“Are we seriously not going to talk about the ‘swallowed my little brother’ thing?” Pyre asked, “That’s gotta be the lie, right?”
“I’ve never heard her mention a little brother,” Mort weighed in.
“Which doesn’t necessarily point to one side or the other if you think about it,” Arthur reasoned.
“…Dude, that’s dark,” Mort remarked.
“Udon?” Chelsie called softly.
“Huh?” The naga perked up and looked over.
“You’d get this one if you were listening,” she stated factually, somehow sounding both blunt and sympathetic at the same time. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, um… I was just thinking… about Fiona,” she admitted.
“What about?” Arthur followed up.
“I just hope she’s alright. She looked kind of upset when she left.”
“Well, no one likes getting into an argument,” he replied. “But I’m sure her stomach will make her point just fine.”
“She really seemed… attached to that human,” the naga added.
“I know,” Arthur responded with a slow, pitying shake of his muzzle, “It’s a good thing we helped her. You saw how much she worried about that human getting eaten all week, even when we tried to keep her mind off it. Just imagine how much happier she’ll be now without that stress weighing her down.”
Udon gave a little nod; a small, vaguely hopeful smile creeping across an otherwise saddened face.
“Of course, I’m sure someone’s wishing that what’s currently weighing Fi down was weighing him down instead,” Arthur added jokingly, with a rather obvious glance toward Pyre.
“Pff, wouldn’t mind it,” the dragon boy muttered. “She’s lucky I let her have him.”
“Dude, she would have gutted you if you’d tried to take Jack from her,” Mort pointed out.
“It’s not too out of the ordinary for some werewolves to get overly possessive with their food,” Arthur admitted. “And it wasn’t exactly the most considerate idea on her part, bringing a meal like that over and not letting anyone partake. But I think she’s learning. And I, for one, am glad she’s happy.”
“You really think she’s happy?” Udon asked hopefully.
“Of course! How could you not be with a fresh, marked human in your belly?” Then Arthur shifted his address. “What do you think, Mort? How many hours of laying splayed out in bed with a big stupid grin before she feels like moving again?”
Mortimer smirked. “Well, if it’s anything like the marked human I snatched from that dingo that one time, I’d say three or four at least,” he answered, growing a decent grin himself. “She’s probably in for the best night sleep of her life,” he added, sounding as if he spoke from experience.
“There, see?” Arthur followed up, turning back to Udon. “When we see Fiona tomorrow, she’ll practically be a new werewolf.”
*ding* *dong*
Numerous sets of ears flicked towards the door.
“You expecting someone else?” Pyre asked.
Arthur shook his head lightly as he stood up, perhaps mildly annoyed at the interruption, though he didn’t show it. “Back in a second,” he told everyone, putting their already sidetracked game on pause. Casually, he walked to the entrance, oblivious of the two big surprises waiting for him.
The other preds waiting out of sight heard the sound of the door opening, and then of Arthur’s voice.
“Oh- Fiona, you’re back,” he said happily. “And who is-” His words abruptly stopped.
“Did he say Fiona?” Pyre asked. There was a nod or two of agreement. Combined with the sudden halt in his greeting, the nearby conversation had everyone’s attention gripped. Then Fiona’s voice reached them.
“May we come in?” she asked. It was hard to say for sure without seeing, but she certainly didn’t sound like her normal, cheery self.
Arthur didn’t respond, and the use of ‘we’ got the listening preds even more interested. Curious, Mortimer hopped up from his chair and towards the hallway, just as the sounds of three pairs of footsteps started approaching from the door: two bare-pawed preds, and the shoe-falls of a-
“Guys! Fiona’s back, and so is Jack!” Mortimer called back in surprise.
Jack took in each of the advanced predator’s expressions as they came into view. First, of course, being Arthur; as the werewolf answered the door, and his calm, cool expression melted into utter disbelief, standing dumbfounded for a moment before leading them down the hall mostly by habit, as he stared wordlessly at Fiona. Then there was Mortimer, hopping into view and giving a startled blink with clear surprise, before calling to the others. Chelsie appeared as they neared the end of the hall, reacting with nothing more than a slight tilt of her head. Pyre followed; confused, shocked and perhaps mildly enraged. And finally, Udon, with a clearly confused expression mingling with her familiar look of concern.
And what did they all see? A flat, serious expression on Fiona’s muzzle, her belly distinctly flat, her tail stiff, ears perked, and a determination in her eyes. And on Jack, a big, satisfied, karmic smile, as he walked next to her, his hand in hers, taking in their collective look of shock.
Arthur stopped at the end of the hall when he reached the rest of his pack. Fiona and Jack stopped there as well, all eyes on them. A couple of the preds seemed to be on the verge of words, but it was Fiona who spoke first. Jack could feel her subconsciously squeeze his hand just a touch as she took her breath.
“Listen,” she began, “I’m not going to do this anymore. Jack is my friend. He’s my best friend. And I almost lost that today. Maybe he’s just some marked meal to you, but he means a lot more than that to me. It doesn’t matter to me that he’s human, it doesn’t matter that he’s edible, I don’t care how great a meal he’d be, or if every other pred in town wants him for lunch, I’m not going to let anyone treat him like he’s just some walking meal.
“You can like him or not. But if you think you can hurt him, that you can hunt him, that you can treat him like he’s just some difficult catch, like he’s nothing but food; if you think you can convince me that I’m better off with him in my stomach than in my life, if you even want to try, then you are no friend of mine.”
Her expression and her tone both softened a touch.
“I’ve… had a lot of fun with you guys this week… really.” Her voice hardened again. “But this is my best friend’s life on the line. So if you want me around, it’s both of us, together, as friends,” she pulled him closer. “And if you can’t accept that, well…” her words finally began to fail her, so she just made a definitive gesture with her free hand.
She glanced toward the floor for a moment, and then toward Jack, and only when he met her gaze did he realize that he’d been staring at her this whole time. He wasn’t sure if she’d noticed, but seeing her look to him now, after such emotional words, his smile only broadened, the warmth inside washing over any awkwardness. And so she smiled too, squeezing his hand deliberately this time before turning back to face the pack.
Jack turned to face them too… and felt a bit of a chill as he shrank back a little. The five predators stood silent; the air noticeably tense. Their faces held an array of emotion, but none of them seemed particularly happy.
For the first time since- well, since the first time he’d arrived at this party- the thought crossed his mind that maybe coming here hadn’t been the best idea. That first time he’d at least had the ‘promise’ of safety. But this time he’d shown up knowing that they wanted him digested, not to mention he and Fiona were basically challenging their entire world view; they might not take kindly to that.
Would… would they try to rush him down? Would they be able to get away? It would be two against five, and Arthur would literally have the home advantage. Would Fiona’s help really be enough to get him out of there alive?
Would… would they try to eat her too? Sure it was… taboo, to put it mildly, but what if they didn’t even consider her a ‘real predator’ anymore? What if her siding with him had sealed both their fates, and he’d encouraged her to do it?
One of the five finally made a move, and Jack couldn’t help but tense.
The neko, Chelsie, took two steps forward, slow and deliberate. Her eyes were on Fiona. Jack had heard stories about her; heard she’d swallowed another pred just last week because she thought they were ‘acting too much like prey’. His heart began to pound. Her expression was utterly unreadable. She parted her muzzle, and for a split second he felt fear for them both, but she only spoke.
“Okay,” she said plainly. Then she turned from her to him. “Cute skirt, Jack.”
A silent wave of surprise struck all present in the moment that followed. Jack was so dumbfounded that he almost forgot to be scared when she then started walking straight toward him. And when he remembered, something in her unblinking gaze, locked with his, kept him calm- even though he knew how easily a skilled huntress like her could hide her intentions.
But the neko simply walked to his side, opposite Fiona, and then turned to face her pack.
Had she… had she just taken their side!? She had just literally taken their side! He glanced at Fiona, who was looking past him toward Chelsie. She seemed more than a bit surprised as well. But before either of them had time to question it, another voice spoke up.
“Um, Fiona?”
The werewolf turned her attention to the softspoken naga, and so did Jack.
“I… I had no idea… I never knew a human who… I never really thought a human and a pred could ever really be close. A marked human and a pred from the advanced class, I really didn’t think… I don’t know how, but… But, if you- if he’s still here after you- Seeing him still with you after what happened, I just- I just want to say I’m really sorry, Fiona.” She slithered forward, still noticeably taller than both of them, even with her head hung low. “If I’d known how much he really meant to you, enough for you to force yourself to cough up a marked meal, I would have treated him differently.”
Fiona was, frankly, a bit too stunned to reply. She’d more or less come here to tell these jerks off! The best she’d imagined was maybe some begrudging acceptance, not a full-blown apology!
“And, um, Jack?” Udon turned toward him, and seemed to grow even more awkward, as if she wasn’t really used to talking to a human like this. “For you to stick with Fiona after she ate you like that… You must be a really special human… A really great friend. I’m sorry we couldn’t see that from the start.”
Jack was nearly too stunned to respond as well. But he was a bit more used to being dazed and surprised, so he managed a few words.
“Um, thank you. I-”
“You can’t be serious, right?” Arthur suddenly butted in, cutting Jack off as he finally found a few words. “Fiona,” he looked straight at her, “you can’t be serious, right? You had him. You had him. And you just let him go?”
She stared his confused, disbelieving face dead on, and spoke with a bluntness almost to rival Chelsie’s: “Yes.”
“You… That’s… Come on, you can’t just-” he chuckled, as if needing there to be some joke he was missing. “That’s ridiculous. Chelsie, Udon.”
The naga looked back toward him as she finished slithering over toward Chelsie. She met his gaze with a troubled frown, while the neko stared on with her characteristically unreadable expression. Neither seemed to waver in their decision, so Arthur turned toward the boys.
“Mort, Pyre, come on. Tell them that’s crazy. She let a marked human out of her stomach just so it could hang around? That’s insane.”
Eyes shifted to the toad and the dragon. Pyre looked angry, no surprises there, but also quite a bit shaken at the sudden divide between his packmates. Arthur calling on him seemed to give a bit of a confidence boost, though. He rallied his resentment and opened his jaws to speak, but Mortimer ended up speaking first.
“I mean… I think it’s kind of impressive,” Mort admitted, looking first at Arthur, and then to Fiona and Jack. “I don’t even know if I could have done that. She really must like that human kid a lot, kinda gotta respect that.”
Fiona smiled. Maybe these preds really were her friends after all? Not that it was nearly okay that it had taken her literally eating Jack- and spitting him out- for them to accept him, but it was definitely better than finding out they would never accept him- outside one of their stomachs.
Jack met Mortimer’s gaze, a little awkward, but friendly, and Jack felt increasing wonder. A few seconds ago he’d been scared they’d never walk out of there outside of a belly, and now here they were being supported? These were the same preds he’d loathed all week, the same preds who’d devoured all of Survivors Anonymous before his eyes. Exactly how much he liked- or more accurately, disliked- them was a heated question he’d far from settled for himself, but one thing he was sure he felt about them was amazement. Seeing them all come around like this was a borderline miracle.
Well, not exactly all of them.
There were two reasons Mortimer hadn’t hopped over to join Jack and the girls. First, because the hallway where they stood was getting a bit too cramped. And second, because two of his packmates were still standing opposed, one of whom happened to be his best friend.
Jack followed the toad’s gaze up to Pyre’s face. The dragon boy, caught between anger and surprise, was looking quickly between his friends, but his eyes finally locked when they met Jack’s. Jack could see the fury flaring up in the predator’s eyes, and he could feel a fair bit of it himself. The lunchroom, the party, Lance’s chestplate- not to mention Lance himself; there was reckoning to be had.
Jack took a small step forward, still holding Fiona’s hand, and took a deep breath. He faced the dragon straight on.
“Pyre…” he spoke with a scowl and some gravel in his voice. “I… Look, I don’t like you.” The dragon’s lip curled, showing some teeth. “And it’s pretty obvious you don’t like me either. You can keep trying to eat me, and I can keep trying to blast you across the room… or we could just, not.”
Jack gestured with his free hand at everyone around, the tenuous, precarious nature of the moment clear to see. If they broke out into a fight, now or a few days down the line, what would Fiona be forced to do? What would Udon and Chelsie be forced to do?
“I’m willing to give it a try, if you are,” Jack said, clearly with a bit of effort, and he brought his gesturing hand forward and held it out in offering.
Pyre’s expression shifted beneath his scales, his anger faltering, emotions churning like a belly hard at work as something new came to the surface, something Jack hoped with a bit of desperation was reasonable. The dragon boy glanced to Arthur. The werewolf stared, speechless, muzzle twitching occasionally, eyes widened and somewhat distant. Pyre shifted his gaze to Chelsie and Udon, watching him, waiting, and then finally to Mort. The toad gave a small gesture: a little shrug of his shoulders and an encouraging little wave. Pyre looked back to Jack, and the dragon’s muzzle wrinkled up like he was about to snarl, or even snap.
“Ugh, fine!!” He reached out and grabbed Jack’s hand, jerking it up then down in a rather violent shake before casting it away like spoiled meat. “I guess I can leave you alone,” he grumbled.
It took most of Jack’s resolve not to freak out when the angry pred grabbed his arm. He wasn’t nearly as calm and resolved as he’d put on. But he managed to keep his cool and keep most of the shakiness out of his breath. What he wouldn’t keep under control, was the smile that came a few moments later. At first, it was because he couldn’t actually believe he’d managed to convince that crazy, armored stomach-on-wings to agree to a truce. But after a few more moments, it began to grow larger for a different reason.
Jack looked at Arthur.
The werewolf’s muzzle was more or less frozen in a half-concealed grimace. He stared at Pyre, then shifted slowly to Udon, and on through the rest of his pack, his expression somewhere between disbelief, horror and disgust, bound in utter incomprehension. His eyes landed on Fiona, who returned a stern glare. Something, maybe a shift in her grip, pulled his attention over, down her arm to where a human hand was clasped.
Arthur looked over further and saw Jack. Smiling. The kid was grinning from ear to ear, surprised and relieved and happy.
Jack Eten met Arthur Conri’s eyes, and the human boy stared back straight on, without the slightest reservation, and he smiled.
“RrrraaaaAAGHGH!!”
It happened so fast it was over by the time Jack blinked. If the image of a glistening, red maw hadn’t been so painfully familiar to him, he might not have even recognized the blur of a sight which had whizzed past his eyes.
Arthur had sprung; like a coil under tension, finally released; like the snapping of a beam bringing an entire building down. He’d lunged, claws bared, jaws splayed wide, teeth burning for flesh, murder in his eyes.
And then the werewolf was on the ground.
Jack registered a sudden shift in his hand a moment later, the feeling of Fiona moving to protect him, but she was still standing next to him, only a fraction of a step out of place. She’d never reached Arthur, or more accurately, he had never reached her. Someone else had met him first.
Jack’s eyes focused on the dark-furred figure as he next registered the slight gust of wind from his opposite side, and the paw-falls he had heard from that direction. And then finally, as that split-second came to a close, he recognized Chelsie.
The neko had intercepted Arthur midair, hardly halfway to his target, spun him into the ground and pinned him with her knee on his back, one hand around the back of his neck, and the other wrapped around his muzzle, holding it shut against the floor. She’d acted ridiculously fast, so quickly that even the other advanced preds seemed stunned. Fiona wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to stop him so early, unless she’d somehow moved first.
A number of quiet gasps and mutters trickled through the group, as they took in the sudden clash, and in the aftermath all eyes fell on Arthur. They’d never seen him snap before, never seen such utter hatred painted across his face, such a crass, violent outburst from a werewolf usually so well collected. The only person who didn’t look surprised was Chelsie, and that was mainly because she hardly ever showed any emotion in general. Although, looking at the neko now, there was a slight expression to be seen: a look of disdain.
“I really was hoping you wouldn’t do that,” the feline remarked disapprovingly, still composed and matter-of-fact as ever. “This is really how you react to realizing you were wrong? That’s pathetic, Arthur. The idea really is that abhorrent to you, isn’t it? So unthinkable. That Fiona might actually like him, that she would have actually chosen him over you.”
He wriggled vehemently beneath her, but a flex of her claws convinced him to be still while she finished.
“You’ve been so desperate. So desperate to convince us that this is wrong. The fact you feel so threatened by this human boy is pitiful. An esteemed hunter, so secure in his predatory ability, yet so glaringly insecure beneath the fur. Even Pyre had the sense to see what was right in front of him-”
“Hey!” the dragon interjected.
“And yet all you could think to do was lash out. Hardly able to think at all. Hardly a move befitting someone in our class. I just couldn’t tolerate a human like Jack falling to such desperation.”
With a tone of finality in her words signaling she was done with him, Chelsie released Arthur’s head and lifted her knee as she stood. The werewolf growled, lifting his snout off the floor and bringing in his arms to lift his chest as well. His eyes were practically bulging, the hate within matched only by his renewed disbelief, but it was clear he no longer had the guts or the confidence to try another overt attack.
As he pulled himself onto hands and knees, Chelsie turned her back on him, her tail flicking by to smack his nose as she walked casually back to Jack’s side. Pyre and Mortimer inched past him, eyeing him cautiously as if he were deranged. Most of his other former packmates held a look of repulsion and pity, certainly lacking any previously held respect.
He stared on dumbfoundedly for a moment. How? How had this happened? How had his entire pack fallen into this lunacy?! How!? Searching the hall with his eyes as if he could somehow find the answer there, his gaze landed, once more, on Fiona. All the effort he’d put into guiding her, giving her proper friends, a real pack, bringing her up to his level, giving her a place by his side, and this was how she returned the favor? Turning everyone against him and filling their heads with her depraved misconceptions?
“You’ve all lost your minds!” Arthur proclaimed. “Humans are our food! Their entire civilization falls to our hunger! We are the best predators of our generation! How can you let yourselves be dragged down to the level of your prey by her insane delusions!?” He glared vehemently at Fiona. “How many humans and preds do you see buddying up, huh? None! And if you don’t understand the reason by now, you should forget about our class, and our school all together! Humans live here to serve us and feed us!” He stuck his snarling muzzle right into her face. “‘Friendships’ between humans and preds don’t happen because they’re not possible! It’s an affront to the order of nature, and an insult to every predator who ever lived! Humans aren’t meant to be friends, they’re meant to fill our guts! Whatever you’ve convinced yourself to see in that lunch of yours, I promise you it’s not there, and the only thing that is there is a hunt your parents should have had you finish years ago! If you seriously think a marked human is anything more than prey for the hunt and some meat in your belly then you’re the biggest idiot in the history of pred-kind! And one day you’re going to wake up and realize that-”
*THUD*
Arthur never saw it coming. And why would he? Fiona was right in front of him, in full view of his furious glare as he raved at her. Chelsie had stepped out of arm’s reach, Udon was even further back, and Mort and Pyre were no longer anywhere close. Why in the world would he ever have taken the time to look at the human standing next to Fiona?
The answer had come in the form of a tightly balled fist. One that had sent his frantically flapping muzzle careening to the side, knocking him right back to the floor. All while Jack’s furious eyes stared him down, his hand trembling as he unclenched it.
“I am not going to listen to you talk that way about my friendship with Fiona anymore!”
Arthur hauled himself back off the floor with difficulty, visibly shaking now, and put a hand to his jaw to watch the fur come away with a touch of red. The wolf boy looked back up and met Jack’s eyes. And finally, peaking through the layers of fury that had been gradually peeled away, Jack could see the desperate terror churning within.
“G-get out,” Arthur muttered, almost inaudibly before finding his voice again. “Get out! All of you! You deranged mongrels get out of my house!!”
A tug on his hand pulled Jack’s stare away from Arthur. Fiona had taken a few steps back, beckoning him to follow. Chelsie had already opened the front door, and the other preds were quickly on their way out. Jack took one last look back at Arthur’s face, contorted in fear and rage, before following their lead and stepping quickly back into the fading evening air, closing the door behind him.
*clack*
The six of them continued down the block, away from the house, until the werewolf’s shouts faded even from the hunters’ keen ears. And then came a few shared glances, and finally the first words.
“Wow… that was… intense,” Mort remarked as they walked.
“Yes,” Chelsie agreed.
“I… I never saw him act like that…” Udon said.
A short moment of silence followed, broken by Pyre of all people.
“Nice punch.” He said it as a casual, general remark, not even looking at Jack. But he drew a couple of somewhat surprised looks from his friends, hearing him give what was, objectively, a complement to their new human acquaintance. “W-what!? It was!” Pyre insisted, defending himself against their silent glances.
“Jack, that was… Where did that come from?!” Fiona asked. She sounded fairly impressed and looked to him with a hint of wide-eyed admiration.
“Oh, I just… I couldn’t stand hearing him talk about us like that,” he replied shyly, he flexed the fingers of his free hand, now starting to feel sore. “It- it wasn’t really much, not compared to that speech you gave.” She glanced away as her tail fluttered a bit.
“‘Not much’!?” Mort butted in. “Dude, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a human land a hit on Arthur before!”
“Really?” Jack asked, attempting to stay humble.
“Not that I’ve seen,” Chelsie confirmed.
Jack noticed Mortimer stepping a bit closer and looking him over as if he were inspecting for something. The human shrugged off his instinctive reaction at being eyed by a pred and asked with only a hint of anxiety:
“What?”
“It’s just… So you were in a stomach, but you survived. It’s kinda weird. …What was it like?”
“Um, can we maybe not talk about that?” Fiona requested.
“Huh, why?” the toad asked, confused.
“Well, it was Fiona’s stomach, after all,” Udon chimed in. “That does seem like it might be kind of personal.”
“Well, I guess…” Mortimer replied, deciding to drop the subject despite the fact he didn’t really see the problem.
“I thought you were gonna ask him about his clothes,” Pyre remarked. “Brave of him to go out dressed like that.”
“Fiona just swallowed him alive, and now they’re holding hands. I don’t think bravery is a problem of his,” Chelsie responded.
And so their conversations continued, as the six of them continued down the road.