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How Not To Become Lunch: 88 - Be Thankful
“Even in situations where a practically equivalent spell exists, potions can sometimes have several advantages- though also a few drawbacks. The vast majority of potion magic relies solely on the energy provided by the spells and ingredients used in their creation, so actually using a potion doesn’t require any additional effort, concentration or magical input. This makes them invaluable to people with very little spellcasting ability. Though of course even the strongest mage can often find moments when a concentration-free spell would come in handy…”
Jack did his best to focus as Ms. Caster continued her lecture, but the distractions were strong today. He was all too aware that as he sat there, his two closest friends were out in the school’s hunting grounds, playing out the very kinds of encounters that his class so often studied. On opposing sides.
Had Ozzy taken the potion? Had it worked? Surely with Fiona promising to look out for him, Jack could trust that his fellow mage wasn’t currently at this very moment in the process of dissolving away in some pred’s churning gut… right? And what about Fiona? It wasn’t like she was completely safe either; it was rare, but up against the best mages of their generation- the best mage-preds of the generation- even the best natural predators like her sometimes wound up on the lower end of the food chain…
“This is all offset, of course, by the time and effort required to craft them, the strain of carrying them around, loss due to expiration, and of course the natural inefficiency principle which generally holds that a potion will require more overall magical energy to produce the same effect compared to an equivalent spell. In the more detailed historical accounts of great magical duels, you’ll often find that the combatants took great care in deciding exactly which and how many potions to carry. Yes, Billy?”
“Was dueling really that big a thing? Were there actually that many?”
“Oh yes. In fact many…”
Come on, Jack, if you’re going to be distracted in class, at least try to focus on something a little less stressful! He scolded himself and tried to refocus- not on the actual lesson, which still seemed completely out of reach- but at least on something better.
The sleepover. He was going over to Fiona’s tonight. The thought instantly lifted his spirits a bit, despite the present pressures. He pondered for a moment how wild it was that he could be looking forward to it this much. After all, a third of the people who lived there wanted to swallow him up, and two thirds had succeeded, but still he could imagine the warm, safe, welcomed feeling he always felt when he visited.
His thoughts drifted to Arin for a moment, as did his eyes, remembering the other day when he’d visited his classmate’s house to work on Ozzy’s potion. Jack had been in a totally pred-free house, with crazy locks and other mages to look out for him, and yet… he wasn’t even sure if he felt much safer there, somehow. And his parents had been nice, but… he couldn’t say he’d felt particularly warm and welcomed-
“…Jack.”
The marked boy’s eyes suddenly snapped back to the front of the room, catching his name at the end of a sentence he’d otherwise missed. His hungry witch teacher had her eyes on him again.
“For a scent-based effect, would it generally be more effective to use a spell, or a potion?”
He gulped, feeling the pressure, and worked his mind. Luckily, his mind returned an answer. Or, more accurately, a question.
“Um, a large effect or a small one?” he asked. She raised an eyebrow.
“Large.”
“Then, um, I think a potion.”
“Despite the natural inefficiency principle?”
He hesitated uncertainly, likely the response she wanted, but he stuck to his answer.
“Yeah, um, potions for smells are usually a lot more potent than lots of other kinds, right?” he answered. “Even without a lot of magic, if you use the right ingredients. You’d only use a spell over a potion for that stuff if you wanted a really light scent. You know, assuming you had a potion to use.”
Caster smirked.
“Very good, Jack,” she praised. “In fact, if you’re going for a very light scent, it can actually be quite tricky to brew a potion mild enough. This counter-intuitive aspect comes from the interplay between magic and chemistry, where…”
Jack let out his breath. Once again, having grown up with an aunt who brewed cosmetics had saved his skin. Still, that had been a lucky break. If her question had been anything else…
The marked boy decided he’d better get back to focusing on his class. After all, he did want to survive long enough to get to that sleepover.
…
“Still haven’t gotten used to this new class yet. That gets kinda intense, huh?” Fiona chatted as she made her way down the hall.
“Yeah, I guess,” replied a fiery-red dragon boy. The unspoken ‘not really if you’re me’ part was clearly implied by his tone.
“I guess you are better off. More experience, bigger, natural armor, being able to fly,” the werewolf admitted in series.
“Yeah, gotta say, being a dragon has its perks.” He couldn’t resist smirking just a bit. Not that he would boast so openly in front of the whole group, but if the newbie wanted to compliment him when they were on their own, he wasn’t going to turn down the chance.
“So, why didn’t you want to wait for Mort?” she asked to her lone companion.
His smirk disappeared, replaced with a scowl as he grumbled beneath his breath before actually replying.
“He was going too slow,” Pyre complained in excuse.
“Oh, that big belly full of advanced mage must have really slowed him down.” Now it was Fiona’s turn to smirk. “Well, we can’t all walk away from A.P.E. with a full belly, right Pyre?”
The dragon, with his flat, empty gut, rolled his eyes.
“Whatever, he’s just lucky.”
“Lucky, and a good hunter. You both are. I’m sure you’ll get another one eventually.”
“…Yeah… I mean, of course I will.” The hothead played it as cool as he could, but while Fiona was still getting used to her new class, he was still getting used to her. Sincere, casual support was kind of a change for him; Mort joked and jabbed, Chelsie was usually either silent or blunt, Arthur had always just set the standard and made sure everyone kept up; the closest he really got was Udon, and she’d always come off as a bit too… sappy for him to take seriously.
Fiona, for her part, just thought it was kinda funny watching the silly boys bicker, and was happy she was fitting in with her new friends. She’d even started talking to one or two of the other kids from the advanced class; it turned out all that extra pressure was good for bonding. Thinking about it, she was sure there was some kind of chemistry joke there, but she wasn’t half as good at science compared to hunting, so she couldn’t quite figure it out. Maybe she could ask Jack when they got to his classroom?
They rounded a corner, moving with the flow of schoolmates on their way to next period. Naturally they scanned through the crowds; as empty-bellied predators at lunch time, the thought of a good meal wasn’t too far out of mind. Especially for a certain dragon who might be looking for some redeeming catch to even the score with his amphibious rival.
Rather than spotting food, Fiona’s eyes caught sight of something else.
“Oh, hey, there’s Ollie.”
“Who?” Pyre asked.
“The otter girl from our class? The one with the great fur? I asked her what product she uses, but apparently it’s just the natural waterproof oils in her coat. Now that’s something to be jealous about.”
“Pft, furries,” replied the scaled-covered dragon.
The semiaquatic predator, a bit further down the hall, was seemingly busy filling up after a hard double-period in the hunting grounds. Though she hadn’t managed to catch anyone during the hunting games, it looked like she’d just made prey of some poor kid in the hall. Fiona wondered if she should slow down and try to chat with the otter after the swallowing was over with, just to say hi.
“Wait…” Fiona murmured.
Pyre looked over and saw the werewolf’s entire demeanor change over the course of two seconds.
“OLLIE! OLLIE, NO! STOP!”
“F-Fiona!?” The dragon exclaimed, but she had already taken off at full speed, dashing through the sea of schoolmates like a lightning bolt.
The otter girl heard the screaming of her name by a semi-familiar voice, and the third or fourth time was enough to finally pull her back from the pleasure-soaked trance that was emanating from the delicious marked meal slipping down her gullet. When she turned and saw the wide-eyed werewolf rushing at her, it was even enough to give her a mild sense of distress!
“OLLIE!” Fiona yelled again as she skidded to a stop- just short of barreling into her classmate. “Please! You gotta stop! That’s my best friend you’re eating!”
She watched the otter grow a rather puzzled look on her face. The face which was currently wrapped around the thighs of her meal. Jack’s familiar pants and shoes still adorned his wriggling lower half as he desperately flailed for freedom, and Fiona could see the clear bulge her dear friend was making in the otter’s neck and chest, as his head pressed dangerously further into the predator’s hungry, eager stomach. Now that she was up close, his unforgettable, and regrettably irresistible scent tickled her keen canine nostrils, only spurring on her rescue efforts.
“Let him out! Please! Come on!!”
The otter looked at her almost cross-eyed.
“Wha?” she muttered over her meal. The idea of equating this delectable human in her gullet with a dear friend that needed to be freed was seemingly a hard one for her to process. Meanwhile, with the flexing of her jaw, the help of gravity, and the natural inclinations of her body, that simple and vaguely unintelligible question caused Jack to slip that much visibly further into her distending midriff.
“NO! Don’t suck him in more!” Almost instinctively, the werewolf reached out and grabbed Jack’s flailing ankles. It was a move she often had to perform on her own meals to get them down easy, so it didn’t take much effort. She held on tight and braced; not quite going so far as pulling him out of her classmate, but at least hard enough to keep him from getting any closer to digestion while she tried to plead his case.
“Wha a you-!?” the interrupted otter complained, trying to wrap her head around the situation. She tried muttering a few more things, none of which sounded particularly acquiescent, but it was hard to have a clear conversation with a human in one’s mouth- as so many predator parents often pointed out to their kids.
“You can’t have him! He’s my friend! I’m here, Jack! Don’t worry!”
Ollie, now very clearly understanding that this other girl wouldn’t be backing off, looked around for a moment at her passing peers, as if hoping that maybe one of them would walk up and help calm this crazy wolf down enough so she could finish her amazing meal in peace. The sensation of his tender marked skin pressing out against her throat was absolutely wonderful. Not a moment later, she noticed a dragon boy approaching them.
“Pyre!” Fiona called, noticing the same. “Help! She’s got Jack!”
“W-What do you want me to do about it!?” he asked sharply.
“Tell her to spit him out!” Fiona braced against a potentially unconscious gulp on the part of the otter, as the predator’s hungry body worked hard to suck down this stand-out catch.
The semi-stuffed girl glanced over to her draconic classmate with a look of, ‘What!? She’s nuts, right?’
“Seriously?” he asked. “I mean, she caught him fair and square, I’m not gonna-”
“PYRE!” Fiona barked, gripping her best friend’s ankles for dear life.
The red dragon almost flinched, and suddenly his memory of Arthur didn’t seem quite so intimidating anymore.
“Okay! Geeze!” Pyre shifted over to addressing the poor predator just trying to enjoy her lunch, and with a bit of reluctance he said, “Look, just cough the guy up, alright? Trust me, she’s not gonna let him go, and he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
The otter now glanced between the two of them for a moment. With this marked meal’s taste cheering her on, she’d been confident enough to stand her ground against one challenger, but two of them? What’s more, she was starting to recognize them both as other members of her advanced pred class, which meant they both definitely had the bite to back up all this barking…
*guuuurgle* went the otter’s frustrated stomach, no doubt squelching loudly around Jack’s ears. But it was a squelch of indignant defeat. With a rather pouty expression, the predator made the difficult move of relaxing her throat and leaning forward.
Fiona pulled the moment she saw the other girl’s intent to release, and with a quick, hard tug, she yanked her precious marked human free from the literal jaws of death. With a long, wet squelch and a spattering of otter saliva, both wolf and man fell back onto the hard ground.
The first thing Jack registered as he returned from the panicked haze that was ingestion, was the sensation of something soft and lumpy moving under his weight. Next were the impressions of voices, some more familiar than others, and eventually the words themselves.
“I’m sorry, but he’s literally my best friend.”
“This marked human kid?”
“I know it sounds nuts, but she’s telling the truth.”
“Pyre!”
“What!? It does sound crazy!”
“Ollie, thank you so much for letting him go. I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah… um, don’t mention it, I guess.”
“Seriously, thank you. I owe you one.”
“…Fiona?” Jack murmured, finally recovering enough to speak again. She’d gotten out from under him by this point and was now kneeling by his side.
“Yeah, I’m here,” she replied encouragingly, then her tone shifted a touch. “What were you doing out in the hall? I thought you usually wait for me in the classroom?”
“I, um, kinda got worried, I guess…” he explained, trying to recollect his thoughts. “You know, with A.P.E. and everything.”
“You were worried about me? I’m not the one who almost got eaten!”
“Glad to hear,” he muttered, regaining a smile despite the situation. “But how was I supposed to know that?” Then the full irony of what he’d just said sank in and he added. “Geeze, is this what it’s like for you all the time?”
“Yes,” she almost growled. “So try not to do stupid things like wandering around at lunch time, okay?”
“Sorry, I actually made it past two other preds on the way here. I thought I was getting pretty good with my magic.” He spotted his wand, discarded on the floor nearby, and reached over to retrieve it.
“Yeah, well, she was from my advanced class.”
“Oh, that explains it. Well, thanks for saving me… you know, again.” He smiled at her.
“Yeah, well, can’t have a sleepover by myself.” She smiled back. “Oh, but you better thank Pyre too.”
For a moment, the dragon looked almost more like a deer in the headlights. ‘Me!?’ read his expression as both others looked up at him.
“I mean, you were halfway down an advanced predator’s throat, I’m not sure what I would have done if Pyre hadn’t been there to help convince her to let you go,” the grateful wolf explained.
“Really? Wow… Um, thanks, Pyre,” Jack offered.
The dragon glanced away and shrugged, projecting indifference. Fiona helped her human friend back onto his feet again, wiping off some of the stray otter drool from her clothes, then turned fully to the dragon boy.
“Thank you,” she said earnestly.
He shifted his gaze back to her, even glancing at Jack for a moment, and though his scaly expression did not change, he did mutter two words, almost under his breath.
“You’re welcome.”