Then
There is a child in the forest.
This, it knows.
Pitched wails pierce through the air, distressed and desperate.
Humans leaving behind children and friends alike, is nothing short of unusual. Pranks, abandonment, and just foolishly getting lost in its forested depths is only to be expected, as the forest sits back and watches, unconcerned.
But with this child, it's different.
Where squirrels and birds would take off at the hint of a human getting too close, they instead lean forward, watching. Cowardly deer hesitantly inch onwards, unsure. Frogs cease their croaking. Chipmunks, mice, and rabbits still in their foraging. Foxes disregard the now oblivious hunting. Badgers poke their heads out of their dens and listen. Cats gather to look.
The entire forest stills and holds its breath.
The child's cries tamper out into whimpers, fragile and heartbroken. For reasons the forest doesn't understand, it wishes to reach out – to comfort this child who was thoughtlessly abandoned by its very own kin. To make it its own.
And so.
That is exactly what it did.
[Why are you upset, young one?]
Now
Turning the hard material in his hands the green-eyed boy frowns.
He's not sure what its purpose is. The two-leg cladded in black carried the item around his eyes.
Why?
He examines it closer.
Bright yellow in color with many indents lining throughout that dip into a cool clear surface on its inside. A thin strap surrounds and wraps around to connect the two sides.
He thinks back to the two-leg and hesitantly slips it over his own head, brushing his fingers over his wild, untamable curls. Holding the strange item by its sides, the boy puts it up to his eyes.
Dark lines obstruct his view. Swinging around still holding the eye gear tightly against his face, he moves around, hoping over dead branches and onto a rather large boulder where he sits.
Humming in the back of his throat he lets go of the yellow eyesore. Where it slips off his head and around his shoulders, too loose for it to stay properly.
Honestly, just how did he fight with that on? He huffs. It's probably the reason he got jumped on in the first place.
The boy's tail twitches.
He might've.... Gone a bit too far when he reached the two-legs.
He only wanted to play! He wasn't originally planning on showing himself, but rather play a game of hide-and-seek.
Making it obvious that he was there, leaving hints, being barely on their edge of sights as they would whip around trying to locate him.
Sometimes they would shout, stomp, and run about. Other times they would be visibly unnerved, their scent spiking in fear at something they cannot see.
The creature found it a bit amusing.
After the first time he encountered two-legs, the green-haired boy tries to stay a healthy distance away from them.
Furred fingers clutch at the loose cloth material covering his upper body.
Bones crushing under his paws, as he pounces on the body hardly bigger than his own in this form. A scream of agony cut short but a strangled gurgle that reverberates through his skin.
A limp body that now lays at his feet as his companion's fear spike up to new levels, starring at the forest creature with pure terror in their eyes.
Two-legs were so...... fragile compared to himself.
But part ways there the overwhelming stench of blood sang in the air. For some reason it sent his hair on end as if he vaguely recognized it scent.
He should've stayed out of this. It wasn't any of his business to intrude in on a fight between two-legs of this extent.
Not when it could easily turn on himself.
Arriving on the scene however, taking in the looming two-leg about to go for the kill had him momentarily seeing red as he struck into soft flesh.
Paws softly pad towards him and he side-eyes the white cat that invites itself onto his rock.
[Found a new toy, did you?] The cat, that he has now dubbed White, meows. [You stink, by the way. You reek of blood.]
This was true. He had not yet visited the river to wash off the now flaking bits of blood that dots his back, face, and neck. [I'll clean up later.] He shrugs. [It's not my fault if you come unannounced.]
[You say that, but you love it when I do. You like my company!] Came the smug reply.
He absolutely does.
Ever since he was given his own territory, he's been terribly lonely.
When he was younger, he lived with a large group of cats on the other side of the river. They looked after him, hunted for him, taught him how to survive as he eagerly took in the information. The green furred creature thrived on their affection, their care, their touch. They didn't seem to mind that he was much bigger than them, only growing more and more as the seasons went by.
No, it was his smell.
Once he grew a certain age, his scent... mutated into something stronger. It clouded their sense and downright made them confused at times.
When he asked about it, the cat looked somewhat shameful as they answered, [You smell like an enemy that makes my hair stand on end. But at the same time, you smell as though you were my own kin. I want to run from you, attack you, and stand by you all at once. I'm sorry, Green One.]
Most couldn't stand it.
But a few didn't seem to mind it.
White eyes his green friend. [So, are you aware that one of your toys is trying to break free from your blue pelt thing? Cause it's about to fall out.]
The cat ducks down to avoid a flying arm as the boy yelps in surprise. He looks down and notices that yes, the blade he looted borrowed from one of the two-legs this morning has broken through the cloth pouch, and precariously starting to fall through its newly made hole.
He grabs at it.
Looking down at the now torn cloth he groans. He loves this pouch, its existence makes it so much easier to carry items and small game around, leaving his hands and mouth free to do whatever he wishes.
Putting the blade in there probably wasn't his smartest decision, but hey. He was a bit preoccupied getting two bleeding two-legs out of his forest.
He wonders if they're alright.
[Hello? Are you ignoring me?] An irritable meow rang out. [I asked you if you were up for some hunting, did you eat yet?]
Grimacing, he thumbs the cool surface of the sharp blade. [Ah, no.] He admitted. [It's been a rather... busy day for me.] He recalled the blood coating his mouth, the temptation to bite harder, down to the bone and let the sensation wash through him. The shame that hit him afterwards. [I'd rather clean myself and sleep, I think.]
Standing up he stretched, arms reaching the heavens, hand still wrapped tightly around the blade's handle.
Straightening out he examines it, watching the light of the dying sun catching on its reflective surface.
He'll just have to carry it, he supposes.
White hops down from the rock and waves his tail. [Suit yourself. I'll just go on my own then] He sniffs. [Go on then, leave me for the company of some fish instead of myself.] With that said, the feline walks off, nose high in the air in mock offence.
A snort escapes fanged lips.
How dramatic.
Waddling against the weak waters current, the boy slowly makes his way deeper. His blue cloth shedded and laying in a crumpled heap under the new blade and yellow... thing by the river's edge.
Ducking under, he stays there for a few moments. Eyeing the small fish that follow the rivers path, scanning the riverbed as he strokes his feet over them. The stones are perfectly smooth and slimy.
He liked the sensation.
Head breaking the water's surface, he takes a gulp of air and slightly shakes his ears, getting rid of the extra droplets.
Cupping water he splashes some to his face and scrubs at it, and the last traces of stubborn blood melt away. He shallowly dips his head under once again and quickly yanks it back, spitting out the excess liquid.
For a while the boy just stays still, floating softly along the river. Listening to the forest as night creeps into its leafy terrain.
He thinks of the black-cladded two-leg.
The boy isn't still isn't sure why he interfered like that. Hurting that two-leg all those seasons ago brought scores of other, bigger two-legs that stomped around. Flooding their stink like a miasma.
In and out they came, over and over. For a full moon.
It left the forest uneasy.
He frowns.
He carried the two out of his territory. The black one in his mouth, and the one smelling of fish onto his back.
It was a bit awkward as the two-leg was very gangly and long. His feet limply scrapping the dirt as he moved onwards.
After removing them, it was only a simple matter of getting another two-legs attention.
Easy, when their land is crawling with them.
The boy blinks.
Nighttime is here in full bloom, now.
Paddling out of the water his feet touches the ground and instantly soaks it. His tail swishing to and fro as he makes his way upstream to gather his things.
Wringing out his floppy ears the boy notices White standing guard over his belongings, a dead squirrel and mouse laying by the feline's side.
Perking up at his arrival, White takes a paw and bats the squirrel forward.
[For me?] The boy replied with amusement as he slips the cloth over his head. The fabric swallows him whole.
White gives him a flat look in return.
Swooping down he picks up the offering, blade, questionable yellow eyewear and tucks them into his storing pouch, sans blade (Not making that mistake again, nope). The pair turns and heads back into the woods, tails held high.
The creatures den starts off as a small tunnel that allows his tiny, slim form slide right on down it, back scraping loose dirt. Clawed feet reach firm ground as the tunnel opens up in a massive room.
Large enough to fit his beast form three times over, (he learned his lesson after his first growth) the green-eyed boy is rather proud of his den. Days spent digging, dumping, packing dirt laboring away on a nice dry place to sleep at night.
A place to stash the things he's come across.
All around the den are two-leg items he's found while wondering the forest, sometimes near the edges of it as well (he's careful to avoid being seen).
A bright red ball that used to bounce high in the air, but now lays in a flat puddle (He bit too hard into its surface, puncturing it). A colorful small cube that twists and turns (He broke a section of it off one day, the piece laying by the biggers side). A flimsy white item that is round with jagged edges at the top, then tampers down like a stick (It makes for fun patterns in the dirt, he finds). Two soft plush toys, one in the image of a bear, the other a bright blue rabbit. A hard, rectangular shaped thing that's rather smooth to the touch, opening it up (It's bigger than his lap!) and you'll see leaf-thin (And just as fragile) sheets with pictures lining them, front and back. The pictures have creatures similar to himself! ...Sorta. They are much, much bigger than him. And rather than being covered in fur, they look scaly, more like a lizard. Some show off them breathing fire, he thought that was really, really cool. He wonders if he can breathe fire (He can't).
The rest of his hoard has some interesting shaped rocks he's found here and there, some in strange colors, some more shiny than usual. Lastly, he has- there. A few more blades the boy found near the two-leg settlement.
One is tiny and he has to grab it in a certain way for it to flip outwards. Another is a shiny silver and has absolutely no sharpness to it at all. Is it a blade? Or a shiny stick? Ah, who knows. The third one has a picture of what he recognizes as large dogs. He thinks that one is rather neat.
He places the newest addition to the pile.
[I swear there's more and more junk in here every time I show up.] White chimes. He's batting at the large lizard pages with a glint as it crinkles under his paw, making the boy eye him nervously as he pries it away from the feline. He's too fond of it for it to get damaged, thank you.
Turning back to his pile he dumps the rest of his haul he acquired from today, haphazardly.
Stepping away from his pile, he shifts into his beast form. Long, curly fury bursts out and covers half his body, scales sprout from his hind legs and dot along his tail and back. Furred paws and clawed feet, he stretches out with a sigh.
A massive yawn splits his face and his sharp, jagged teeth reveal themselves. He straightens out and pads over to a nest of ferns, leaves, moss, and various flowers he tore from the ground. He flops onto it heavily and curls into himself. White, finished with looking around, springs onto his massive form and wastes no time in finding the most comfortable spot and position available in his warm fur.
Soon the den is filled with soft, even breathing as both drift off.
The long-eared creature wakes alone.
As the feline shows unannounced, he also leaves as such.
He wishes the cat would've stayed for longer. It can get awfully lonely, at times.
Leaves crunch under his weight as he shifts in his nest, onto his back and stares at the roof of the den as he lays there.
Emptying his lungs with a heavy exhale he rolls back over and shrinks down. The now-boy hefts himself up and steps out of his nest, ignoring the leaves the cling to his body. He makes his way to the squirrel his friend oh-so generously left him the other day and quickly consumes it.
Burying its remains in the corner he focuses his to the dens entrance.
He passes the black-cladded two-legs obnoxious yellow eye wear, and after a slight hesitation, he scoops it up and continues his path to the dens mouth.
What to do today, he wonders.