Writing Prompts (SFW)

Rykleth

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15 February 2025
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Hello!
Back in the old Furaffinity Forums, there was a writing prompt thread I enjoyed.

The rules are simple:
  • Pick a prompt you like and write a short story following it.
  • Create your own prompt.
  • Repeat.

I'll start off with the first prompt:

Moonlight
 
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Prompt: Moonlight

Cool fall air had settled across the open field as only a few stars managed to poke through the clouds obscuring the night sky. Near pitch blackness had covered the land with only the distant light of town trying to peak over the distant trees. Unseen crickets, hidden in the tall grasses, chirped and frogs croaked loudly from their calm pond to the east. Gently rippling waves shimmered in what little light managed to beam through the shield of clouds lazily drifting overhead.

Laying face up in the tall, slightly damp grass, a man cradled his head as his knuckles brushed the lush, green weeds. A cool breeze swept over him, catching his loose shirt and pulling it upward slightly. Should there have been enough light, his modestly toned stomach would be revealed; the cool air tickling his exposed skin. Heaving a relaxed sigh, he shifted and sat upward with the grass shuffling quietly beneath him.

No more than three feet from his right, sock covered foot was the silhouette of another sitting within the darkness of the field alongside the man. As he took in the black outline of his companion, a brilliant beam of light from the moon poked through a small break in the clouds. The ray illuminated a woman with her back turned to the man. She had long, slightly wavy hair and was dressed in nothing more than short shorts and crop top. Taking in the sight of his closest friend, the man’s gaze shifted upward as wind pushed the mass of clouds out of the way.

Gentle, blue eyes shone brilliantly in the bright light of the full moon as the massive orb in the night sky, peppered with shining stars, watched over the darkened world. Fixated squarely upon the glowing moon, the man could hear his own heartbeat pounding away at the inside of his chest. At first, the rhythmic beat was quiet but gradually grew louder and louder to the point that it drowned out the nighttime orchestra surrounding him. Lifting his hand upwards, fingers cupping around the beautiful ball in the darkened sky, the man noticed the dark gray hair that now covered his hand.

Although his heart raced wildly within him, a certain calm settled over the man’s mind as that darkly colored fur began to crawl down his arm toward his body like an infection. The corners of his mouth tugged back into a slight smile as his fingernails narrowed and sharpened into large claws atop his digits. As the new hair worked its way along his bicep, the muscle beneath his skin could be felt constricting before pushing outward as it grew in size. With a quiet snort of amusement, the man felt the fur crawling up his should and under his shirt. His entire body began to swell with growing musculature. His shirt had quickly become tight against his being as it continued to balloon with this sudden surge of growth. While the fur covering his body reached his face and head, the quiet ripping of shirt stitches popped in his ears.

A slight pressure built in his face as his bone and skin began to push forward. The man’s nose began to melt into the structure that had started to grow from his jaw while the ears on either side of his head migrated upward. A furred snout entered the lower-center of his vision, the metamorphosizing man’s nose having darkened and grown wet, as ears erected themselves atop his now fur covered head. Each of the ears were now pointed, having grown triangular from the usual lobes he was use to.

Finally, looking toward his waist and legs, the man watched as his jeans were already in the process of being torn apart by thickly muscled legs. A new pressure had built in the man’s lower back, the tightness in the rear of his pants quickly becoming uncomfortable. Shifting on his hindquarters, the man could not help but chuckle at the audible ripping of fabric coming from the backside of his jeans. Turning to inspect the damage, his smile only grew wider upon his now muzzle-like mouth at the sight of a furred growth swaying back and forth just above his rear. Finally, his legs popped as bone and joints shifted beneath the fur-covered skin.

Rising to his now paw-like feet, having broken free of the socks he had been wearing, the man stretched. A sweet, gentle laughter met his ears that perked up unconsciously as he exhaled loudly after loosening his immense muscles. Looking to where the laughter had come from, his large, blue eyes were now directed to where his companion had been sitting. In her place was a furred form much like his own. Covered head to claw-tipped toe was a feminine version of himself looking up to him with a kind smile upon her muzzle.

His companion offered her large, fur-coat covered hand to the once-man. With a beaming grin, he accepted the gesture and pulled the female in close. The two stared longingly into one another’s eyes before sharing a passionate kiss. Allowing one another a moment to catch their breath, the two turned and took off into the dark night as the clouds rolled back through and blotted out the glorious moon.



My understanding is that I’m meant to propose the next prompt so how about “sunrise”.
 
dawn.png


It watched.

The town below was quiet.

The dark blue sky slowly gave way to light grey, the colors shifting closer to the eastern horizon.

Unmoving, still. Its fur mat, its veins cold, its eyes a deep blue.

The town below was quiet.

It wasn’t always.

Before it arrived, they played. Played music, song. Every night, joy.

The town below was quiet.

It watched, from its cave, its crypt. Once, the town sent people for him.

Their metal armor now rusted below, their forms unmoving, silent.

It watched.

The town below was quiet.

No longer joy. Only fear. Windows boarded, families huddled.

The music was gone.

The east had hues of orange and yellow now, a small sliver peaking over the horizon.

A prelude to something greater.

It watched.

The town below was quiet.

Before, their song reminded it of something.

Something lost.

It watched.

The sky was no longer dark.

It stepped out.

And heard music.

--------------

Prompt:
Magic
 
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(Alright... I'll give it a whirl... Prompt: Magic)

"I can't fight against magic, what do I do!?" Miri called out.

"Sssleep, of courssse..." Ahmose replied, amused, waiting for the mouse at the bottom with his jaw cracking wide.

She growled back, keeping her fingers tight on the ledge as glass ampules spilled from her satchel down to the ground below. Swaying back and forth the black serpent took it as a game, dodging the falling debris like some sick joke. With hardly the trouble, he could rise up and snatch her where she hung. Ahmose was a giant, a cobra greater in size than any lizard. He might swallow her whole and still hunger for more.

Then what stopped him? Why did he linger at the bottom, waiting for her to lose hold instead? Maybe it was nothing, perhaps just for his amusement. Or, it could be vital. She dare not look back, his eyes, his gaze, it was too powerful. They dripped with a festering magic. One glance, she would be caught; trapped deep inside whatever mind he deigned to craft for his pleasure.

They would be home. She would be sitting by the glowing warmth of the hearth with her mother, sharing a blueberry muffin glazed with butter. Her father would be there too, and he would have left medicine behind long ago. Mortim would be alive. Sunny would be better. Tricu would be swinging a wooden sword, instead of an iron one.

No one gone because of her.

It would not be real, but it would be better.

"Come, there isss no need for thisss... you have faught ssso very hard. Run for ssso long. Are you not tired, exhausssted? Let go. Come to me. No need to trudge through the ssswampsss and marshesss any longer," he hissed, tongue thrusting forward in delight, tasting the very air with every flick.

"The swamp? How did you-"

Of course. That was it! A smirk simmered across her lips.

"Y-you are correct, sir," she replied, grip almost gone. "It is quite tiresome. And I cannot stand against your magic. No one can. But- I am no magician desperately trying to counter spells..."

She took one final breath. "I'm a chemist you dimwit!"

The mouse swung around and whipped her satchel wide. Every ampule, every vial, every jar and ingredient spilled out in a heap. The hogweed, the mustard seeds, the distilled salts, and the jarred fire as well. Alone they were mild to such a beast. Together? They were deadly to anyone...


(Prompt: Spring)
 
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(I've attempted to incorporate both the suggest prompts 'Magic' and 'Spring')

Warm rays of sunlight filtered through the verdant, lush and leafy branches hanging overhead. The tree limbs had effectively stretched over the long dirt pathway to form an almost perfect shelter from the recent showers. Patches of damp, squishy mud still remained along the road in the more shaded regions under the old, wooden towers. The scent of flowers wafted through the pleasantly cool air, carried by gentle breezes that managed to slide past thick and sturdy trunk to pass over the scene.

The otherwise tranquil and serene springtime local, however, had been disturbed by the whistle of two arrows flying through the air. Tripping over her own boot-strapped feet, the young dragonborn woman had only barely managed to catch her blue, pointed hat on her descent to the ground. The clumsy display had been a true blessing, however, as the arrows fired at her soared right through the space her head had since fallen from. With a panicked glance back, she had only managed to make out a single humanoid form surrounded by several beastly creatures.

Scrambling back up to her scaled feet, the dragonborn broke into a sprint down the dusty road as another projectile sailed just over her shoulder. Her heart pounded angrily against the inside of her chest as her feet pounded the dirt beneath her in a desperate bid to escape this assailant and their monstrous pets. Unfortunately for the assailed, the road was a long straight path with no cover to hide behind. With no other option available, the dragonborn swallowed hard to the anxiety rising within her throat and jumped off the road and through some brush only to tumble down a steep hill.

Falling head over heels and finishing out her uncoordinated tumble by rolling over and over at the base of the hill, the young woman lifted her head as the world around her spun in circles. Groaning slightly and shaking the dizziness from her vision, her attention was immediately drawn to an audible thumping having landed in the soft ground just a foot from her head. Shimmering eyes had gone wide at the sight of another arrow having planted itself in the forest floor beside where she had just landed. Looking back up the hill she had just fallen down, her attacker loomed over with bow drawn and beastly companions already rushing down the incline.

Growling angrily, a sudden cold chill began to nip at her fingertips. A frigid mist began to form around the dragonborn’s left hand. Despite the rage clouding her judgement, the scale-covered woman focused her mind and breathed deeply. The same mist seemed to expel itself from her nostrils as she exhaled. With a forceful roar, the dragonborn rolled over and threw her hand in the direction of closer of the two animals chasing her.

A massive shard of ice materialized before her outstretched hand and was immediately cast from her palm with force to rival the villain’s arrows. The projectile whistled much more loudly than the smaller bits that had been directed at her as it soared directly into one of the snarling beast’s bodies. With an audible shriek, the massive bolt of frozen solid water had lodged itself within the hunting animal. Grinning with somewhat malicious amusement at her success, the dragonborn pushed off the ground and continued to flee from her remaining foes.

In her haste, the dragonborn had to push her whole weight off trees and leap over dips in the terrain or over fallen trunks. Every step seemed to be followed by another arrow flying just over her shoulder; as close as every shot had been, she was certain that this vile archer was merely playing games at this point. Such arrogance by this mysterious enemy was utterly deplorable. The dragonborn could feel rage quickly overwhelming her entire being at her attacker’s antagonizing. Through her rapid panting, the dragonborn could not suppress the growling that rumbled in the back of her throat.

With a snarling hiss, the dragonborn threw herself behind the next tree she laid hands upon. Her heart raced within her chest and assaulted her eardrums as she tried to catch her breath. Having pressed her back to the thick tree she took shelter behind, the dragonborn had choked somewhat on another breath at the snapping of twigs just a few meters away. In that instant, she was utterly mortified that the archer had caught up so quickly. The young female dragonborn’s terror, however, faded almost as soon as it had appeared; in place of fright, she had summoned up both anger and willpower to face off against her foe.

Once more, the frigid embrace of frost bit at her fingers as the cool mists began to cascade down toward the forest floor. Having made up her mind, the dragonborn shifted on her feet and leapt from her cover with her hand prepared to cast another magical attack. Unfortunately, she paused, petrified in sheer disbelief and horror, at the sight of an arrow pointed at the space between her eyes.

“I win,” the archer, a lynxfolk, claimed before letting loose the arrow notched in his bow.

“Ow...” the young dragonborn girl muttered as she sat upon the forest floor. Her tail had fallen into a cool patch of mud along with her right hand that helped support her. Her other hand had been lifted to rub her scaled forehead where the arrow had bumped her. Laughter erupted from the lynxfolk standing over her before quickly settling down with a loud sigh.

“I finally caught you! I win this round!” the dragonborn’s ‘foe’ exclaimed excitedly. Looking up from her spot on the ground, the reptile watched the young feline boy dance in celebration of his victory while spinning his plastic, toy bow. As she looked up, the dragonborn focused on the thin shaft to the plastic arrow that clung to her smooth, scaled forehead by the plunger tip stuck to her head. With a sigh, she pulled the arrow off her forehead and climbed back up to her feet.

“Yeah, yeah, but I’m gonna get you next time! Start running!” the dragonborn girl playfully declared to her friend. The two shared childish grins as powdery snow simply appeared and fell from the reptile’s open palms. With an enthusiastic laughter, the archer turned and fled the scene as the mage began the to countdown to her ‘hunt’.

Next prompt: Dedicate
 
(Gasp! A delightful and warming twist Hollowcore)

Here's one for Dedicate:

—Thump…thump…thump…

Every step shook the floorboards. Sliding doors trembled in their tracks. The modest manor he had so kindly been set inside quivered as the wooden bones within waned and groaned.

“Kitty—Kitty, come little kitty. Why not you here? I want pet pretty fur,” the voice called with childish delight, every word particular and slow, the tone like wet flesh scraping gravel.

Jiro huddled tighter in the dark. Hanging robes draped over his fur as the muffled words of the beast beyond the closet spoke. His cadence made it hard to think the wretched thing had not learned to speak that very day.

“I have paper little kitty. You mine now. Come out, I show you new home. Have special place. Mmm… make me hungry looking for kitty. Kitty taste good, but lots of fur… You come now, have paper!”

The gray feline, petite as he was and a runt to the rest, winced once more.

That was it. His life reduced to a crumpled yellow scroll he had signed at the age of five. To dedicate not years, but near two decades to constant study, only to be bought and sold like a toy to some terrible monster. Sold by his own father.

This was not meant to be.

Jiro was to be a scholar. One of the greats, a magnificent philosopher pondering the many meanings of life. Languishing in the halls of academia at all hours, toiling in the sunbaked libraries in the heights of summer… no minute spared nor day of break allowed. Every waking moment was dedicated for the test that would come next.

Little else mattered, but perfection. His father accepted nothing less. Only here and now did the fool realize, it was never to make him better. Merely so he might be more appealing to the right bidder.

Jiro clenched his teeth. He scowled, his brow aching his head at the effort. Another thud. The feline jerked and jumped. Folded robes fell from above, padding him in colorful silks and smooth bedding.

His heart raced faster and faster—was the house collapsing!?

Shivering, he huddled tighter on the floor, squeezing his arms around his legs. No more could he hide his breath or calm his aching heart, the sounds of both loud in his ears. The beast beyond would surely hear.

Slowly the thumping began to fade. Still the wooden floor quaked, trembling beneath the tremendous weight of a half-ton beast lurking the paper-thin halls, but now it grew quiet the further away it went.

Now was his chance—he had to take it.

Panting all the same he rose from his place, throwing off the clothes across the closet. With an ear to the door, he waited. There was nothing, at least not near. Somewhere beyond the walls his father cried and begged for mercy, cursing Jiro’s name and promising many gifts to the other beastly things hunting him down.

He cracked the door. Only a peak. The room beyond was bright, the papery walls letting through the light of a vibrant evening sun just above the pines surrounding the manor. Furniture sat crushed and cast aside. Tables and desks were splintered into pieces. The sliding door to the hall had been ripped from its tracks, the frames snapped like twigs.

“You get us new one, runt!” An ogre barked from outside.

“Yes—yes sir, I promise, you can take him too and do what you wish when you find him! Mix him into a stew if you like! I—I heard our feline bones are… are good luck to some! This is a violation of his contract, I assure you. No excuses, this is entirely my fault!”

The words tugged at his chest. A momentary lapse, but he shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts, turning his gaze back to the hall.

Now or never. He only need make it outside. Ogres were big, fat, corpulent giants that lumbered as they walked. Once in the forest, he would be safe. They would give chase, but he would be faster, more agile among the many trees.

Running to and frow from class to class for fear of being late was a skill he had honed since he was a child. Now it was needed more than ever.

Confidence renewed he flung the closet door wide. The air rushed through his hair as he scurried for the shattered hall. His paws gently smacked the wooden floor with a frantic meek thump.

“Caught you!”

“Gah!” Jiro cried.

A giant paw grabbed him from behind.

“Bah ha ha!” the ogre bellowed, his tremendous belly bouncing with every breath. The dog stood ten times his height and one hundred more his weight! His short tail curled like a crescent moon. His limbs rippled with muscle, each thick as a tree. Their fur shined a sandy brown and a soft white.

Like savages they were shirtless to display their corpulent midriff. Only sheets of thick colorful cloth, and polished leathers tied with wide ropes wrapped around their waist to keep them in modest taste. This one wore puffy leather gloves and some fur pelt over his shoulders.

“See kitty? Aren’t Junji smart?” the ogre beamed with pride, pointed ears fixed forward and tail wagging. His mouth hung open in a wide smile while his tongue lolled to one side. He lift Jiro higher, face to face with his terrible jaws and dark yellowing teeth. The beast’s spittle and humid breath flecked across the feline’s fur as he spoke.

“Junji pretend he walk away… and speak lower until he stop. Then he wait quiet. Junji is smartest dog, yes?”

Jiro winced, cowering still with his eyes shut tight. With a whimper he continued to tremble. Quickly he nodded in agreement to placate the beast. Still he tensed, waiting for the moment the monster would snap his bones with a single paw or tear his arm away with his teeth.

“Then… cat think Junji good to teach?” the canine inquired, hopeful with gleaming eyes.

Jiro opened an eye to look back at the giant. The white brows over his eyes quirked upward in hope. His ears sagged, fearing the wrong answer.

“You… want to be a te—teacher?” Jiro’s words came with caution.

“Oh, Junji not that smart,” the giant shied. “They say cat be teacher. Cat think Junji smart to teach?”

Slowly Jiro uncurled in the ogre’s grip, both eyes opened wide as his nerves went still. “Well—Yes? I suppose, well I mean of course. Anyone can be taught. It just… takes the right attitude… I guess.”

The wide smile returned, tugging from ear to ear across the dog’s muzzle while his tail swayed rapidly behind his enormous form.

“Then Junji be best student! He never disappoints teacher! He always on time, and do everything he say. Be most dedicated student ever! Promise, if teacher make Junji smarter.”

“Well—sure,” Jiro’s own lips erupted with a smile as the fear melted away. “I can be your teacher. I would love to! Is that really all you want? Is that why you bought my contract?”

He nodded quickly, still holding Jiro in the most undignified way. “Father say it be a good smart idea. He and mother idea, but Junji like it too.”

“Oh—Oh my goodness. That is… not what I expected!” Jiro laughed, letting his body go limp while the aches of tension faded. “I’m terribly sorry, I’m such a fool. I’m an academic… I should know better. I’ve only heard terrible stories of ogres. Truth be told, I thought you wanted to eat me!”

Jiro chuckled nervously, ashamed by his claim. Junji offered his own boisterous bellow, accidentally shaking the feline as he did.

“Oh! No thank you, Junji already eat cat today," the ogre replied, patting his belly. "But new teacher not worry, Junji try not to break like last teacher. I make sure sister not try to steal you. Cat last much longer this time!”


Next Prompt: Intelligence
 
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Fauve


2042: Paul Owens Home:


"You wanted to see me?", Fauve said as she entered the living room.

"Yes, hop up", he said as he patted the cushion next to him. She did so, curling up.

Fauve was a gray cat the size of a lynx, with bright, yellow eyes. She began to wonder, sensing something wasn't right.

"Paul?".

"Yeah, something happened today... At the Institute... they're beginning to catch on. I don't know how much longer... I explained how you came into being?"

"I remember: they were working on genetically engineered designer pets, and you said I was yours".

"I'm afraid I wasn't 100% honest with you..."

"How do you mean?! About what?!"

She stood up.

"Sometimes, we discovered that the development didn't go correctly. Sometimes, neurons began multiplying at an accelerated rate, almost like a cancer. Or so we thought. These embryos were destroyed. However, I kept yours a secret, and let you develop to term. You looked like what we designed, you were physically healthy. It was months later when I discovered that what happened was we created a sapient animal. You have all the intelligence of any human..."

"I'm not seeing a problem here?"

"If they found out about you, they would want to experiment... They would dissect your brain... In the name of science, of course"

"WHAT?!"


"You wouldn't be allowed to live..."

"They can't do that!"

"I'm afraid they can. You aren't human, and you are a GMO, and therefore property of the Institute".

"Why?", she cried out in horror and desperation.

"Maybe I made a mistake -- lots of them -- I wasn't totally honest, and I tried sheltering you from some ugly realities. One of those realities is that humans are a very egotistic species, and we see ourselves as being so far above the rest of the beings we share this planet with that we can use, abuse, and discard them as we see fit. You know your Old Testament?"

"I know: God created man in his image"... "Have dominion over the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and the fishes of the sea. Into your hands are they delivered".

"This Bronze Age ignorance is still with us today, and as virulent as ever. If my years with the Institute taught me anything, it's that, in reality, humans aren't so special, or different".

"Then... what? What the fuck do I do?", Fauve sighed almost to herself.

"I have a plan. It won't be easy, but you go on living by going to the wilderness where you can hide among the wild cats".

"I don't know..."

"I know someone: he's a professional wild life rehabilitator. You can trust him, and he will keep our secret. He's rehabilitated lots of cats and other animals, some even having been domesticated, for release in the wild. We're talking animals who don't have your special advantage".

Fauve's eyes wandered over the room.

"I know it will work a hardship, no more soft cushions, no more meals awaiting every day, no more video games and web surfing..."

"Maybe I should just turn myself in, get it over with..."

"Don't say that! Don't even think it. You will live, you'll give up the modern conveniences, that's a given..."

"I'll be alone"

"No you won't. You know enough astronomy to calculate dates and times. We can always plan meet-ups. There are also other cats. You can start a family, become the mother of a new race. You will live and have a life, and that's the most important thing".

She thought about that for long minutes.

"So who is this friend of yours?"

"His name's Wild Bill Donovan. He's a crusty old cuss, but you'll like him. He's one of those types, he either hates your guts or he's your best friend. He loves his cats. We'll see him next Saturday".

Fauve settled into the soft cushions of her cat bed, knowing that this was the last times she would sleep in such comfort.

II

They pulled into the parking lot at the rehab center. Bill, the director, was waiting.

"Bill", Paul greeted.

"Paul... it's been too long"

"They're keeping us busy. My apologies..."

"No need to apologize. It's the same here. Always more animals to take care of. Road strikes. Trapping accidents. We just took in a fox. Poor thing, he pulled out the stake and ran into the woods. A hiker found him hanging from a tree branch and called it in. He may lose that leg, hoping for the best. The idiot didn't check his traps like he was required to do. He'll lose his license.

"That her?"

He asked as Fauve was looking out the window.

"Yes: Fauve".

"Bring her and follow me".

Paul carried the cat, and followed around the facility, to a back door. Bill took his place at a beat up old desk as he settled into a well worn, creaky chair.

"Not much in the budget for amenities. Set her down".

Paul set Fauve on the desk top.

"So I understand you can talk?"

She stood and offered a paw: "Yes, Fauve is my name".

"Not anymore it isn't".

"I... don't understand?"

"Wild cats don't have names..."

"I do!"


"Let me ask you a question: are you serious about this or am I wasting my time?"

"Paul and I discussed it, and it doesn't look like I have a choice here".

"Then you will do what I tell you, no arguments. The first rule is a simple one: around staff, you keep your mouth shut. If you open it, the only things that come out are cat noises. When anyone handles you, you will hiss, scratch, bite..."

"I don't want to hurt anyone..."

Bill rolled up his sleeves to show arms scared with old scratches: "An occupational hazard we all agreed to accept. Wild cats scratch. I don't want anyone suspecting you've been domesticated. Domesticated wild animals are put down, as they are deemed beyond rehabilitation. Am I making myself clear here?"

"Yes, I understand".

"I hope so".

"When can Paul visit?", Fauve asked.

"He won't be seeing you again".

"NO!", Paul called out.

"That's not right!"

"As far as anyone knows, Paul stopped by to drop off a cat in need, and I'd like to keep it that way".

After some back and forth, a compromise was arranged. Paul could come by once a week for a progress report after hours. That was the most Bill would concede.

"See you next week", Paul said as he was taking his leave. "Please behave and pay attention to everything Bill says. He's taking a big chance here".

"I know, and I promise... Goodbye"

"Till next week".

"Steve, Marvin: report to my office and bring a wire noose", Bill said into an intercom.

"Right away Boss", came the reply.

Fauve jumped off the desk, and cringed in a corner.

"New arrival", Bill told them, "just dropped off. Take it to the kennels".

The handlers had a pole with a wire noose that was slipped over the head to keep the animal under control.

"Nice kitty, we're not gonna hurt you", one said.

Fauve hissed, ears back, hackles up. She dodged the noose and ran across the room to cringe in another corner. she hissed, batted at the noose. Ran back across the room. This went on until one tackled her. She bit and scratched...

"DAMMIT!", Marvin called out as her claws drew blood.

Steve got the noose around her neck.

"C'mon", he said as Fauve's claws slid uselessly across the tiled floor. When the door to the kennel opened, a couple dozen eyes on heads that swiveled locked on the newcomer. Noses twitched, cats yowled. Some hissed.

"In you go", as she was lifted to be placed in a cage. As the noose was released, she turned to hiss. The door closed and locked.

Once the two handlers were gone, Fauve took stock of her situation. The cage was small, almost claustrophobic. There was one blanket, clean. A water bowl was filled. She examined her new environment. The cage bottom was mesh with a pull-out tray to collect the shit and piss. The blanket was thin, and she could feel the bars underneath. It was going to be a long night...

Even though the rest of the cats didn't have her intelligence, they were smart enough to know when it was feeding time. All snapped to attention when they heard the first signs of activity beyond the entrance. Another handler, a young girl, entered pushing a trolley. She was distributing bowls of food; she checked the water dishes. When she got to Fauve, she slid out a tray, placed a bowl on it and slid it back. Cat food. It was OK, but just OK.

The first thing the next morning was a trip to the vet's. she was felt up, prodded, had a thermometer stuck up her ass, and finally an injection of rabies vaccine.

"I'll handle this one personally", Bill said, he had that pole with the wire noose.

Once out of sight, he slipped it off as he led her to a fenced in area.

"I don't know how soft a life you had, so let's find out: take a lap around the track".

Fauve ran around the perimeter of the enclosure. It wasn't easy, and before she got half way around, every muscle felt as though on fire. She finished, panting heavily. Bill made a note.

"That is unacceptable, you should have finished faster, and shouldn't be so winded. We're gonna have to work on that".

Next, he showed her a documentary about wild cats and how they lived: "Pay close attention, your life depends on it", he said.

Next, jumping and leaping exercises.

She was thoroughly worn out at the end of the day, and even the uncomfortable cage couldn't hold sleep at bay.

III



Paul arrived after hours on Saturday, as promised. Bill led the way to the kennels to let Fauve out. She cuddled in his arms as he followed Bill to the office.

"So how was your week?", Paul asked.

"It was not as easy as I expected".

"You behave yourself?"

"She complains about the food and her cage".

"That's normal. Back in school we always complained about the food. Why not make that cage more comfortable?"

"The cage is a damned sight more comfortable than the wilderness. It's a lesson she has to learn".

"How about her progress?"

"Improving, that soft life is finally beginning to wear off. I had my doubts, but it looks like she will be ready for release some day... I'll just step out", as he left the office.

"I'm bored; I really wanna come home", she complained.

"You know that's not possible..."

"Doesn't mean I don't want to".

"I suppose you do, but we already discussed this. we all have to do things we'd rather not do".

"Now you're lecturing again: I'm not some kid... Any news from the Institute?"

"So far, no one suspects a thing. As for everything else, it's a mid-term election year, and you know what that means. All politics, all the time. You're better off not having to see the same campaign ads".

"There is that", she agreed.

"Love you", she called out as the reunion was ending.

"Love you too", Paul said.

0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF



"Do I hafta?", Fauve complained. "I've been running this track for all week".

"Yes, you do", Bill explained. "It's all part of rehabilitation".

"It's just so dull".

"Your owner gave you a soft life, filled your head full of useless crap..."

"How is education 'crap'?"

"I'm sure you can work algebra problems. I hated algebra in school; I sucked at it. I'm sure you could explain Relativity, even to a dummy like me. However, none of that is going to enable you to survive, catch food, and avoid predators. You will need strength and stamina as well. Now get going!"

Fauve ran around the track: "That's better", Bill congratulated. "Your time is improving and you don't seem as winded as the first time you ran the track".

"Cool down, and we'll try something else".

He led her to the middle of the enclosed field. The grass was taller than would be that of a lawn, but not totally over grown as would a wild meadow.

"Show me your hunting crouch".

"Huh?"

"As you would while stalking prey".

Fauve dropped to the ground, pressing herself into the grass to minimize visibility. Her legs stuck out behind her body as straight as her joints would allow, the bottoms of her feet pointing almost straight up. Her legs spread wide enough to expose her genital region, stretch her labs. Tail sticking up.

"Is this right?"

She didn't get an answer as Bill was repositioning himself to get a good view of her pussy.

"Did I do it right?"

"You tell me", Bill finally answered. "Pounce on a pretend mouse".

She pounced.

"That was pathetic, and your supper just got away. Resume that position".

Fauve crouched the same way.

"First, tuck your legs under your body", he said as he repositioned her legs. "This will elevate your rump, and that could be a problem, given the limited cover here, but it's a trade-off. Also, get your tail down, not sticking up like a sign post. Prey animals aren't stupid: that's why there are prey animals. Now pounce"

This time, she got off sooner, and went farther.

"Now, prepare your muscles like a coil spring ready to break loose".

She got off even faster, and flew farther.

Bill pulled something from a pocket that was would with a long string he unwound.

"Let's try it with the mouse", he said as he threw the "mouse".

He pulled it through the grass, and Fauve over shot the first time, under shot the second. Missed too late, then too soon. By the sixth try, she got it.

"Don't let it go!", Bill called out. "A real mouse would get away if you did that. Don't let go until it's dead. Let's try again..."

At the end of the day, he led her to an outbuilding: "From now on, this will be your new home".

The accommodations looked better, the blanket softer.

Bill dropped three freshly killed ground squirrels on the floor before her.

"The hell's this?", she asked.

"Dinner".

"That... that's... DISGUSTING!"

"No, that's nature. Where do you think that cat food your owner fed you came from before it got into the can? Better get used to it. You'll have to catch and kill your own".

Fauve sat there as the sun was setting. She finally got up, went over to sniff one of the squirrels. Long forgotten cat instincts were awakening. She flipped the body over and tore into its belly.

0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF


"Can't you give me at least one squirrel?", Fauve begged. "I haven't eaten in days".

"No, Fauve, I won't. In the wild there will be no one to feed you. You have to do this yourself. Don't be giving me any excuses".

He bent down and rapped his knuckles on her head: "Use that superior brain and out smart your prey. Now get to it".

Fauve gave this considerable thought. First, she recognized she wasn't paying enough attention to the wind. There was the problem of getting close enough. Here, she decided to forget about that....

Early the next morning, she sniffed out a cache of nuts, then went down to a creek to gather reeds. She used these to make a blind, rather than rely on the grass to hide her. Then she dug up the dirt over the cache in order to spread the scent of nuts. Then gather fragrant leaves to line the blind to conceal her scent, and make sure to be up wind. Then it was a matter of waiting...

The noon Sun was high overhead, the day warming. After several hours of waiting, a squirrel came sniffing along, and discovered another squirrel's cache. She watched and waited. When the squirrel looked to be preoccupied with its find, she pounced, catching the unfortunate rodent by surprise. A quick bite to the neck and it was all over. First kill. One squirrel wasn't enough to completely satisfy her. She was still hungry, but no longer starving. She wouldn't have to rely on dumpster diving for a meal.

0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF


"Well, Fauve, I taught you everything I can", wild Bill was saying, "the rest is up to you".

Fauve, Wild Bill, and Paul were pulling into a parking lot at a state park.

"I have something for you", Paul told her as he looped a small satchel around her neck. "Keep in touch. I'm gonna... miss you".

"Me too..."

"It doesn't have to be 'goodbye' forever..."

"Do you think that's a good idea?", Wild Bill objected.

"I don't see a problem, it's been anonymized, and she can access my account to keep the service paid".

The pouch contained a cellie and a solar charger.

They headed into the forest, deep into the woods, away from prying eyes.

Some last minute advice: "Never forget that the park is also a public hunting and trapping area, so don't get too complaicent, and watch out for trapping season and fur bearer hunting season otherwise you might wind up as some rich bitch's fashion accessory".

"I have no intention of becoming that", Fauve reassured Wild Bill.

Fauve climbed a steep hill, paused at the top to stand on her hind feet, and waved a paw. She returned to all fours and disappeared over the rise.

0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF


Seven Years Later


"I don't understand it", one official from the Wildlife Department was saying to a colleague. "The reported harvest of cats has been dropping even though we're still issuing as many trapping licenses as always".

"They're getting smarter. Have a look at this".

He showed a photograph of a trap set up. The trapper had set up a barricade of logs.

"Animals always take the path of least resistance, but look here"

In front of the trap there was an 'X' of pebbles and stones at the entrance, and tracks going around the logs.

"Who did that?"

"The more important question is why are those tracks going around? It almost looks like the cats are taking that as a warning and that's why they aren't going in. How can that be possible?"

"I have no idea..."

Next Prompt: Politics
 
Prompt: Intelligence



Gordon stared in sheer disbelief at the sight before him, his ears picking up the audible snoring as his heart thumped loudly in his chest. The dark-furred wolf had heard the myths regarding the beast that sleeps within the Great Moonshire Mountains but never believed such superstitions. Even so, after having climbed multiple cliff-faces and hiking up steep, uneven terrain, the explorer had chosen to set out for adventure with low expectations. The sudden storm to have caught him in the midst of his journey had forced him to seek shelter to which he happened upon the cave he now stood in.

Waiting near the front of the cavernous opening in the mountain as rain fell like waterfalls and thunder boomed with explosive force, the wolf’s keen ears had picked up on another sound. Not only had his sensitive hearing already started to capture his interest but he could smell something unusual mixed with the familiar scent of cooked meat. Mere curiosity had dragged him through the pitch-black cave with nothing to light his way but his cell phone. Stalactites hung high overhead like stone chandeliers while large stalagmites posed as decoration lining the rocky walls surrounding Gordon. However, what truly astounded the wolf was the open chamber lit by torches in the back of the cave as well as the colossal creature that snored uproariously in the center of the space.

Gordon could hardly believe his own eyes: before him slept the beast of the mountains. It looked exactly as the legends described it; covered in massive, thick scales from head to the tip of its tail with curled horns over the webbed fins on either side of its head. The body itself was mostly coated with those durable, red scales while the belly was covered with scutes for added protection. Legs were thick with obvious muscle beneath the skin and all four ended with a clawed paw; each claw was about as long as Gordon was tall. The wolf swallowed anxiously at the sight of a dragon sleeping mere meters from where he stood.

The hiker’s attention, however, was quickly turned elsewhere as something shone brilliantly in his peripherals. Sheer awe gripped the astonished wolf as his jaw hung slightly agape. Piled in the corner of the torchlit chamber was a magnificent mountain of gold, sitting otherwise unguarded by the lair’s sleeping owner. The mere sight of the opulent display of wealth sent shivers down Gordan’s spine, his tail raised high with fur bristling with anticipation.

Glancing toward the behemoth that snored loudly on the opposite side of the stone chamber from his new goal, the wolf began to meticulously and cautiously creep over toward the stockpile. Each step Gordan took would be immediately followed by another look over toward the monster of the mountains. Fortunately, his bare paws maintained near silence as he moved across the cold, rocky flooring of the cavern. Although it had felt like an eternity had passed, the wolf finally found himself standing before the impressive stash of gold ore and chunks. Practically drooling over the find, the wolf was already rubbing his hands together, wagging his tail back and forth, and planning what he might do with even a fraction of the treasure. All the while as he silently celebrated his success, Gordan was unaware of the quiet clack of claws upon the ground just behind him.

“Yip?” came an uncomfortably loud and high-pitched call from just feet behind the wolf. Having nearly jumped out of his darkly colored fur, the canine felt every muscle in his body seize with fear. His large, pointed ears fell back upon his head as they heard the sudden snort followed by the shifting of something large upon the rough cavern floor. Slowly turning his head over his shoulder, the explorer found that the massive lump of scales, claws, horns, and wings was moving. Worse yet, a large and emerald-green eye with slitted pupil stared straight at him.

Hesitantly turning his body to face the monstrosity that climbed to its thick tree-trunk legs, the wolf swallowed anxiously. A colossal head covered in scales and topped with massive horns lifted from the ground, a slight snarl rumbling in the back of the beast’s throat as its eyes fixated upon Gordan. Claws scraped the hard, stone floor as the dragon began to slowly and menacingly move over toward where the wolf remained frozen in mortified terror. Gordan had become so stunned and frightened to have been caught that he had not even noticed the short kobold looking up at him with its head tilted to one side in curiosity.

“And just what have we here? A snack delivering itself to me? Ah, how fortuitous; I haven’t had a decent meal all week,” taunted the dragon as it loomed over Gordan. The wolf could already see the copious volumes of saliva dripping off the beast’s fangs as it snarled at him. With his heart pounding in his ears, Gordan shrank back as his desperate mind raced to think of a means of pacifying or pleading the apparently hungry monster.

“W-wait! P-please! I-I w-was just—,” Gordan began to beg only to be cut off as an enormous paw landed on the stone ground at his side. The wolf’s tail tucked between his legs as the dragon’s head loomed over him and then pressed down upon his being while maintaining eye contact.

“Just what? From where I’m standing, you were looking to line your pockets with my stores of gold,” asserted the monster of the mountains, clearly frustrated by having been awoken from its slumber to find a thief in its home.

“N-no! I-I swear! I-I’m… I’m j-just—,” Gordan began to stutter. Frantic and overwhelmed, the wolf struggled to think of something convincing. His eyes quickly shifted around the room, noting the rock formations at the edges of the chamber. Those simple rocks had at least given Gordan one thought. Trying his best not to show his fear, the wolf continued, “A-a simple prospector!”

“Come again?” the dragon replied, his tone did not sound particularly convinced by the claim. Even so, whether it be curiosity or toying with Gordan, the behemoth did ease off of the panicked wolf. Although not immediately pinned down by the beast, Gordan could still hear his own heart assaulting his eardrums as he focused on breathing for a brief moment.

“Y-yes! I-I was trekking through the mountains looking for caves like this one to spelunk for my own gold! W-when I happened to find your lair, I just wanted to get a look at the ore you’ve hoarded,” explained the wolf as he gestured to the mountain of gold ore behind him. Although a bored look crossed the scaled features of his colossal host, the dragon drew back and sat upon his haunches with wings folded close to its back and tail curled around itself. Waving one of its forepaws toward Gordan, the monster yawned.

“Is that right? Well then, just what do you make of my gold, little wolf?” asked the cave’s owner after its sheepish yawning. Even if it just seemed to be allowing Gordan the charade, the wolf was determined to grasp at every straw sent his way in this situation.

“Ah, t-thank you, thank you! I’m very good at what I do, I-I assure you!” assured the wolf with as much enthusiasm and confidence as he could muster. Turning back to the piles of gold, Gordan could feel himself shaking. His legs felt weak and ready to give out beneath him. Even so, one hand reached out toward the first chunk he could reach. Inspecting the metal held within his furred digits, Gordan began to gawk, “T-this is incredible! The gold is… w-what?”

“What is it, Mr. Prospector?” asked the disinterested dragon behind him. Gordan turned back around to the monstrosity though he seemed much less frightened than before. Brows furrowed; the wolf remained fixated upon the chunk of metal he carried.

“This… this isn’t gold,” Gordan stated plainly. He looked up to his unusual host as he used his hand to weigh the block of ore in his hand, “This is much too light. This is just pyrite.”

“What?! Show me that, little wolf!” demanded the monster of the mountains, an incredulous urgency to his voice. Doing as he told, Gordan lifted the piece of pyrite up closer to the dragon. In response, the beast lowered its head to the point that its giant eye was now level with the chunk of shining metal in the wolf’s hand. The dragon examined the ore for a brief moment before opening his mouth once more, “How could this… Hmm… So it is. I suppose my minion there must have thought it gold. Kobolds are so easy to please when you offer them something beautiful and shiny.”

“S-so… c-can I go? I-I helped you s-so there’s no need to eat me, r-right?” Gordan asked hesitantly, shrinking back and away from his intimidating host. The dragon lifted its head once more and glared down at the wolf intruding upon his lair as if contemplating what to do with him. After a brief moment of deliberation, the beast’s scaled head shook back and forth gently.

“Very well. You may leave. Though I suggest you not return here. Ever,” the monstrous creature stated, emphasizing that Gordan never return with a snarl and thin streams of black smoke billowing out of his nostrils. Not needing to be shown the exit, the wolf scrambled past the dragon and toward the cavernous corridor leading outside. His paws slapped against the rocky floor as he sprinted for freedom before the dragon changed his mind. Once out of sight, the colossal reptile relaxed somewhat as his lone kobold companion emerged from behind one of the larger stalagmites.

“Now then, what did you manage to snatch off that fool?” asked the beast. His inquiry was met with the kobold offering up a small, leather pouch. The mere sight of the wolf’s belongings elicited a rumbling chuckle from the dragon before he began to praise his minion, “Ah, excellent work. An extra hunk of deer meat for you later.”

“Yip,” replied the smaller reptile with an excited wag of its short tail. Being that its master was far too large to adequately manipulate the pouch and retrieve its contents, the kobold then opened the pack and began to dump whatever was inside out upon the ground at its own clawed toes.

“So, Mr. Prospector, just what valuables did you—huh?” the dragon had started to taunted despite Gordan having already escaped the cave. Confusion, however, immediately gripped the beast’s mind as all that dropped from the pouch his minion had secured were a load of small rocks. Tilting his head to one side in bewildered astonishment, the monster of the mountains began to ponder aloud, “W-what? Pebbles? Just what was he doing with these? Had his claim to a profession of prospecting not been mere hoax to fool me?”

Seemingly confused as well, the kobold gave the pouch several good shakes and reached into the bag only for its claws to rip right through the weakened stitching. The smaller reptile looked from the small bits of rock by its toes up to its master, patiently awaiting any instructions. The dragon, however, was merely perplexed by the bizarre find and only let loose another, louder yawn.

“Well, this is disappointing… I’ll remember that fool’s scent for later,” the beast mused aloud. With a dismissive shake of its horned head, the lair’s owner turned and began to move back over toward his sleeping spot within the large chamber. As he walked, the behemoth called out, “You are dismissed. I am going to return to my slumber.”

With that, the kobold’s master turned and walked along the cold, stone floor of the cave back over to his regular sleeping space. Watching as the dragon curled back and slowly drifted off to sleep once more, the kobold turned away. Scampering through the torchlit cavern, the dragon’s servant ducked behind one of the massive stalagmites behind the mountain of gold and treasures. With one quick glance back to ensure the colossal, winged reptile had settled back into his slumber, the kobold pulled out a leather pouch. Opening the small sack, it retrieved a large sapphire gemstone from which its gaze could not be turned away. It was a beautiful, shiny indeed.

“Yip.”

Next Prompt: Reaction
 

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