Chapter 5: 4 | The Cat Chase

King shivered. He slowly turned his head, and his face paled as the beast, which had landed behind him, slowly stood on its animalistic feet. A low growl ground out of its chest. Bit by bit, it towered over King, its eyes locking with the lad.

King gulped a hard one. Then he took another hard swallow. Suddenly, the behemoth inched towards him, a crisp sneer lodging on its terrifying face. King nearly choked. With the same pace, he crawled backward in response. His hands pricked, and the pain in his left leg hit him hard with every move. 

The werewolf's snout twitched. Its gaze raked down King's body, and when it saw the lad's bloodied slacks, it roared. 

King combed through desperate thoughts. One of them was discerning whether the werewolf might happen to be a herbivore. "G-good boy?" he said.

The idiot.

The werewolf growled, obviously unimpressed or insulted. King then gasped when it suddenly reached its arm out for him. 

But then, the werewolf sharply halted. The sneer on its face disappeared, and its eyes widened. It backed off a bit, looking hesitant and appalled. If terror could be seen in an animal's face, it was clearly showing on this werewolf.

King felt bizarre. The bizarreness soon revealed itself when he felt something tickle the crook of his neck and jaw, like tiny pieces of tentacles brushing up against his face. Then, like the werewolf in front of him, his face grimly contorted into rare terror. 

King let out a sharp scream, and unintentionally, he hurled the thing crawling on his face — a centipede — in front of him. Ironically, the aimless aim became a bullseye when the creep landed on the werewolf's face. The gray werewolf went into hysterics.

When he noticed the opening, King finally bolted up and ran towards Pandora, gritting his teeth as he ignored the burning sensation on his leg. The werewolf stopped flailing, quick to notice. It roared, barreling immediately after King while it was regaining its composure.

Then, a sudden shift in the air caused the werewolf to halt again. King felt a wave of alleviation, and he dropped to the ground, breathless. It was a scent — a territory mark. King and the others had finally reached their pride.

The grey werewolf roared, its menacing sneer aggravated. It paced back and forth while looking at the werecats as if deciding whether to pursue them or not. Trespassing on another clan's territory was taboo unless, of course, they were intentionally initiating a conflict. 

The beast released another roar, one strapped with deep frustration. Then, it stepped back, ears erect, and lips pulled back. 

The other werewolves arrived at the scene not too soon; they regrouped with the gray one, predatory eyes pinned at the werecats. Pandora reflected their animosity. Douglas, who was mumbling rubbish and quite unaware of what was happening around him, pushed himself up. Lucky him, he landed inside the invisible boundary. How convenient to be blessed by the author.

King ached all over, on the other hand. All he wanted now was to fall into a deep slumber. But although aching and tired and still trembling, he pushed himself up.

The werewolves stared; the werecats stared back. The humanoids exchanged menacing snarls. However, the malice became... awkward for King when he noticed that the gray werewolf was just gazing at him. He glared at it.

The gray-pelted werewolf snorted, looking unimpressed and somewhat pacified by King's tenacity. This continued for a couple more seconds, their wordless stare off, just staring at one another. Just then, the werewolf huffed. It then slowly stepped back, indicating the end of the predicament.

The werewolf eyed King as it stepped away, shooting soft daggers at him. It then finally turned away for real and continued to walk away. The other werewolves trailed behind, quietly gnarring. Some exhibited their sharp teeth by snapping them in the air as if to taunt the werecats. 

Douglas massaged the back of his head as he moved towards Pandora and King, his eyes pinned at the retreating werewolves. Pandora kept her defenses, waiting until the werewolves vanished from their sights. She kept her sight on the gray werewolf, who she noticed was so intent on King for some reason.

When a safe distance was perceived, Pandora withdrew as well. 

Let's go, Pandora linked, before any more dilemma greets us unannounced.

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Douglas moved towards King and helped him up. King soundlessly winced, staggering to get back on his feet. He chewed his lower lip. 

King was forcing himself to feel relieved, mentally repeating to himself to feel contented that the werewolves had already left them alone. 

But no — he was pissed. So the bastards were turning back after pulling that stunt? What was that all for then?!

Douglas heaved and settled King on his nape. Then, still sizzling, the latter spat, "Freaking mutts."

The werewolves paused in their tracks. Pandora and Douglas stiffened. And in a few seconds, King felt the words that sizzled in his mouth wash over him like cold water. 

The wolf-men's heads turned. Their lips were curled, and blade-like incisors revealed themselves again. King paled when he realized the meaning behind that determined look that inhabited the gray werewolf's face. "... Uh-oh," he uttered.

Then the werewolves thundered back in their direction.

Go! Pandora shouted before dropping back on all four and barreling away.

King! Douglas shouted while he ran.

King flashed a forced smile. "Sorry."

Suddenly, the lad stiffened at what he heard next. The sound cut through the werewolves' roars like a knife through butter, and he paled.

Ready for a swim?! Pandora yelled.

"No," King exhaled.

The two werecats sped. King clenched his jaw, his fingers digging into Douglas's fur so hard that the latter winced. Even so, Douglas didn't stop. If ever, his speed even crackled higher.

Then they jumped.

In an instant, panic engulfed King. Water, he thought. He didn't know how to swim. His mind blanked up, and before he knew it, raging waves barreled over him, separating him from Douglas and Pandora. It crashed over every inch of his body, pushing him underneath the waters.

Struggling and body mounting with pulsating terror, King flailed to keep his head above the grave that wrapped him. His leg stung, and his senses blurred. Parts of his body started cramping and hurting. He desperately pushed with his arm and legs, but he couldn't find any leverage. He didn't know what he was doing. Heck he couldn't even comprehend where he was already. He tried to gasp for air, but there was nothing, just water. 

Then the world turned black.

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