ORIGIN

DUSTIN LINK

I'll open my HEART and I'll find the WAY

Before he could even reach his target, but he felt a hoof embed itself in his side and he yelped as he skidded across the floor. The sharp point had scraped a decent wound into his side and he howled in fright, confusion and pain. Pain wasn't something he had felt before and he surprisingly still found himself near Beast as the cub re-positioned himself to the other side of the room. Gasping, he coudn't understand why his side hurt so much and why the man had decided to do such a thing. Beginning to cry, he shook his head determinedly and glared at the white cub who had called him filth, "Why... why is he doing such a thing!" It was a gasp of disbelief and he lent around to try and staunch the flow as he brushed his barbed tongue over his side.

Shaking, he had been afraid of the three-headed dog beast but at least he hadn't caused him this sensation. It made him absolutely sick and he found himself whimpering, the decent graze on his side having stopped and was beginning to scab over with weird fluid to get it to heal faster. You know what that stuff is.

Okay, stick for brains was really starting to…no, actually he’d been annoying from the moment he appeared. I had this great plan, and he just comes on in and destroyed everything. He happened to be just slightly too big for me to take down and eat…and stupidly in charge of a bunch of crazies. The white fluff seemed truly scared to death and stupid. Which, if he was hanging out with this skinny legged jerk, I could hardly blame him for the stupid part. And this other thing…with the black spots. Just, what was he doing? Maybe…maybe wait. Were the kittens trying to escape? I was like, the perfect timing guy and the distraction so the kitten slaves could leave? Oh, yeah. They were kinda brilliant then. I liked this plan. This was a good plan. So, I should totally do the distracting thing more?

But then the white guy…he called me cub-filth. Like I was some dirty creature. I was totally cool with my dinner calling me names. But a little white fluff? No no no.
And now mister spots goes and starts crying? Why was…oh he was injured. So those thin chew toys were sharp at the end. Important thing to remember. Had I been older and thought this through, I probably would’ve realized that none of this made any sense and would’ve just walked away. Instead, however, I was still heated about being called dirty. So, with no other reason I pounced at the white kitten, claws out and a tiny (unfortunately not very terrifying) snarl in my throat.