Fresh Starts: A Diamond in the Dust

Chapter 4, The Red Bull

Bhuta grumbled as she got onto her large paws. It wasn't hard for her despite a head and a half taller than the average leopard. Her fur was ruffled in areas much to her displeasure. But most of all she had been beaten, by a mere mortal no less.

I was beaten, I was beaten. I was beaten by a mortal, a lowly mortal. No matter how Bhuta repeated it she couldn't believe it, or just didn't want to. The Wintery blade had knocked her down without weapons or any kind of powers. It went against everything she thought, she prided herself on. She tried to reason it as a fluke but couldn't ignore what happened.

"Can... can you help me?" a quivering mew came from nearby.

Bhuta looked over and saw the yellow leopard noble still laying on the ground. "Why should I?" She mewed dismissively.

"I'm a Noble and a Witch, so it bequeathes some'cat like thou to help me." The noble, a leapardess, winced. "Also my joints hurt from those mad ruffians attacking me."

Bhuta rolled her eyes and dismissively swished her tail. "If your a witch you can help yourself." She then walked along the path purposefully crushing the white rosé beneath her paws and stepping on the annoying leopardess's leg. Yowls of pain could be heard as the spirit walked away.

Bhuta had plenty of time to think over what happened as she walked along the dusty road. Trees surrounding her like a wooden ocean. Each heavy paw step was filled with frustration and anger. She wouldn't forget what the Wintery Blade did, she couldn't. Her pride had been spit upon, an unforgivable offense to the mighty spirit.

Then a rumbling could be heard. Bhuta realized she hadn't eaten since the previous day. The large leopard sniffed the air and smelt the scent of prey. She slowly stalked what was a wild red bull which looked as muscular as she was. It would be enough.

Bhuta couldn't really hide with her large frame, but she was as silent as a ghost. She carefully crouched near the grass appearing like a cat shaped stone. The leopard slowly moved behind the bull, slowly and carefully not too gain its attention. Once she was in position she got ready to pounce on the unsuspecting bovine.

Just as she was going to pounce something else decided to ruin her day. A shinning silver dagger came from the right and impaled itself deep into its hide. Two more flew into its upper chest and its right hind leg, each striking a weak point as blood flowed from the wounds. A lynx whose fur was practically violet stood far off with another shining dagger in their mouth.

The crimson beast was weakened and looked around wildly for its attacker. Once it payed eyes on the large grey mass of Bhuta it charged horns bared. Bhuta, bravely or foolishly, got up and braced her muscular hind legs to pounce. Once it got near, about to plunge its boney spears into the leopard's flesh, she leaped into the bull's chest avoiding the glinting deliverers of death. It staggered back from her mass impacting into chested like a large club. It's right hind leg crumpled under the force and weight bringing down the behemoth.

As Bhuta was about to inflict the killing blow with her claws slashing the mighty beast's neck, but that didn't happen. Another dagger flew and impaled the bull's lungs. Blood poured from the bovine's wounds as it coughed up blood. The light of life soon left its eyes.

"That was my kill. And it would have been easier if you didn't interrupt." Bhuta growled frustrated as the lynx approached her and the dead bull.

The lynx had a violet pelt, a rare thing for mortals. They looked male with a fedora esc hat with ear holes and a holster at their side filled with daggers. "Howdy, sorry fo' dat, strange'. Dis bull was causing a mighty bunch a trouble fo' us locals." He spoke with an accent typical of oak leap.

"Then you shouldn't have bothered. I was going to kill it anyway." She growled in response already frustrated with the lynx.

"Aah had a hankerin fo' quality beef. Now befo'e ya get madde' than a wet hen, aah might could bring ya ta town. Aah know several shortcuts, and aah know a fine cook. Da names Plum by da way, what you's?" Plum asked and tried to calm down the obviously upset cat.

Bhuta seemed to be appeased by this but was apprehensive about her name. I don't want mortals finding out I'm a spirit. "That's..., acceptable. What's my name to you?" Her body language still showed slight aggression when she asked.

"It's just polite ma'am." Plum responded like it was obvious.

Bhuta thought for a bit before thinking of something her parents called her when she was young. "Crys, my name's Crys."

Plum was satisfied with this and pulled his daggers out of the bloody bovine. Bhuta didn't actually have much trouble getting the bull onto her back and carrying it like it was nothing. Plum was quite surprised by this. "Well I'll be." Being the only thing he uttered for a while.

After Plum's dumbfounded silence had ended, he struck up a conversation. This had mixed success with Bhuta giving evasive answers or just getting frustrated with the nosy oak lynx.

Overtime she warmed up a bit to Plum, finding him the same level of annoying as a certain kitsune. Their interactions were okay to her, but she did still think little of him.

"So, know anyone in Treeburrow? Not many travele's visit he'e since we a'e pretty small. We do have a good theate' though, even got a group preformin." Plum asked with a flick of his tail.

"It's just on the path." Bhuta mewed curtly while not wanting to admit she had no idea where to go.

"Well, hope ya don't offend nobody. Not everybody tis as welcoming as me." He responded to the short answer.

Bhuta felt pretty sure that nothing could surprise her after the Wintery blade and Plum's interruption, but that was before she saw her destination. Lying before her was the rustic somewhat bustling town of Treeburrow Falls.