Z for Xydias oneshots

Casus

To pick up scents that the average human cannot is a gift given by the Gods. What Gods? How should I know. . . That's just always just Mama says.
I can feel the grass tickling my wet nose, I can hear airplanes flying overhead, and the unease of the ground beneath my paws due to some creature's burrow deep in the earth. If I really tried hard enough, I think that maybe I could sniff out exactly what made the burrow. And if lucky, Even locate it.
The night is young, and the lady waning among the stars is kind tonight. She shines her light just enough so that all of her children are to see their ways home, but I am not looking for home. Only exploring.
Another moon passes where the everburning urges that envelope my soul and bones has yet to blaze bright into a wildfire of emotion and from what my peers have explained—horrors beyond anyone unlike us' comprehension. Elijah always nags me about how I should've gone through my first transformation by now, and it bothers me more than I let on. But Zion makes sure to never let him get away with it. Mama says Im a late bloomer, and thats okay. So with that, I won't let Elijah's words burrow their way into my skin.
A twig snaps in the distance, and I lift my head. My ears twitch, attempting to hound in on whatever made the noise. "Be careful." Zion and Mama remind me whenever I leave. "Don't be an idiot." Is usually what Elijah whispers before I cross through the door's threshold. "Come back soon." Asa always urges. And I follow each one of their pieces of advice. Always making sure to stay vigilant, and think before I act. While being hasty enough to return before sunrise.
The footsteps are heavy. Not a fox, or a deer, or a rabbit at all. But a person, wearing heavy boots. The smell of gunpowder intertwines with their natural scent. That alone is my cue to make my way to safety. Home. Or atleast cover—before it's too late. "Don't be an idiot." Remember.
I stalk quickly behind foliage, and despite the fact that Im too big to fit behind a tree, I lay low within bushes and taller grass. Pressing my head to the ground, and slowing my breath. Hoping and praying that whoever it is with their bad aura doesn't find themself curious enough to investigate.
The low murmur of voices suddenly gets my blood pumping. Theres more than one person—and the smell of silver engulfs both of them. Silver crucifixes, silver bracelets, silver earrings, silver bullets. It burns my nostrils, my eyes, my paws. It burns my body. My heartbeat roars in my ears, and instinct takes over. Thats not foolish, is it? To listen to what my body is telling me to do? To heed her waning warnings. The kind one who gives everyone like me their magic. The kind one who curses bad people. She warns all of her children of danger, and right now she shrieks so loudly my bones rattle and my body is no longer my own.
Running, Running, Running..
I am faster than their gunshots and wolfsbane darts. Their faulty spells used only for evil and intentions rotten like week old fruit. They don't catch me, because they cant. And for a moment, I feel victorious.
My strong bones guide me to another patch of hidden land. More bushes and trees. Sweet honeysuckle, planted by someone kind. It tastes of pure sugar. And among this explosion of flavor a familiar scent makes itself startlingly known.
A creature all but frightening stalks its way to me, but I remain calm. The moonlight bounces off of cream and copper fur, illuminating cold jade crystals for eyes. "What are you doing here?" Elijah asks, his voice a whisper, and teeth bared. He's angry with me already, and I've hardly even done anything other than breathe. "What do I normally do when I leave the house?" I shoot back, walking toward him and giving an accidental headbutt to his mane. He paws me away, and I whine. "Issac, we need to go right now. I heard the gunshots—"
"I know. Hunters. I outran them. They're long gone." My ears twitch in an attempt to verify what I stated.
"No—this is their TERRITORY, you moron. I told you not to go too far away from home for a reason!" Elijah snarled, towering over me with his chilled eyes. His tone, and the gravity of the situation hits me like a bullet train. "Why! You never listen to me. Mama is worried sick, its been hours! We need to leave. These hunters aren't like the rest. They're stronger. Smarter." For some reason, I feel rage in every edge of my body. It bubbled over like a pot left on the stove too long.
"Why didn't you tell me that?" I snap. "How was I supposed to know anything about whats out here?? Maybe you're the idiot for not telling me!"
"You watch your mouth." Elijah growls, to which my ears pin back. "You're lucky I even came out here to look for you. I could've left you, but I didn't. Im not here to argue with you, Issac. We don't have time for you and your rash decisi—" his words were interrupted by another gunshot.
Without an exchange of words, he takes off in a quick gallop, and Id've been a fool not to follow behind him.
Through forest and endless foliage, we run as quickly as four legs will take us. But it isn't quick enough for me. I swear I hear them closing in, their rifles and pistols fire silver shots at the both of us. But luckily, their aim is as rotten as their hearts.
For a moment Im lost in my thoughts. Humans really are cruel, insatiable creatures. Im only a kid, Elijah isn't much older. But they don't know that. They think that we're mutant beasts brought to life from even smaller kids' storybooks. We aren't capable of thoughts or feelings or hopes or dreams. We're the monsters under the bed that eat those who misbehave. We're the villains, the ones who don't get a happy ending. Because we're monsters, who probably don't deserve one anyway.
A stray vine catches one of my paws, and I tumble down into a clearing. I feel the earth beneath me, unforgiving and cold. And suddenly, the sound of heavy metal clanging and bones crunching are deafening against the sound of my pulse drumming in my ears. An animalistic wail of pain rips out of my maw, and it's undoubtedly the worst pain Ive ever felt. It paralyzes me, and even the thought of moving hurts. Everything hurts—to breathe, to blink, to live. The world fades in and out, and my vision is blurred from what may now be a concussion. I cant hear anything anymore, only the high pitched humming of noise as I lay there with no intent of fighting anymore. Ive given up, and Im alright with that.
Despite my instinct's protests, I move my head to see what's happened.
A silver bear trap, clamped down on my now unnatural looking leg. It burns, and I know that theres wolfsbane infused into the metal. It's seeping into me, and taking what little life id lived. What little life I had to give.
Humans really are cruel. Aren't they?
The two responsible for my untimely demise close in on me, examining me. Touching my fur, pulling my tail, forcing my eyes open wide to point flashlights in.
I nip at one of them, but he hits me in my nose with the butt of his pistol. I jerk—which makes the pain in my body worse. It takes what little energy I had left to whimper and let him have his way with my dying body.
The older man unsheathes an axe, and stands over me. He's going to cut me open? For what? My organs aren't any different than his. My heart is the same, my brain is the same. My abilities given to me are gifts from the Gods. But they don't know that. They're going to take my gifts and pass them on as their own. How evil.
I don't have any fight left in me. I can't defend myself, or beg for mercy. Even if I did, it'd be futile.
I forgot about Elijah. He'll find me, and then he'll tell mama and papa how foolish I was. He'll tell Zion and Asa that It was my fault.
Or maybe he wont bother. Maybe he'll just tell them I died, and they'll move on.
I hope they'll move on. Fools don't deserve mourning, do they?
The old man drops his axe. And is tackled into tall grass somewhere nearby. Insatiable growling is all I hear, along with bones crunching and clothes ripping. The familiar scent of blood, and family. He found me sooner than I expected.
The younger one—presumably the late old man's son—screams something unintelligible.
My vision clears temporarily, and Im granted the pleasure of watching Elijah rip apart some old guy in terrible fishing boots.
Once he finishes his quick meal, he turns to the guy's son. Who's too busy shaking to think of a good plan. Elijah licks his bloody teeth, snarling down at the little prick. He creeps slowly toward him with iced over jade eyes, crushing the elder's gun under one of his hefty paws. The silver bullet that was loaded into it previously sears away at the underside of his paw, but he doesn't appear bothered at all.
Split second decisions are made, as Elijah lunges at the boy. But I lose consciousness only a second after I see him pick up his father's silver axe in retaliation.