Abbernathy and the Cat Kingdom

(19) - The Wanesguard -

A few paces away, two creatures stood head to toe in black armor, horned helms obstructing their faces. Abby saw the glow of their eyes, the same crimson hue of the moon overhead. She shivered.

Swords strapped around their waists tapped against the metal of their bracers as each creature took a step forward. As they closed the distance between them, Abby noticed one of the creatures had a deep fleshy cut down the right side of his face. No fur grew where that scar was, just puffy red tissue, mangled together to close the wound.

"These woods are off-limits," the scarred creature snarled. His teeth were filed into sharp points as if purposely trying to make himself scarier.

"We got lost," Margo said.

His lips parted into a smile, showing more of his yellowed, pointy teeth. "Sure you did, ratta," he hissed. "With the lack of brains in your head, I can believe that."

His companion, whose face was covered in blotchy black and brown fur let loose a chuckle. His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword, a threat, just like his friend's filed fangs. Abby wanted to move, she wanted to squish herself into Margo, become invisible, but she was frozen in her spot. These creatures had none of the beauty of Sebbi or Lucy, none of the shine, the warmth.

The scarred Wanesguard set his sights on Sebbi and Lucy. "I don't, however," he said stalking toward them like a true born predator who'd cornered his prey, "Believe that they would also get lost."

His friend stopped laughing and looked toward Margo, a purplish tongue running languidly across his lips. "Especially with a couple of ratta," he added. And then, his gaze, his horrifying gaze was on Abby, running the length of her, inspecting every one of her nooks and crannies. She felt bare in front of him. He licked his lips at her too as though the hungry predator had finally happened upon some worthy prey.

"So what are you two doing out here with them?" the scarred soldier asked. He lowered his head, trying to see under Sebbi and Lucy's hoods. Both cat-men looked to the side, though Sebbi caught a glimpse of the soldier who facing him.

His smile grew. "Defiant one aren't you?" the scarred cat-man said. His tail thumped against the ground, the tiny plates of metal that cascaded down it like scales clinked as he did so. "And gold eyes, too. Haven't seen that trait since," he paused and took a gloved hand to scratch under his chin. "Hey, Eligan, how long would you say its been since we had kits born with gold eyes?"

The cat-creature named Eligan didn't turn away from Margo and Abby as he answered his companion. "At least three cycles," he said. "Maybe more. Gold eyes though give me the creeps. I'd much prefer blue ones like these."

He leaned in toward Abby, his breath hot and stinking. Margo's hand clenched tighter around her arm, steadying her already shaking body. A stench like rot and sulfur oozed off Eligan and Abby's stomach lurched in disgust.

"We are here as students," Margo said, loudly. The sound of her voice snapped Eligan out of his trance and he straightened himself up, though his eyes remained on Abby.

Margo cleared her throat and slowly rummaged through her pant's pocket. She produced two scrolls of paper, each sealed with blue wax.

The scarred soldier laughed. "The seal of the Cloude," he said. "How lovely."

Margo outstretched her hand toward Eligan. "Our parchments. Both for me and my cousin here. We're doing our studies here, for fourth cycle."

Eligan snorted as he extended a nail through the slit of his glove and slashed at the seal. "Ratta, always trying to learn. That's why your kind always ends up dead."