Moonlit Silhouettes

Safe

It was so hot...why was it so hot? True, it was almost summertime, but the heat shouldn't be nearly this high. He could feel his breath misting around his face with each exhale, adding to the suffocating humidity in the air. It was too hot for him to even sweat.

For a few moments, his muddled mind tried to figure out why he couldn't see anything. Was he blind? His eyes were open...at least he thought they were, and yet all he saw was blackness.

The harsh squeal of metal hinges caused him to wince, and he shielded his eyes as light flooded across his vision, temporarily blinding him. After a blink or two, his eyes adjusted, and he took stock of his surroundings.

He was in an old room, probably insulated to retain heat, and was leaning against some wooden crates that were stacked against the far wall. He glanced down at his hands, his wrists were in shackles, the chains binding him to the wall.

As his gaze slowly slid back to the door, his tired eyes settled on his captor.

"Ah...I remember now." He said weakly, a tinge of bitterness and resentment in his voice as he chuckled slightly. "Hello, father."

The tall man stepped further into the room, crossing thick arms over his broad chest, he stared down at his chained son with blue eyes far colder than any ice. "You are no son of mine, there is no place for traitors in my pride, let alone the ruling family."

He shifted, the chain links clinking together slightly. "I see, so you've disowned me then? I expected as much, although I can't help but wonder why I'm still alive. Could it be you're waiting to execute me?" A small smile played across his lips. "Or perhaps...someone is fighting for my life, someone bold enough to defy you, who's not ashamed to still call me their son."

The Patriarch snarled and seized the front of his shirt, hauling him into the air and shaking him as he roared. "You insolent little brat! Are you implying that anyone other than myself has control over this pride?"

He narrowed his eyes, staring unflinchingly into his father's gaze, thankful that he hadn't inherited the icy blue eyes he was now facing, but instead had been gifted with the vivid green of jungle tiger Ailuanthropes. "Well if the implication strikes such a sore nerve, then it must hold some truth to it. Or am I wrong, father?"

With a disgusted growl, his father tossed him to the floor, his chains clattering as he crashed into the wooden crates.

"You've always been too smart mouthed for your own good, Petrich."

Petrich raised his eyebrows as he propped himself up on one elbow. "Oh, I'm being referred to by name now? Then perhaps I should call you, Risha." He gasped in pain as his father kicked him savagely in the stomach, knocking all the air out of his lungs. He struggled to breathe, clutching his chest as dry gasps caught in his throat.

His father stared down at him disdainfully. "It's Patriarch to scum like you." He shook his head. "To think you were to be this Pride's next ruler, it makes me sick." He turned to go, but paused in the doorway. "Looks as if that title has now passed on to your little sister, Her mind is still young enough to be shaped into whatever I please." He smirked. "She'll make a fine Matriarch."

Petrich roared and lunged forward, jerking against his chains as he struggled to reach his father, wrists straining against the shackles, claws slashing the air uselessly. His green eyes burned fiercely, now fully feline.

His father laughed at his attempts and stepped out the door. "Struggle all you want, but you'll never break free. Even if you weren't weakened by the heat, those chains are much too strong for you."

Petrich bared his fangs, letting out an enraged snarl as he pulled harder against the shackles, feeling the metal biting into his flesh, drawing blood, but still he pulled. "Leave Kira out of this!"