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32. Claws

That wizard woman was smelling with her head in the air—an act that looked ridiculous on a human and only slightly less ridiculous on a quadruped. Seriously, she would’ve looked more dignified if she’d gotten on all fours and sniffed down there.

But I knew this was a sign that the wizard mother and child were more than they let on. Wild? Monstrous? Or even—innocuous?

Any of those could have been true. Yet my adrenaline pricked.

With any luck, these two wouldn’t care about small fry like me. I wasn’t even their predator, after all…just some curious passerby. But better safe than sorry.

They already knew I was here. Judging by the wind blowing across my back and directly toward them, they knew my location, too. Stealth hadn’t turned off, they couldn’t see me…but now that ceased to matter.

I took off running the way I came, not caring how much noise I made. Yes, I’d make a mental note of the approximate location of this weird giant mansion they were going to! I’d figure it all out—later! But for now—

Her shout followed me: “That’s it!”

Not “that’s it” as in “I’ve had it up to here with you,” but “that’s it” as in—“I’ve found it”?

That was followed by a blast of magic so strong that I could feel its aftershock exploding to life around her and the child.

I didn’t look back. I activated a Leap and bounded over a fallen log, all while thinking, That’s what? What’s what? Uh???

Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is currently unavailable.

She wants to make it clear that she doesn’t feel bad for you right now.

However, she’s proud of you for doing your own work so much more often now.

Please try again later.

But try hard not to try again later.

Ack! Was this text box bigger and more sight-obscuring than normal, or was I just imagining things?!

There was one upside to the box: it got me to focus on my other senses, if only for a moment. On the sounds behind me—on footsteps! They were coming after me!

And they were fast, not some slow strides from the wizardly tanks I’d taken them for. In fact, even though I was still booking it, I knew they were close behind and even gaining.

I was about to think Map as hard as I could when the text box blinked out and the woods broke open to reveal that field full of watering holes. All the same as before, only made a touch ethereal by the early morning sky.

I took another Leap down a long slope. But I never landed.

“Got it,” shouted the kid, his voice a bit winded but just as bored as before.

I was floating, my limbs dangling. Worse, I was just close enough to the earth that when I waved my claws in desperation, the slight breeze they made moved the grass.

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Actually, I wasn’t just floating: I was being held in place by green magic rings around my torso. Three of them. I could feel them pressing ever so slightly into my body. It was a gentle prison, I’d give them that. But it was pretty sad to be captured this way by a child who didn’t even care.

Could I imagine a scenario in which this was all just a misunderstanding and the wizards loved me like a sister? No, not particularly. I looked over my shoulder with a snarl. It must not have come out too intimidating, because the kid smirked.

The mom emerged from the trees, dusted herself off, and managed a prim smile at her kid. “Good job,” she said. “Proud of you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Would you like to name them?”

“…Really?” For the first time today, his eyes sparkled with something like wonder.

I was aghast. Did these two just capture me, out of nowhere, like I was some sort of catchable monster? A small, slight, Level 11, still-can’t-defeat-two-squirrels gray cat?

The two wizards came closer. Were they starting to examine me?

“What are some good names, Mom?”

“Well, Grandma’s was named Lion. You could name them Lynx, or Tiger.”

His face lit up. “What about Claws?”

I’d had enough of this. First of all, those names were all bad. Hopelessly bad. Barely better than naming a persian cat Persian. And naming a cat Claws was like naming a human Feet, or Digits.

Second, and by far more importantly, the spell holding me in place didn’t seem to be getting any weaker…but not any stronger, either. All this time I’d been fidgeting, shifting my body parts around as much as I could to see if I could squeeze myself out of this trap the way contortionists get out of cuffs, but that didn’t seem possible. The rings calmly adapted themselves to my size, shape, and efforts—and the happy wizard family didn’t seem troubled at all.

Inside, though, I boiled.

No new owners. No new names.

The mom patted her son on the shoulder. “That’s a fine name, Sephene! Now you get to put on the collar.”

The boy, Sephene, didn’t do anything, he just looked at her.

“The collar, did you bring it?”

It occurred to me that at the necklines of the wizard cloaks were sleek black ties that almost looked like collars themselves, made of leather. Was I going to get my own?

No!

But my mental tone of defiance died down to a wimpy plea.

Please don’t have it. Please let me go.

“Ah, I have one you can use,” the mother said. She sucked in her disappointment, and so did I. Reaching into her deep cloak pocket, she fished around and pulled out a cat-sized collar with a shining silver clasp.

She gave it to Sephene, but her son didn’t look any more eager than before.

I sensed this was my chance.

He must’ve been hesitating because even though he was fast, and a wizard, he was still just a wimpy human in the end. I had claws, as he knew all too well. And like all truly wild animals, I had the ability to fight, without hesitation, for my life.

But no.

To my horror, new rings formed around all four of my ankles.

One even clamped my tail. Briefly Sephene tried casting a ring around my mouth—a glowing muzzle—but it was so big that it wouldn’t let him get the collar on. The muzzle puffed away.

Opportunity was coming back. He’d had to let me keep one weapon. No, two: my teeth and my headbutting skull.

Sephene unclasped the collar, breathed, and reached it around me.

I bowed my head and pretended to be docile until his hands were fully above me—until his face was right in front of my forehead.

That was when I used the third weapon he’d allowed me: my handy Inventory.

Some would argue that hurling a marble statuette in a child’s face is overkill, but he was trying to make me his pet—and who knew what else—so I figured anything goes.

I didn’t catch how much damage it did, or what kind. I saw it start to shatter, a cloud of dust and pellets. I heard the kid scream. I heard the trumpets of victory and felt, for once, Sierra’s approving smile.

I felt every ring around my body slice me clean through.

HP 0% (0/258)

Shouldn’t have hurt him so soon. Too hasty for my own good.

I died.