The cat makes a loud chuffing noise that sounds distinctly like the noise a disgruntled animal of any breed makes. I walk over in front of the wiretail and crouch about a foot from the edge of the magical netting. I settle my pale eyes on the golden orange globes of the enormous cat beast.

"He said he already knows what 'lies we promise.' And he said some other things that I'm not gonna repeat."

"Tell him we're not like the people that branded him on the back."

There's a short silence, and some low growling emerges before tapering back into silence again.

"Yeah, Ori, he doesn't care, dude. Pretty sure he's threatened to eat or destroy us about twenty times now."

"Okay, let's change it up then. Tell him if he doesn't submit to me, I'll make him submit against his will."

"Uhhhh."

"Just do it, man. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

"Ooo-kay."

Not ten seconds later, a ridiculously loud snarl whips out of the throat of the wiretail, and every tooth in the cat's mouth shows as it follows it up with what can only be considered a roar. Kline yells at us from where he is with his saddled wiretail.

"What on earth are you doing?! How am I supposed to calm this damn cat if you're making yours positively homicidal?!"

"It's fine, Kline. Relax. I got this." I say in return before returning to a very dubious-looking Khalil and the now murderously enraged wiretail.

"Okay, buddy, you asked for it."

I slowly sit down right in front of the netting that is keeping the wiretail from moving, which has the side effect of making the wiretail unable to rend me into ten thousand pieces. I roll my neck around slowly, letting my muscles relax before I rest my hands on my knees. I stare with some degree of effort directly into the furiously wide and wired eyes of the great cat in front of me. While his eyes threaten murder, my pale eyes bore into his, seeking dominance and control.

Something comes over me from deep in my soul. I bypass needing my blood to drip from my nose to focus my abilities. Like a mantra, a dark yet smooth voice thrums in my mind from where I have no clue: these are my Wilds, this world is mine, this place is mine, his life is mine. A floating feeling comes over my limbs before I find myself covering the beast in front of me in my aura. I can feel myself gaining control over his mind and body like I were a person out of their own body. When I'd taken control over small critters, birds, or reafans in the past, it was always in the first person. I saw through their eyes and moved them where we would go like I was running with their legs or flying with their wings. But doing this with the wiretail is different. This is almost like I feel I can pluck and pull his strings to puppet him with my mind; his input is not required if I don't wish.

I slowly start to stand, my concentration still on the wiretail. My movement draws Khalil's gaze more readily. I gesture a hand at Khalil before carefully speaking.

"Cut the net, Khalil."

"Fuck outta here, Ori. Are you out of your mind?"

"Not joking. Cut the net. I got this."

"No, dude, no. As soon as I break that net open, he's going to go crazy."

"Khalil."

As the moments pass, I feel my mind's control over the wiretail strengthening. I can feel his torrent of thoughts, his urges, and the desires he wants to take part in. And, now I know I can make those thoughts irrelevant.

"No, Ori, I'm not going to do it."

Khalil steps back from the wiretail as if to make a point to me. What he doesn't expect is for me to sedately reach down to my belt and pull off my whittling knife. With my eyes locked to the wiretail, I crouch again to the netting.

"Ori! No! Don't!"

But it's too late for his protests to stop my plans. I saw through one of the lengths of the netting with my whittling knife, and as soon as I do, the entire net goes slack around the wiretail. The magical enchantment that kept him pinned to the ground is broken. The wiretail gets his massive bulk off the ground, a low growl escaping his powerful jaws. He jerks forward, but my control over his mind stops the beast from launching at me or using his tail violently.

"That's it. I told you, you furry bastard, I'd make you submit."

Khalil is looking on with absolute shock plastered all over his facial features. He's still backed away from the wiretail, but he does slowly crouch down and start to pull the netting back and away from overtop of the still angry–yet holding fast–wiretail in front of us. I take a half step forward, gaining confidence in my control over the beast. A growl escapes the massive feline beast, but I don't flinch away. My pale eyes are focused on the wiretail's amber-gold ones.

"Khalil, tell him to relax and that I only want to have him do things occasionally. The other times, he'll be able to do pretty much as he pleases."

"Maybe we should just use the commands Kline told us about."

"We'll use those in the future; just do as I say for now." A few moments after I say that, I add a little murmur, "Please."

Khalil nods his head, which I see in my peripheral vision. A few long moments pass, but then the wiretail standing at my head's height slowly sits on his back haunches. I briefly close my eyes and reopen them, imagining the wiretail bathing itself. As soon as I think about it, the wiretail starts to lick at one of his paws–as if he has the sudden urge to clean himself rather than murder Khalil and me where we stand.

"Wow…" Khalil breathes out the word.

I slowly step towards the giant beast now sitting in front of me. The cat turns his head to watch me suspiciously as I draw near, but I force him to understand that allowing me to approach is alright. The bull-sized feline returns to cleaning his front paws and legs, and I move up to touch one of my hands on his powerful, muscled neck and front shoulder blades.

"What's his name, Khalil?"

"He doesn't understand the question, so I'm guessing he doesn't have one."

"Try to explain the concept of a name to him. Then tell him my name and yours."

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"Yeah, alright, sure."

My hand traces along the magnificent beast's sandy-colored and coarse fur. I touch my hand to the black markings, which turn into stripes horizontally lining his sides back towards his pitch-black tail.

"Alright, he understands the idea of a name now. I think he does, anyway. What d'you want me to do next?"

"Ask him what name he wants."

"This'll be funny, I think." Khalil, still afraid, does seem a little amused by the idea of letting the great cat pick his own name.

As Khalil lapses into silence again, I hear the footfalls of Kline as he makes his way back towards us across the tamped-down gravel of the traveler's path. He scuffles to a stop behind me, then exclaims.

"The hell have you done? You've removed the netting! What are you doing?!"

"Calm down, jackass. We've got it under control, can't you tell?"

"This is a horrible idea."

"It's fine, I can control him."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said. Clean out your ears."

"How did you?"

"Maybe because it turns out that, to your great fucking surprise: I'm better than you, Kline, now shut the fuck up."

Kline grunts behind me, but he doesn't say anything else. His "air of mystery" or whatever he was trying to always present to others is completely gone for me. There's nothing mysterious about him in my mind; I see him as weak and more or less useless now that we've been together for a time. I understand why he was chosen to be the face of any expedition, but when it comes to getting things done, it's much better to ignore him.

"Ori, my dude," Khalil laughs, "he is trying to name himself stuff like kills-the-best and caught-a-bird." Khalil laughs a few more times while trying to get that out. I smirk a little despite my attempt to stop it.

"Oh, he wants to be a badass, huh?"

"Seems so."

"What about Maverick?"

The feline beast in front of me grunts and chuffs a few times after Khalil goes silent. Once again, after a brief pause, Khalil pipes up again.

"Yeah, that's a no. Dude here countered with hunts-at-midnight. So, we're getting somewhere, I think?"

"That's not a terrible name, but I'm not going to say that all the time. Ask him to come up with something shorter."

Khalil lifts his shoulder in response to me, seemingly fine with being the interpreter. Kline, still nearby, murmurs.

"What a waste of time. Letting a wiretail pick its name? This is ridiculously stupid."

"It's a he, Kline, and unlike you and your people, we appreciate the Wilds and the creatures that come from it. There's nothing wrong with letting them gain some consciousness and understanding. And there's certainly nothing wrong with letting them understand a name before asking them if they'd like to pick one for themselves. You and I have a different view of our place in the Wilds, Kline, and I don't care much about your version. So, do me a favor and, again, kindly shut the fuck up and go sit down or something."

"I don't have to take this from you, Orion. As soon as I get back to Blackham City–"

"–You'll do exactly as you promised, which is set the records right about my ownership of this wiretail."

The interruption and reminder of his blood oath have destroyed any remnants of his arrogant speech and actions. Kline withdraws and moves away from us to where his saddled wiretail rests peacefully on the roadside.

"Ori, this is a pretty good one. Not short, though. Stalks-far-and-wide?"

"So, Ranger?"

"That's pretty good. Let me ask."

The sandy-colored beast finally lays his black and brown head down on the ground, then rolls from side to side in the hard-packed dirt like he was scratching an itch on his back. I have to take a step back so that his weight doesn't crush me. I slowly release my vise grip on his mind but don't completely sever our connection–just in case. Stepping back slowly towards my pack, I carefully crouch down and pull out the last bit of my jerky from the bottom of the bag. With it in hand, I walk over and kneel next to the large cat rolling back and forth in the dirt of the traveler's path.

"He seems to be okay with that."

"Okay, Ranger it is then."

I take a bite from one of the pieces of jerky and toss one from my stack to Khalil. The wiretail, now called Ranger, turns his head to watch the jerky tossed through the air and grumbles with his bassy vocals. I look over at Kline and whistle slightly to draw his attention. I pick off another piece of the long jerky strip and toss it in his direction. He catches it before it hits the dirt, then inclines his head to me. Unlike Khalil, who immediately starts munching on the jerky I gave him, Kline puts his away. I snag one more piece of jerky off the stack before I lean forward and put most of it down in front of Ranger.

"Eat up, buddy."

The wiretail looks at the strips of dried meat suspiciously, so I take a bite openly and chew exaggeratedly while encouraging him with my mind to eat the perfectly safe food. It doesn't take much effort to prompt Ranger into following his nature, and sure as the sun rises in the morning, Ranger rolls back over to his feet and immediately starts scarfing down the jerky I gave him.

I stand up, holding the leftover bits of the stack, and cut it in half before putting the remainder into my pack again. I walk over towards Kline and his wiretail, finishing off the piece of jerky I'd been working on with a few more bites. I clear my throat before offering Kline the few last pieces of the strips.

"Should give these to your cat. I assume you guys didn't feed them any of the stew earlier."

Kline nods his head at me before taking the jerky from me. He turns and sets down the strips in front of his cat's face, still moving with lethargy, which suggests he's still brooding or sulking from my dressing him down. I don't care about his mood; I just don't want the animals hungry. Khalil pipes up from next to Ranger.

"We should get some rest. Maybe Cassandra will have come back by the time we wake up."

"Probably right," I reply listlessly.

"Think Ranger'll be good and, you know, not try to kill us in the few hours we get some shut-eye?"

"I think he'll be alright now. I already released pretty much most of the control on his mind, and he hasn't tried to eat anyone yet. He was already kind of brought into line before he wound up going free, so maybe he just needed to remember that we're not food. I'll saddle him up if you don't mind telling him I'm going to do it first."

"Yeah alright, sure Ori."

I nod before walking the few feet from Kline to where the saddle was left behind from before. I heft up the charcoal-colored saddle with its golden and indigo-colored embellishments pressed and stitched into the heavy, quality leather. Saddle in hand, I shuffle my tired feet and body toward Khalil and Ranger. Khalil nods to me, and Ranger grunts and stands up on all four paws again as I approach. He shakes his coat back and forth like he is trying to get water off of his thick fur, but instead, he causes a poof and cloud of dirt–from the ground he just rolled on–to fly everywhere. The wiretail stretches forward and back, like a feline a tenth of his size, before setting his golden and amber-eyed gaze on me.

"First time doing this, Ranger, so don't get pissed about it if I take longer than you're used to."

Naturally, the cat doesn't respond. Instead, he stands there looking at me with the most disinterested look a feline can muster. After setting the saddle blanket carefully onto the wiretail's back, I heave the saddle up and over, resting it onto Ranger's back in the exact location that I've seen the other wiretails have their saddle placed on. The wiretail grumbles and chuffs, and for a moment, I pause, making sure with our mind link that he does not intend to attack me. I feel an overwhelming sense of annoyance through the link of minds, but not aggression. I carefully pet Ranger's black and sandy-brown fur where the saddle blanket touches so he's not uncomfortable. Then I strap down everything that keeps the saddle attached to the great cat. Finally, I move up to Ranger's neck and add the last sides of the saddle that allow the rider to steer the cat.

"There we go, all good, Ranger."

I pause while standing next to the impressive beast, a sort of warm thoughtfulness drifting over me before a ghost of a smile takes to my lips. So much has changed in such a short time. There was no way that I could have expected to be in the position I'm in, with ownership over a wiretail as a Wilder–let alone the very same wiretail that almost killed me weeks before. I used one of the commands Kline taught me for testing and convinced Ranger to lie back down and rest. I sit down with my back against the saddle and gaze at Khalil. He grins a little in response to me.

I try to grin in response, only openly managing it for a few seconds, but exhaustion is truly starting to overcome me. I barely register my eyes closing and my muscles slackening, but soon enough, I'm entirely asleep with my back against one of the most dangerous creatures in the Wilds.