Sasha and Fuzzy - Sunday August 12th, 2074 – Early morning – Ares Macrotechnology Arcology

The girls woke up early again for their hunt, though this time, Sasha was the worse for wear after eating too much ice cream and not sleeping enough. Fuzzy felt better, but not great, though she was to powering through bad sleep and bad food on her hunts. She wasn't happy about it, but in her experience, what had to be done would get done.

This was the day that Fuzzy would kill her first deer in the woods with her best friend. She'd only taught one other person how to hunt before despite not feeling her best, it excited her to share what she did best with Sasha.

They had a cold breakfast so as not to wake up Sasha's parents in the high rise corporate apartment with the smell of cooking food. Fuzzy had some fruit, the last of the porks and Dale's juice. Sasha found her own food and ordered snacks to be picked up at the hunting grounds. Everything was dark in the apartment save for a well-lit picture of a man which was the only source of light in the living room save when they opened the fridge in the adjacent kitchen. In fact it was a painting- A real, honest to goodness painting. Older, human, Caucasian, bearded, suited, handsome and strong, he seemed to be gazing at something outside of the picture with a steely eyes as if he owned it.

'Is that your...Grandspas?" asked Fuzzy.

People tended not to live long in Puyallup to become grandparents, but she was passingly familiar with the word.

"Grandpa. And no. That's the current CEO of the company, Damien Knight,” said Sasha, “He owns a lot of it and runs Ares from the top."

"He must be clever to be so old," said Fuzzy.

"Actually the rumor is that he's looking to go through Leónization again," whispered Sasha, "If he does the stock prices are projected to go way up."

"What's that?" asked Fuzzy.

"It's where they make you young again," said Sasha, "It screws up your essence though so an awakened wouldn't want to do it unless they were desperate. Also it costs a ton of money."

Fuzzy blinked a few times uncomprehendlingly at Sasha.

"High technology that gets installed in an awakened's body makes our magic weaker," said Sasha, "Essence is like a rope from the body to the soul. The more that rope is damaged, the less magical power you can have."

"Because the rope is frayed," said Fuzzy.

Sasha nodded.

"The rope can be fixed, but it takes a long time and it's really expensive," said Sasha, "For most people once it's gone, it's gone, and any magic you used to have gets cut away,"

She put a hand over hear heat and spoke, as if from memory.

"Essence is the connection your body has to your soul. If you do drugs too much or implant cyberware or bioware or use gene therapy, you damage your connection to your soul. It's why I'll never do any of that. Plus it's not like I have a ton of magic to burn. I'm only middling talented. Too much tech and it might screw me up permanently. Some awakened do it though. Just a little bit to give them an edge. Magic can’t do everything. It’s mostly security and military that mix technology and magic."

She frowned and let her hand fall.

"Also saboteurs and murderers like shadowrunners," she said, acidly, "We had a total security lockdown a month ago when a runner team came in. I spent four hours in the panic room with mom. One of my dad's friends nearly died when he got shot full of holes. He's still in the hospital. Another person got kidnapped...I didn't know them but...They hurt Ares. Made our family smaller...Made us bleed."

She trailed off in sadness, but Fuzzy squeezed her shoulder.

"Let's go hunting," said Fuzzy.

"Right," said Sasha, quickly, “Sorry.”

Fuzzy and Sasha - Sunday August 12th, 2074 – Early morning – Ares Macrotechnology Arcology, hunting grounds

Hours later the girls were quietly talking in a deer stand among the Ares hunting ground inside of the arcology. And it looked just like a forest in early morning, complete with mist. And if one wasn't paying attention, one might forget that they were inside of a giant building as the roof above looked exactly like sky due to the wonders of modern technology.

"Ugh," said Sasha, subvocally, "I feel like crap. I shouldn't have eaten all of that ice cream."

Sasha bought subvocal microphones so they wouldn't scare off any game. They were tiny things that adhered to the neck and you could talk by mumbling so quietly that it was basically inaudible. It took a while to get the trick of it but once she did, she couldn't stop talking due to the sheer novelty of it.

"It's fine," said Fuzzy, subvocally as well, "If you want to you can get a nap. I'll wake you up when deer comes by."

Fuzzy adored them because she could talk nearly silently but hear Sasha clearly though through some earbuds that Sasha given her as well, though her voice was a little weird. Subvocal communication did change how people sounded.

"I'll stay up and get a nap after our kill," said Sasha.

Stolen novel; please report.

Just then, Fuzzy perked up and held up a hand, pointed to her eyes and then pointed down. In the treeline below was a deer. Quietly as they could, both girls rose in the stand and knocked their arrows.

"Aim for the heart," said Fuzzy, subvocally, "Remember where that is?"

Sasha nodded, a delighted smile slicing across her face.

"Wait for it to take a step forward then shoot behind the front leg, right?" asked Sasha, again subvocally.

Fuzzy nodded and together, they both readied their bows. And just like that, they both loosed at once. Fuzzy hit of course due to her skill and surprisingly, Sasha hit as well, though her aim was assisted by a smartlink auto-targeting system. Despite Fuzzy's experience and Sasha's tech though, both of their shots were sloppy. The deer was hit high on the back with one arrows and in the flank with another. There was no heart shot to immediately kill it and so it bellowed in pain and bounded away. The shots wouldn't be immediately lethal, but they'd bleed the animal to death as its heart raced.

"Should we chase after it?" asked Sasha.

"The instructor said we should walk after it," said Fuzzy, "If we make it run it could run for miles before it bleeds out and getting it back on our own would be a lot of trouble."

"Well...We could just follow the tags in the arrows in AR," she said, anxiously.

Fuzzy hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"I'd wanted to learn by tracking it through the brush," she said, slowly, "But I guess learning how to use computer tracking would be good too. We need to be quick though."

"Why do we need to be quick?" asked Sasha, "We shot it. It should die soon, right? Then we have someone come and collect it for us. We're done."

Fuzzy frowned at Sasha.

"That's not hunting," said Fuzzy.

"Sure it is," said Sasha, "It's a service offered by the

---

"We'll track it. We'll kill it if it’s not dead."

"Ummm...Really?" asked Sasha.

"That's what hunting is," said Fuzzy, "It's serious. You can watch me kill it or I can show you how. But it's going to suffer before it dies because our shots were sloppy. The least we can do is give it a clean death."

The elation that Sasha had felt disappeared with a shudder when Fuzzy turned away. For weeks now, to Sasha, Fuzzy had been odd, but warm and friendly. That warmth had been refreshing to Sasha. She'd learned not to be desperate for a friend and felt like she'd chosen right in Fuzzy. Even while they'd been in the deer stand, there'd been a seriousness in her aura, but warmth as well, and a tiny pain there that made the warmth all the brighter somehow.

However now when she looked at Fuzzy's aura it was filled with this grey, detached intent to kill. She swallowed her feelings, followed her friend and tried not to look at her. She felt sick and didn't pay attention at all when Fuzzy tried to teach her about how to follow wounded prey. And when Fuzzy talked to her, Sasha mumbled so quietly that not even the subvocal microphone could pick it up.

Almost twenty minutes later they found the creature still alive. It panted shallowly on its side with two arrows sticking out of it. They were huge broadheads so they'd be impossible to shake loose and would have to be ripped out which would cause even more damage. It groaned piteously among the leaves, its warm blood matted its fur and there was so much of it.

Fuzzy unsheathed the blade and she was all business. Sasha realized that Fuzzy was trying to offer an old survival knife, hilt first.

"It's suffering," said Fuzzy, her voice quiet and serious.

"I...This is so cruel," whispered Sasha.

Fuzzy nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, it is," said Fuzzy, "Which is why we need to end it."

Fuzzy pulled the survival knife away from Sasha.

"Wait..." said Sasha, "This isn't right. It's in so much pain. It's confused. And it's dying. I can feel it dying. I can see its life leaving into the astral. Spilling into the ground. It's just...I don't..."

Sasha looked on the brink of tears.

"Which is why I should end it,” repeated Fuzzy, patiently, even kindly, “I'll do it. You don't have to watch."

Sasha saw something alien in Fuzzy. In her aura was a kindness towards something she was about to kill. Sasha was no longer at the brink of tears. That moment had passed. Her tears merely fell down her face. Her face showed anxiety, fear, confusion and nausea.

"We could heal it," said Sasha, uncertainly.

"Sasha, where did you think that porks comes from?" Fuzzy asked, quietly.

Sasha looked up and Fuzzy and was suddenly even more nauseous. She'd never considered where her food came from. She'd always taken it for granted. Meat was meat. She knew where it came from and if she peered closely at her food, she could see death upon it, but that was why she made a point of never looking too closely. Seeing this animal dying in front of her put that into a perspective she'd never had before. Knowing Fuzzy was about to kill this animal and that this living, breathing thing would be butchered, it's skin and flesh torn apart, made her truly think about where her food came from. Meat that came to her was so processed that it barely registered on the astral at all.

"Our dinner last night," said Fuzzy, her tone gentle but firm, "It comes from people like me. I kill. You eat. This is life. People like me cut the pork's throat and take its flesh so you can eat it. I don't think you appreciate what we're doing here. This is the point. This is life and death. It dies so we live. This is the way of things."

"It's a pig, not porks," whispered Sasha, absently.

Fuzzy closed her eyes and found the will not to snap at her only friend.

"Correct me later," she finally said. "It's suffering while we're arguing. Enough. It needs to die."

Fuzzy turned around with her knife in hand, but Sasha ran forwards and stepped in front of her. Sensing her presence, the dying deer tried to get up but it was too weak from blood loss. All it could do was moan in pain. And so it did, though its moan was weak.

"No," said Sasha, who found stubbornness inside of her, "I can heal it. I know the spell. I'm not strong enough to do it all on my own, but I can if you help me."

"I can't cast magic," said Fuzzy, "I can't cast magic at all. I don't know any spells."

Sasha licked her lips, desperate to stop this.

"I can," said Sasha, eyes shining with tears, "Follow my lead. Add your strength to mine. We can do it together...Don't you want to know what it feels like? To do real magic?"

"Sasha..." began Fuzzy, and this time her voice betrayed hesitation.

The animal continued to suffer while the girls argued.

"Please?" Sasha asked, almost begged, "We don't need it for food. I don't want to wear its leather. We're not hungry. We're killing it because it's there, not because we need to."

"I need to," said Fuzzy, "This goes home."

Tears spilled down Sasha's eyes. She'd never prayed before, but she put her hands together, lacing her fingers and did something she hadn't expected to do. Beg. She began to beg for the life of the deer.

"Please?" asked Sasha, "Please? I can't do it without you. I'm not strong enough. Please. Don't kill it. Help me save it. It's dying and it doesn't have to."

"Please."

"Please."

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