Subject 212 glared at the Whitecoats. She bared her fangs in a feral snarl as she reluctantly allowed them to lead her over to the courtyard. What would they do to her? It was probably going to be a fight of some sort, but against what? Subject 212 quivered in fear at the thought of what they might put her up against.

The Whitecoats roughly shoved her into the courtyard, the gates surrounding it slamming shut. Except for one. There was ample foliage and instinctively Subject 212 ran for cover, her instincts demanding that she do so. Her long, sleek, black tail swished nervously. Her catlike ears twitched in alarm. She sniffed the air, searching for some sign of what would come get her. She heard a scuffle as something was shoved in. She raked her claws into the ground nervously as she peaked out. The creature was another subject, one with bird DNA. Subject 212 had panther DNA and she immediately saw the winged human as a snack. She shook her head, attempting to drive away her feral instincts. It was another poor creature, just like her. It was a young boy and looked to be about five years old. Its brilliant blue wings stood out against its pale skin. She couldn't help but feel relieved. Now she could sit here without fear of getting hurt. While she was 17% panther, the other subject would only be 2% bird, and she seriously doubted that it would have her hunting instincts.

"Subject 212, kill it!" A Whitecoat called out.

Subject 212's ears perked up. What! She would have to kill that poor person… She was tempted to stay right where she was, but then remembered the last time she had disobeyed the Whitecoats. She whimpered at the pain that they had caused. She snarled at the thought of submitting to their orders, but she would have to.

Subject 212 gave a sigh as she surveyed the area. There were no trees to climb and no way for the bird creature to escape. A simple net had been placed over the top of the courtyard, disallowing the bird creature any chance of escape, but that did not stop it from giving a scream and jumping into the air, its wings beating wildly. She watched as it soared this way and that before quietly stalking out of her cover. She dove into the next patch, slowly zigzagging her way over to it.

Subject 212 couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor creature, as well as a bit annoyed at its cowardice. The last time something had been told to kill her, she had killed it. She hadn't run (or flown) around in a panic. Then again, she had weapons to use. She had fangs, claws, and most importantly, a killer's instinct. Subject 212 knew instinctively when to attack and how to cause the most damage. She doubted that a bird creature knew any of that. She could smell the intoxicating sense of its fear, and she felt her instincts threatening to wash over her. She felt her body yearn to take control, but she firmly pushed it away.

As the bird creature started to settle down, its eyes carefully scanning the foliage, Subject 212 stood still. She could have been a statue. When the bird creature turned away from her, Subject 212 quietly ran up, her bare feet making no sound against the hard dirt. She gave a silent leap and landed squarely on the bird creatures back. She knew exactly how to deal with bird creatures, the Whitecoats had started to put her up against a lot of them recently, and this one would prove easy prey. Subject 212 tore at the wings with her fangs and claws, ripping away feathers and chunks of flesh. She felt a twinge of remorse as the bird creature gave a scream of pure agony.

There was a crash as the two fell to the ground. Subject 212 quickly rolled the bird creature over and placed a foot on its chest, effectively crushing its bloody wings. Feathers started to fall down around them. Deep blue feathers covered in its thick blood. She raised her claws up to deal the killing strike, as she had done so many times, when her amber eyes locked with its clear blue eyes. She could see the pain and fear inside them as it lay on the ground without protest. It knew that it would die, and that she was to be its killer. That she was to be the instrument of its doom. A tear leaked out of Subject 212's eye.

"Kill it. Now." The Whitecoats commanded.

"I'm so sorry." Subject 212 whispered, her throat dry. As if to soothe her nerves, the bird creature shut its eyes and gave a small nod.

"Do it fast," she heard it whisper, "It will be good after what they have done to me."

Subject 212 gave a quiet sob, more tears leaking down her face. Subject 212 closed her eyes. She didn't want to see what would happen next. She pulled her arm back, and using all her panther-bestowed strength, she placed her hand on the bird creature's chin.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered again before she forced its chin upwards with the heel of her hand. Subject 212 heard the vertebrae give a loud crack as it snapped. The only comfort that Subject 212 could take was that she had given her fellow subject what it had desired: a quick and painless death.

Feeling very much broken, she allowed the Whitecoats to take her back to her cage and lock her in.

Far away, in a tiny house, Angel woke up. The 5 year old shook in her bed and whispered into the darkness, "The hunter, she will need help. We have to save her."

Angel quickly decided that she would take the Flock out tomorrow to save the poor girl, before allowing sleep to claim her again.