Hey, thanks for clicking in! Wrandom Writer, here, with my first HDM fic! It's kind of shame that there's no exciting plot to it. . . :-/

But! I am asking that you don't really read this for plot, just pay attention to the characters, please. :) I've had Becca in my mind for a while and she's been on paper, so I decided to put her and Sanders on FF and see what people thought of 'em.

Please keep in mind that I wrote this the same day I published it (Bad, Wrandom, I know!) so, although I did check over it, I probably didn't check over it that well. So, if you notice anything, I don't mind if you point it out, please just know that I simply missed it!

So, I think that's about it. . .

Please enjoy, all reviews welcome and appreciated!

Becca tied the last shoe lace of her blue running shoes and yawned. She really didn't like going for morning runs, nor did her bobcat daemon, Sanders. He bared his fangs in a tired yawn on the couch beside her.

"Come on, Becca, let's hurry it up," he complained in a drowsy voice. "If I'm going to be up before the sun, I want to at least be doing something."

Becca rolled her eyes. "Shut up. I don't like it either, but we don't really have a choice, do we?"

"Well we do. . . But for some reason your choice always seems to be waking up at the crack of dawn to jog five miles."

Becca rose from the carpet where she had been sitting and moved to the kitchen. Sanders stepped off the couch and followed lazily.

"It's not five miles," she said opening a cabinet and locating her water bottle. "It's only three."

"Close enough," Sanders mumbled.

"Besides," Becca continued. "If it's what we have to do to get on Marco's team, we should do it. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind being on one of the best paintball teams in the state." Turning on the faucet, Becca let the cool water pour through the bulky filter and into her green bottle.

Sanders sat on his haunches, thinking. "I suppose it would be fun," he said after a moment of silence.

"That's what I thought," Becca said smartly. She screwed the cap tightly onto her water bottle. "Now, stop complaining and get ready to run. I told Jone that we'd meet him and Zatia by the school by five. It's four forty-five." Becca drew her hair into a short pony-tail. It was more of a stub, than a tail, as it was thin and only down to her shoulders. "C'mon, let's go! Chop, chop!" Becca clapped her hands loudly, annoying Sanders a great deal. He growled quietly and followed his human out the door.

Water bottle in hand, Becca began at a light jog down her street, Sanders trailing reluctantly at her heal. The suburbs were quiet this time of morning, dim too. Everyone and their daemons were either sleeping at home, or already at work. Becca envied her sleeping neighbors as she forced her legs to carry her forward.

"Why do I have to have such short legs?" she asked Sanders.

"'Cause you're a short person," he replied, pleased with his answer to her rhetorical question.

"Hey, I'm not that short," she said.

"Becca, darling, you're fifteen and a half, and five foot three."

"Hey, you're short too!" Becca shot back.

"I'm a lynx. Of course I'm short. I'm supposed to be short. What's your excuse?"

"Oh, shut up." Becca couldn't help but laugh at her daemon's reasoning.

Jogging to the school was the perfect warm up for. . . jogging at the school. By now, Becca's blood was pumping at a fast, but steady rate, and her muscles were warm and ready to work. The highscool came into view along with a tall, dark figure leaning against the front gates. A hyena sat patiently at his side. It was Becca's friend, Jone, and his daemon, Zatia. Jone was tall and slim. His skin was dark, almost black; nothing like Becca's creamy skin tone.

"Hey, Becca!" he called as she appraoched. "It's about time you guys got here!"

"What? I told you I'd be here by five!" Becca replied as they got closer. She slowed to a stop, catching her breath. Sanders slowed and walked to sit beside Zatia, letting his own breathing return to normal.

"And what time is it?" Jone asked as if he were a parent and Becca was his child late for curfew.

Becca checked the watch on her wrist and rose an eyebrow. "It's four fifty-five."

"Exactly! You're early!" Jone said, pointing a dramatic finger at her.

"You make absolutely no sense," Becca laughed, taking a drink of water.

"True," Jone said in mock-thought, putting his hand to his chin. "But that's why you stick around, isn't it?" He flashed a large, unflattering smile, making Becca giggle.

She pushed him away. "You're such a dork," she said.

Jone chuckled. "Yeah, I know."

"When are you going to start acting your age?" Becca asked playfully.

"That's what I keep wondering," Zatia said to Sanders in her unexpectedly high-pitched voice.

"Tell ya what," Jone said, preparing to jump over the tall fence. "I'll start to act my age, when you start to look your age." With little effort, Jone lifted himself off the ground with his hands and swung his legs over the fence.

"Oh, whatever," Becca said rolling her eyes. She tossed her water bottle over the fence for Jone to catch. Using her arms to get better lift, Becca jumped to the top of the fence and dropped down, bending her knees with the impact. Sanders followed, compacting his body and then springing to the top of the fence, kicking off with his large hind paws.

"Oh, I hate fences!" Zatia whined, backing away to get a running start. "I'm not made for jumping!"

"Maybe you should have settled as something more. . . flexible," Sanders teased.

Zatia only glared as she clumsily worked her way over the fence, Jone wincing in unison as she stumble.

"Well then," Jone began, rubbing his daemon's neck. "To the track!"