Yep. I'm a TG fan. What can I say; I mean, the guy looks like a giant, angry, war-mongering kitten!

Hmmm...'War Kitten.' Nice.

Anyhoos, please note that most of the reviews don't apply to this story, but the story that this WAS, before I used this space for THIS story...aww, Hell!

Anyways, here's chapter two! EEEeee...

Flippy found himself standing in a clearing, dazed and confused. Sharp, biting chemicals stung his nose, making his eyes water, and screams and scattered gunshot were audible through the trees of the jungle.

Trying to get his bearings, he looked around, a faint sense of recognition drifting through his muddled brain, then looked down to realize that he held a pizza box in his shaking hands. Hesitantly, he opened it, revealing a few grease stains and a long, wicked-looking knife.

Realization struck him and he threw the box down, taking off through the trees, breath coming in sharp gasps, barely audible over the blood surging through his ears. Footsteps began to pound behind him, and someone threw themselves against his back, shoving him roughly to the ground.

"Muahahaha! Still incompetent, little bear?" a deep, sharp-edged voice growled. "Still incompetent, though you come with many and I stand alone?" Flippy could do no more than shake, curled up as he was, and the voice gave another laugh. "I remember you well, little fool..." The cruel bite of cold metal stung Flippy as he was lifted by the scruff of his neck, and he hung, screaming and thrashing, from the claw that had impaled him and lifted him from the ground.

The Tiger General stood there, eye shining, teeth bared in a ferocious grin.

"Say something, forest-devil!" he growled. "Say something to make me let you go."

"P-please..." Flippy choked. "...Please don't h-hurt me..." The Tiger General smiled, his expression softening greatly.

"Would you like me to let you go?" he asked, gently, and Flippy froze, unsettled by the glint in the General's dark blue eye.

"Y-yes, p-please," he whimpered as meekly as possible. The General smiled, giving an almost-fatherly chuckle.

"Very well." His expression of benign kindness unchanging, he opened his claw.

Flippy found himself tumbling down a cliff face, screaming, still able to hear the General's mocking laughter over the sounds of his fear, the rushing wind, the faint roar of the ground that rushed to dash him to pieces.

As he hit, he felt no pain. Instead, a red haze moved in to cloud his vision, and there, a few feet away, was the dead Tiger General. Mud and blood was spattered across his uniform, his mouth hanging open, eye glassy. His claw had been ripped off, leaving the bare stub of flesh exposed, and Flippy chuckled at how pathetic he looked, now that he had been defeated; a mere pussy-cat after all.

He felt a sudden, sharp sting, followed by a throbbing pain that crept up his arms, and he looked down, his eyes meeting only jagged wrist-bones; the bastard had cut his hands off! With a roar of agony and rage, he flung himself at the dead General and began to dismember his body, ripping his belly open, tearing through his sternum, snapping the arms and legs, slicing his face from his skull. The scent of blood washed over him, making him excited, fueling his anger like some sort of stimulant. He, drunk with his victory, threw back his head and howled, as if telling whatever lurked in the jungle that HE was the alpha, that no creature could stand before him without being crushed.

A soft sound drifted through the trees, making him pause mid-roar and turn, ears pricked forward, red haze retreating. There it was again; a woman wailing in the language used by most creatures of East Jungle, her voice sad and unearthly. A few yards away, something huge was moving through the trees, snaking around trunks, tossing a head adorned with two long, curving horns; a Dragon.

Fear bit at Flippy, and he jumped up and hid behind an especially large tree trunk, his back to the rough bark, holding his breath as he felt her come closer. He could feel her presence, her hot breath swirling around the tree, and he wondered if she would rip the tree down and crush him in her claws, or simply burn both the tree and him. He choked back a whimper, eyes screwed shut as he waited for the blast of fire he felt was sure to come.

The Dragon growled...and Flippy felt her giant form withdraw, leaving him. He let out a sigh, his body relaxing, then turned to look around the trunk, thankful to see that she was gone completely, out of sight once more.

Smiling, he turned back and found himself staring into an open maw rimmed with teeth longer than his legs, each one pointed as delicately as a sewing needle.

A tongue, sharp as a whip, lashed out and grabbed him, cutting through his uniform, slicing through his skin, the sharp spines hooking into his muscles. He screamed as he was dragged towards the maw, and a surge of blue fire rushed up her gullet to greet him...

...And he awoke, tangled in the bed sheets, soaked through with a cold sweat. A feline sat on the edge of his bed, blue fur glowing softly in the dim light, one cobalt eye meeting his, and Flippy panicked, pushing the covers off and jumping up, eyes gone from raven black to emerald green, crooked, sharp teeth bared.

"DIE, BASTARD!" he roared, plunging his fist towards the feline's face with all intention to destroy.

"Oh no you don't, sugar!" A slender hand caught his oncoming fist and held him still, and the feline's one eye glowed a blinding blue, and the light, as if touched by an invisible hand, clicked itself on.

Flippy growled and flung his free hand over his stinging eyes, and the hand holding his fist let go. He looked up, eyes watering.

There, one eye swollen shut, was Eerie, the light blue feline-demon that lived with Flippy. She looked rumpled, as if she had been woken up in a hurry, and a dark bruise bloomed on her cheek.

"Eerie?" Flippy winced; his voice was still ragged from roaring.

"Hey, Flip." She smoothed back her darker head-fur, looking slightly annoyed, then sat down on the edge of the bed. She held her arms out, and he sat down next to her, contentedly snuggling against her as she stroked her graceful hands through his fur.

"What happened?"

"You must have had a nightmare, hon." She gently touched the bruise on her face. "You were thrashing something awful."

"I hit you, didn't I?"

"It didn't hurt a bit."

"Sorry..." Flippy tentatively brushed one hand across the bruise, then over her swollen eye, and the irony almost made him laugh. "You know, when I saw you, you looked just like..."

"I know, hon." She pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. "I know. Don't worry about it." He slipped his arms around her, head nestled against her chest, and she shifted the both of them until they were lying down again. Flippy sighed, nuzzling her.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, closing his eyes. A small shudder ripped through him before he looked up, emerald eyes sweeping over the damage he had done. When he spoke, his voice was rough and low. "I'm sorry too, my kitten."

"It's fine, sugar," she repeated. "Don't worry about it. The both of you."

"Okay, babe." He leaned up and kissed her, then pulled back and studied her face. "In truth, you do look just like old 'Tiger-Claw' himself. You even might be related."

"Ugh." Eerie shoved him off of her and rolled over, and Flippy chuckled, cuddling up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his lips against the back of her neck.

"Aw, c'mon, kitten," he purred, his words whispered into her fur. "You know I'm just pulling your tail..." As if to prove his point, he tugged gently on the tip of her tail, moving it aside, and she huffed.

"Very well," she said slowly, half-turning to look at him. "But I swear, if you call me by his name-"

"I'm not gay," Flippy growled, then grabbed her wrists and turned her onto her back, pinning her down. He grinned, his narrowed eyes meeting her gaze; she looked, for the moment, as if she wouldn't mind tying him up and using him as a punching bag. "Would you like me to prove it to you?" His voice came out in a rasping hiss, and she stuck her tongue out.

"If you can, you old teddy-bear." Flippy chuckled before crushing his mouth, none too gently, against hers.

As if by its own accord, the light clicked off.

Short chapter. Again. I've been rushed for time and...well...yeah.

[sigh]

It'll get better, I swear. I'm too tired right now to think.

Next chapter will be up next week. I promises.

Cheers!