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The Tapping of a Sword
The only thing Pumyra could hear as she returned was the tapping of a sword. Donalbain sat there in the small, desolate clearing in the shade of a shattered pillar from a long-crumbled building. He was tapping his sword against the ground, his eyes narrowed as whatever thoughts were in his head raced around.
The puma approached the white-skinned Evabon and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Donalbain?" she asked, her voice soft. When he did not answer, Pumyra then commented: "If only you had been born a cat. What a man you would make." Normally, Donalbain would have replied with: "If only you had been born an Evabon… If only you were not Mumm-Ra's" but still he did not acknowledge her. Digging her nails into his shoulder and not stopping until she drew blood, a look of frustration appeared on the Turncoat of the ThunderCats. Donalbain would still not acknowledge her. Why did he not speak to her? Why did he not strike when she drew blood from him? What was the matter with him?
There was one thing on Donalbain's mind. He was back in his days in Procyon's horde, before he was Donalbain, before his skin was as white as the mountain snow. His name was Menteith, "Brabantio" Baron Tass would name him, an Evabon with skin as red as wine. He listened as Procyon spoke to his warriors and never forgot any of it.
"Our mission is to make sure our people are never hunted like beasts, used for serfs or under the heel of any tyrants ever again. We have delivered countless Evabon and slain many enemies but the greatest of our opponents is still unfought! To Thundera will we march and when Thundera falls, our campaign will be for all intents and purposes finished! Our people will be free and I will find my brother Gard and he shall be…"
Procyon never got any further. He fell to the ground, shaking. He stayed there as every warrior in his horde stared in horror, with some wondering if they should get a healer. Then Procyon stopped shaking, slowly got up, drew his sword and killed the nearest warrior. The bloodlust curse had taken him and what Procyon would have said was lost. The only thing to do when the bloodlust took Procyon was to either run or bind him and when he was armed no one dared to do the latter.
Donalbain thought of that day and he remembered how often Procyon had spoken of Gard in general. Sometimes positively, sometimes negatively, either way most of the time Procyon spoke of his younger brother with great respect.
The Battle of Thundera broke Procyon a great deal though. Donalbain never saw Procyon again after that.
"Donalbain…" Pumyra said, speaking once more. "Gard has arrived at the ThunderCats encampment."
Donalbain stopped tapping his sword. He turned to look at Pumyra and smiled.
"Excellent." He said. "This time, it all ends."
