The Games

by snowygrin

He curled his long tail around the tip of his nose, falsely reasurring himself that everything would be fine. But he knew it was pointless. When it came to the games, so he had heard, you were padding into a death trap. He had also heard, that if you do survive, you will not be the same. If you return, you are broken beyond repair.

4. The Games

Chapter Three

The cliff walls rose hundreds of tail-lengths into the air around the tributes, their weathered red surface was foreboding and only reminded the cats of what situation they were about to become a part of.

The tributes were being marched by a great number of guards to their dreaded destination. These guards were cats unknown to them, and unfortunately for the tributes, they were bore unnaturally long and sharp claws.

It was the night the games would begin. It was the night of death.

It was still early evening, and the air was heavy with the heat of last dying rays of the sun, which caused the canyon walls to glow a sickening shade of red.

Snare padded uneasily along with her ears perked. Her eyes darted from side to side, half expecting the guards to attack her. A particularly small tom who was stationed in front of her suddenly darted to the side. Crazed by the searing heat, he attempted to scrabble up the side of the cliff. Immediately two of the guards rushed over, unsheathing their long claws. Snare looked away, hearing the haunting yowls of the unfortunate tom echoing off the jagged rocks.

Night fell quickly, the prisoners padded along, not feeling the slightest bit of weariness that usually followed such a long trek. They were simply too full of fear of the circumstances they were entering.

They had exited the canyon several hours ago, the moon was steadily climbing in the sky and the sun had long disappeared behind the ever darkening, distant mountains.

Snare observed the moonlit environment. They had entered a forest. It was dense, with a large amount of undergrowth and a great many trees.

The guards were now each taking a prisoner. Snare was assigned to a large gray tabby who greatly resembled a lynx. He glared at her with narrowed eyes. She seemed to melt inside herself.

Each guard took their prisoner to the clearing where they all stopped. They sat, staring warily at each other for what seemed an eternity.

Snare closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe. Another guard padded out of the trees, his tail swaying gracefully behind,

"Welcome to the games." He meowed,

"Here is the one rule: you may not pass the marked border, and if you do, you will be killed." His eyes narrowed,

"May the odds be ever in your favor." Each guard held his or her tribute to the ground, using their powerful claws to keep them steady. The tom let an evil smile flicker across his face before yowling,

"Let the games begin!"