A/N: Here, have your daily dose of cat nightmare fuel.
BTW, this story is not meant to have a plot. These are probably all going to be a bunch of semi-connected, ridiculously short drabbles, all exploring the idea of Jack as a cat sidhe. So no organization. Ooops.
Disclaimer: If I owned RotG, I would be rich, and then I wouldn't be writing my stories on a crappy laptop that's approximately five seconds away from exploding in my face.
His heart sang with the thrill of the hunt and the chase; it danced through his veins like a drug.
He yowled, a screeching war cry that would have pierced the hearts of his foes with terror. His black paws flashed underneath him as he ran, thorns and bushes pulling at his pelt. In that moment, frenzied with the electrifying sensation of the pain and the adrenaline, he felt truly free.
It was a relief from the oppression of his new (and unwanted) job as a Guardian. The task itself filled him with revulsion. Since when was he a protector of children?
However, now he was free. Free to scour the landscape, free to hunt down his prey. He felt his four newly acquired souls churn uneasily in his chest, and he hummed contentedly. Yes, he had made sure of that. The Guardians would never try to chain him again.
However, that did not mean his job was done. During his brief stint as a Guardian, many spirits had challenged him, thinking he was now easy prey. He had turned from a legend of an inescapable death, to a fluffy kitty who was now a Guardian. Oh, look at the cute little kitty. He's a Guardian now, he won't hurt you!
Yeah, right. By the end of the night, he'll have shown those fools just who was in charge here. Hopefully, they wouldn't make such a mistake again.
Suddenly, he heard a yowl from his left, and he answered back in a similar manner. He knew that yowl well, for centuries of hunting together had led to them being almost inseparable companions.
He burst out of the bushes, scrabbling hastily in front of the other soul stealer. She too had black fur, but her eyes were green instead of his own harsh amber.
You have hunted well tonight, Little Winter, she purred, eyes lingering on the confused swirling of red, gold, violet, and emerald around his chest.
Indeed I have, Amonute.
Indeed I have.
A/N: How did this manage to be shorter than the previous chapter.
Seriously, how.
...Review?