Episode 4: "Sick Pack"

Part 2

Castle Plun-Darr; Morning, the barracks.

"There was your hour, Kaynar. Where are you?" Pumyra asked inwardly, glaring out a large gothic red-tinted window. She slumped back against the rough stone wall impatiently. "I want to get this over with sometime this century."

The morning horn blasted through the hallway. Moments later a mob of lizard soldiers vacated their rooms in the daily rush to reach their assigned posts.

Most paid her no attention. A few of the friendlier ones waved or wished her good morning. Pumyra quickly greeted them in return wearing a warm smile. Growing up in Thundera she was raised to dislike lizards. Now she was given no choice but to work beside them; not a grueling task for the most part. True they have a cold demeanor about them, but from her few experiences conversing with them, as a whole they are not "all bad." The ones are bad are horrid however.

She noticed Slithe groggily dragging his hefty carcass around the corner at the far end of the corridor with Kask, Sauro and Khamai in behind him. To her displeasure, Addicus tagged along with them apparently feeling wide awake and unusually chatty. "-do you people start with two then whoever is interested jumps in or do you organize the orgy as a community?" Puymra overhead the tail end of a stupid and/or unnecessarily detailed conversation concerning sex. She remembered overhearing some ridiculous conversations shared between the Thundercat males. This one was sure to top all of them.

Slithed yawned. "Don't asssk us ssstupid questions thisss early, Addicus."

"I'm just curious. Never talked to you people before." Addicus half grunted half chuckled, forcing an innocent expression on his face. "Will a few of you start turning female because all of you are male or does that only work the other way around?" He pressed Slithe's buttons further.

One of the lower ranking officers flashed the monkian a strange sideways look. "-Only certain species are hermaphroditic…" The soldier clarified. He glanced downward, embarrassed by the subject.

"It's a don't asssk don't tell sssort of thing for cold bloodsss." Slithe explained to Addicus He quickened his pace a little, hoping Addicus would have ended the subject on that note, but he pressed even further.

"Which species?" Addicus looked around at the other lizards. "I can't tell one of you from another. What about you, Slithe? Where you female once or however it works?"

A low hiss escaped through his jagged teeth as he swiped his tail under Addicus's legs then landed a solid left hook across his jaw, sending him toppling over backwards. Slithe immediately after pounced on Addicus and proceeded to strike him repeatedly across the head.''

Addicus knocked the reptile off in one blow, but Slithe recovered quickly. Others joined in on his behalf.

"What a cluster fuck." Pumyra's shook her head at the childish fight in progress. She pinched the bride of her nose in a futile attempt to fight away an oncoming headache. Her first instinct was to break them up, but she decided things would resolve themselves quickly enough.

It took five or six lizards for each arm plus Sauro's infamous submission hold to force Addicus still. Slithe held a broadax to his throat and hissed in his face, "Find sssomething conssstructive to do before I lob off your head and kick it to Mumm-Ra like a fucking beach ball!"

Addicus jerked his arms free. "The Mumm-Ra card you like to pull doesn't scare me." Grinning smugly and chest out he shoved past the lizard general.

"Because you're an idiot." Pumyra, and probably every lizard present was thinking. She flashed Addicus a cross look as he stomped past her. "Good morning mister popular." She smiled at him.

She expected threats or the usual "Piss off", but instead, Addicus's expression softened a bit. "Morning." He placed his hand against the wall and leaned casually next to her. "If you can take a punch like you throw one I could easily picture you as a lemur for a while." He reached for her ponytail, gently running two fingers through it.

Shocked and too nauseated to respond verbally she raised her hand to him, extending her middle finger.

"Hoo." Monkian flashed her a rather lewd grin then walked away.

"Does he know how to do anything besides hit things and piss people off?" She thought aloud.

Slithe shrugged. "Apparently not. What are you ssstill doing here? I told you what I knew about Lynxanna."

"I'm waiting for Kaynar, not that it's any of your concern."

"He's back?"

"Don't go in the mess hall just yet." She warned. "He left his kill in there."

Slithe's tail twitched with annoyance. "Ssson of a- I'll rub his nossse in it!"

"Missing breakfast wouldn't kill you." She teased. "You know what to do when I find Lynxanna, right?"

"Don't keep tabsss on me, cat; I'm not a brainless meat sssack or mental hack job. Worry about making it across the deadlandsss and back."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Are the snakes heading for the pyramid?"

"Yesss." Slithe confirmed with a nod. "I will rendezvous with them in the desert of sssinking sands once the lassst ssshipment from Cloud Peak hasss come in."

"Good. Try not to kill Addicus in the meantime."

"That's asking too much. He's lucky we need him…at least until we can get more like him." The thought put a sour frown on Slithe's face. "Maybe you would be better off taking a few of my men. Kaynar doesn't have the best focus."

"He is only going because his sense of smell is stronger than mine. Everyone else would just be dead weight; no offense, fellows." Pumyra waved apologetically to the others.

The lower ranking lizards seemed unfazed. "I would feel more confident about thisss endeavor if you did." Slithe insisted. "Thisss war has no place for femalesss. Why Mumm-Ra keeps enlisssting she-cats isss beyond me."

"It's not your place to question his reasoning is it?"

"No, I sssuppose not, but I'm ssstill right." Slithe started to walk away.

"As if you care." Pumyra's nose crinkled a little, insulted. "As far as you're concerned the less she-cats around now the less your hatchlings will have to deal with in the future."

Slithe glanced back at her over his shoulder coldly. "Sssounds fair enough to me. Cats killed my offssspring a lifetime ago." His steely frown quickly turned into a spiteful grin. "Have fun walking the dog." With that he along with the other lizards descended the stairs.

Pumyra thought of a quip in return but didn't bother. "Liar. Who could ever stand to touch him much less lay his eggs?" She once again leaned back against the wall, exhaling an annoyed sigh. "Any time, dog."

An ear-splitting scraping noise pierced her ears, making her teeth grind. Kaynar walked towards her, head high, ears forward and muzzle smiling while raking the edge of his halberd across the wall, leaning a nasty scratch in its path. Behind him walked Brindle carrying a large hiking backpack filled to the brim and a recently sharpened billhook strapped to her thigh, ears lowered in annoyance.

Kaynar stopped, keeping the edge of his blade pressed against the wall. Pumyra uncovered her ears. "Ready." He announced, looking eager. "Just need to hook her up to her sled and we're off." He motioned behind him to Brindle.

"It's about time. What were you…?" Pumyra glanced back at him over her shoulder as she started to escort them out. Something about Kaynar looked different; his features seemed neater and sleeker somehow. "Did you get…skinnier?"

He frowned. "Told you I look too skinny!"

"You are too skinny." Brindle argued in a dismissive tone. "Don't bitch; you needed all that nasty bristle groomed off. I won't be seen in Dog City with you looking like some forest freak."

Kaynar growled under his breath. "You better give it up later for this."

"No."

"I'm sorry I asked." Pumyra shook her head. "We're wasting daylight."

Kaynar wedged himself between her and Brindle and threw an arm over both their shoulders. "I have a good feeling about this trip."

Hours later;

The trio moved quickly, but steadily across the marshlands. Pumyra led, knowing Rataro's swamps best of the three of them, but Kaynar often wondered, following his nose...or maybe he was following the voices in his head.

They reached the far edges of the marshlands. Besides constantly stepping in muck and swatting away mosquitoes, the trek was not strenuous. Brindle insisted on carrying everything; claiming to be bred for it. To Pumyra's surprise, and relief, the combined weight of the load on her sled and backpack did not cause her to lag behind.

They climbed a steep hill. In the distance they could see a warm, dry savanna under calm blue skies. Castle Plun-Darr was just a haunting dark blur piercing through hazy overcast in the distant horizon.

Kaynar glanced back, sniffing the air. "Something's burning."

Brindle pointed upward, and yelped.

"What?" Pumyra glanced upward higher just slightly. A giant flaming mass was hurdling towards them. "Move!"

The females ran for cover. Smiling Kaynar backed away a few steps, watching the flames zoom in alarmingly fast. The projectile hit just before the base of the hill. The impact of the fireball shook the ground, scattering a wave of fire upward. A hot wind bursts blew through his fur, singing his cheeks and the tips of his ears a little.

Pumyra and Brindle peered down the hill at the smoldering crater left by the impact in the earth, still crackling and burning. From what they could measure visually the fodder annihilated a chunk of earth twenty some odd yards across and ten feet deep.

"What the hell was that?" Pumyra wondered aloud.

"I think it came from the castle." Brindle replied. "Balls! It nearly hit us!"

"Vultaire is busy making new toys." Kaynar laughed. "I call dibs on whatever launched that!" He shouted, pointing to the flames.

"Ask Vultaire to share when we get back; come on." Pumyra shoved Kaynar along, eager to get father out of range before a second fireball is fired.

Brindle adjusted her shoulder straps then followed, tail drooping low. "I don't have a good feeling about this trip."

Meanwhile; Castle Plun-Darr; Vultaire's workshop.

Vultaire studied the footage of the fireball launcher tests intently, taking note of the data collected. He frowned (or as close to it as his beak would allow). The results were not to his satisfactory. "Still needs adjustments." He closed the window then stood from his chair. He started to tinker with a smaller machine sitting in pieces in the center of the room; an old torture device Vultaire intended to revamp for a certain tiger. It resembled a table with restraints built into the corners, but crafted from iron to shape the outline of a person.

He spent the night contently engrossed in his work alternating between laboring over the propulsion units, the torture device and programming the castle's defenses. It had been a few days since he slept and going on three weeks since he left the castle for any reason. His pink skin had paled and his shiny plumage dulled to a murky brown-black in contrast. He was no longer Prefect; no longer a bird of the public so he no longer put forth effort in his appearance, only his inventions.

A small ovoid communication device hovered beside him. "Is everything alright? I felt the floor shake." He heard his wife's voice from the tiny speaker crystal clear along with the grinding of an electrical surgical saw going through a ribcage. What a symphony.

Vultaire was pleased to hear her working and in a good mood. "Just a test, dovey. Carry on."

"Oh lovely. What are you working on now?"

"I'm recalibrating the four winds; shouldn't take long. Then I can begin construction on the Vulture II."

"I'm dreadfully sorry about what that nasty cat did to your Vulture I. It was such a beautiful ship."

"No major loss. It gives me an excuse to perfect the new model." Vultaire reasoned. "That "nasty cat" did teach me a valuable lesson. I may not be the right bird to command an active military, but I'm the right bird to construct the weaponry."

"You always did prefer the company of machines just as I prefer the company of corpses."

"Social interaction is highly overrated and mentally draining. Eighty-five percent of my old position involved hobnobbing; I would know." He agreed. "How are the accommodations?"

"My new morgue is just like home, dovey; simply wonderful." Dr. Ossifra assured him. "My cadavers are all accounted for and chilling on ice. It was hard to get in the mood at first, but I think I can manage here." She admitted. "So many families are going to be outraged at their loved ones' funerals today."

Vultaire shrugged indifferently before setting one tool aside for another. "Consider their bodies donations to science. I know you have your doubts, but it's not so terrible building for Mumm-Ra's army. The independence is actually quite liberating."

"I fear you're in over your head, that's all."

There was long moment of silence between the two.

"Are you still angry, dovey?"

"I'm not quite sure how to feel." Dr. Ossifra confessed. "This happened so fast. There was news in the gazette about the fall of Thundera, but I never imagined the wars would reach Avista."

"Neither did I, but the birds must adjust to the current circumstances."

"And if they cannot?"

"Then I do not foresee you running low on cadavers at any point in the near future." Vultaire replied without missing a beat. He attached a small solar panel to the side of the table then punched in a long sequence on a large visual nightmare of a computer consol. "There, all set." He announced, giving the completed four winds device a nod of approval. A platform beneath the torture device hummed as it turned on and lifted the four winds a foot or so off the ground, allowing Vultaire to push it with ease.

Mechanical duel doors opened as Vultaire approached, allowing Vultaire entrance into an elevator. It brought him downstairs to the Dr. Ossifra's morgue where he was greeted by an overpowering stench of stomach fluids, cold blood and formaldehyde. Vultaire stationed the torture device next to the autopsy table his wife was currently laboring over. The identity of the deceased birdman on the table was unrecognizable with his chest cavity stretched wide open/ hallowed out and his scalp peeled back to expose the brain. His organs had already been removed en mass and were set aside in a large metal bin. She hummed pleasantly, reaching for her surgical tools.

Vultaire hovered over her shoulder. Watching her work relaxed him. "Impeccable precision, m'love."

"Thank you dovey." She removed her bloodied gloves and plague mask before giving him an affectionate peck on the throat. She looked over the four winds. "Oh, what a way to go."

Vultaire couldn't help but grin. "Mumm-Ra can have the lion, but I'm taking the tiger. After I pull him apart with this I want you to sew him back together then pull him apart again piece by piece while I watch."

"Oh you-" She gently slapped him. "Shall I wear that dress you like for the occasion, dovey?"

"I insist." He took her hand and gently held it against his cheek. "In the meantime, keep away from the riff raff."

"Oh, Addicus doesn't frighten me." Dr. Ossifra insisted, pulling away to cover the cadaver in a black tarp. "There is rhyme and reason to his brutality. He mutilates to feel empowered and because his kind knows no other way to behave. I've studied creatures far more dangerous when I was a nurse performing missionary work with my first husband and his other wives in Dog City."

"Allow me." Vultaire pushed the stretcher into a large freezer and slipped the cadaver into an empty slot. "The Hound Hill Asylum? Yes, I recall you mentioning it vaguely. Dr. Rooster Roc was mauled to death by lunatics during a patient upheaval, correct?"

Dr. Ossifra shook her head. "No, dovey not just him. Almost the entire staff including doctors, nurses, custodians, their young in the nursery and ALL the patients were mauled to death by ONE lunatic." She remembered every last grizzly detail and grinned. "The blood puppy we used to call him. Cute little fellow with an awful behavioral disposition. Used to rip people apart with his bear paws and teeth if we left him alone. Couldn't let him near anything sharper than a tea cozy or may the good gods help whoever was in limb's reach. We cared for him almost five years. He suffered from delusions, hallucinations, anxiety, drastic mood swings you name it, we treated him for it. It was so tragic. His pack found him nearly torn to shreds by a rabid predator when he was a pup. My first husband tested a new vaccine on him for the local populace. The vaccination was a success and the pup lived, but his delirium lingered and worsened. His pack never claimed him, so we kept him committed for observation and testing."

"Sounds traumatic."

"It was glorious." She waved a hand dramatically, the images of red still vividly imprinted in her memory. "The massacre of Hound Hill Asylum freed me of my insufferable life as a medical aid- and my cruel bastard of a late husband-" She added under her breath "-and inspired me to peruse mortuary studies."

"Be that as it may," Vultaire digressed. "It's best you keep your interaction with the other animals here to a minimum.

"Oh dovey. I have no intentions of leaving the morgue for anything besides joining you for a test flight in the Vulture II. What color will you paint her?" She asked, resting her head gently on his featherless chest.

Vulatire paused a moment to consider. "Black."

Several days later…

Mumm-Ra circled the casting pool slowly, deliberately. He observed a vast flat wasteland. An icy wind blew a thin wave of sand over the smooth glassy ground. Four of the five moons of third earth hovered in the night sky full; the fifth waxing. They lit the way for his minions, the only three living creatures in the whole area. He pondered over their positions like pawns on a chest board.

"Ah, there you are, my beloved." He focused on Pumyra faithfully on the hunt for the AWOL Lynxanna as he had ordered. "Good kitty. Reanimating you sapped what was left of the spirit stone's residual energy I harnessed, but you continue to prove useful to me."

"The spell binding her to your will is deteriorating, Mumm-Ra." The ancient spirits of evil warned. "Her heart will soon beat for the lord of the Thundercats. Use this to your advantage."

"I shall when the time comes, ancient ones." Mumm-Ra assured them, bowing his head slightly. "Love or hate, she will obey or suffer eternally."

Mumm-Ra observed Kaynar aiding Pumyra in the hunt. Mumm-Ra curled his boney fingers over the casting pool, tapping into Kaynar's fractured psyche briefly. A chorus of tormented whispers bubbled out of the water. "March on general, bring me the rest of your curs. How long can an animal survive on madness alone?" Mumm-Ra knew the answer all too well. "On the skin you're fodder just like the rest of your wretched species, but in your head is a weapon deadlier than any axe."

He grinned exposing two rows of jagged rotted teeth. "The demons inside him have festered to maturity, as you planned ancient ones. There is just enough residual energy from the mind stone to conjure Ma-Mutt."

"Very well. Watch the skies."

Meanwhile, in the deadlands…

"You know only one of the moons is real? The others are just ghosts of dead gods!" Kaynar shouted over the howling wind blasting in their faces in an attempt to make conversation.

"What?" Pumyra cried. "Oh who cares? Shut up, Kaynar!" She dismissed whatever it was the jackal was rambling on about now. Covering her eyes to prevent blindness from the sand blowing, Pumyra looked back at Brindle who struggled to keep pace and pull her sled. "This path is horrible, Kaynar!"

"This is the only other way to avoid the Vortex! Just grin and bear it!"

Ahead the wind blew stronger. Out of nowhere intimidating dark clouds brew overhead in the previously clear starry sky. The temperature dropped a few degrees. Even Pumyra could smell the moisture in the air. "It's going to-!" A flash of lightening ripped the sky in two followed by a downpour of heavy rain.

The females stopped. "Great, monsoon season. Your timing is horrible too!" Brindle teased. "We need to find shelter!"

"Bitches always gotta complain." Kaynar sighed. "Follow me! My old home isn't far!" Kaynar sped off in a random direction. Pumyra and Brindle reluctantly followed.

"Where are you leading us?" Pumyra asked as she caught up beside him. "There's nothing out here!"

"You'll see!" He chimed.

A sinking feeling settled in Pumyra's stomach over that statement, but she swallowed it down and kept running. A ways later they came to a large building made from the same mud bricks and giant feral pachyderm bones as most of the canine architecture on the continent was made of. A large, partially collapsed chain link fence surrounded the unkempt grounds. The few windows that existed were blocked off with rusted bars. Even in the dead of night while storming it was obvious the building had been abandoned many years ago. The roof and the foundation was in ruin.

"It looks like hell on a biscuit." Brindle commented. "I won't go in."

"You will unless you rather drown in a flood like a lost rat."

Pumyra sighed. "He's right. How do we get in?"

"From the back. You'll fall through the floor otherwise." Kaynar motioned for them to follow excitedly. "To the death chute!"

Pumyra and Brindle covered their noses as they crept through a wide, yet low tunnel. "What smells terrible?"

"It's the death chute- where they used to dump the dead." Kaynar smiled, breathing freely through his snout as if the musky stench in the air were lilac.

Pumyra struggled to step cautiously in the pitch black tunnel. "Who dumped whose dead? What was this place?"

"Not much farther to the basement, don't trip." Kaynar warned. He sniffed the air before taking a wide corner. "A long time ago this used to be an orphanage. Then during the prey wars between us and the cats it was a veterans' hospital, but after the packs of war started to lose power and the economy in Dog City went to shit a bunch of missionaries from the bird nation took it over, refurbished it and turned it into a mental pound. The named it the Hound Hill Asylum." He chuckled. "Polygamy is common practice for some birds from what I was told. The head doctor that used to run the mental pound was married to all the nurses and his youngest wife at the time hated his guts. I caught her riding one of the stiffs down here. She said she just wanted to spite him, but she kept on that rigor mortis boner like it-"

"Stop!" Pumyra held up her hand, gagging slightly. "Don't want to hear anymore, please."

"It was sexy." Kaynar stopped. He found a torch on the wall and passed it to Brindle to light it. The fire revealed what appeared to be a large dungeon at the end of the tunnel. Cells were divided by heavy iron barred doors. Many shackles and chains cluttered the floor.

"Hi mom. I'm home! You haven't met Brindle yet, have you? She's a keeper." Kaynar waved to a withered canine skeleton still partially clothed in dusty rags propped up against a large smear on the wall. Kaynar noticed the strange looks the females were given him. "That's my mom. She gets moon madness sometimes. The alpha of my pack sent her here because she ate my sister and tried to eat me when we were born. Birds think insanity is hereditary. Might be true."

"That's sad; they locked her away to die down here?" Pumyra frowned.

"No, they lobotomized her, then threw her down here." Kaynar corrected her. "What they do is take this thin metal rod and shove it up your nose until-"

"We're not sleeping down here, are we?" Brindle interrupted.

"Na, upstairs is more cozy. Bye mom, see you later…Do I have to? Not in front of my- Okay, for you." Kaynar leaned forward and gave his mother's remains a kiss of the cheek.

He led them up the stairs and proceeded to give the grand tour of the asylum. "That's where they kept the screamers and moaners and that's where they kept the rocking laughers and over there they kept the self-mutilators-" Kaynar motioned to individual wings and rooms explaining which patients were kept and how closely they were monitored. "They don't really separate crazies in places like this. At least not when I was a pup." He continued. "They just lump them all together under one roof; the violent lunatics, the retards, the nymphomaniacs, the homosexuals- They chained me up with all those sick freaks, can you believe that?"

"You? No…" Brindle shook her head.

"Heeeere's KAYNAR!" The jackal kicked open a large steel door. It crashed against the wall, echoing a loud clang through the halls. "This is the lobby, make yourself at home. We have to keep it down because some of the neighbors complain I'm too LOOOOOOUUUUD!" He boomed up at the top of his lungs.

Thunder blasted through the ceiling, shaking the crumbling foundation.

Dripping wet from the storm, Pumyra sat hugging her knees to her chest, still unconvinced taking shelter in an abandoned canine insane asylum was a good idea. Kaynar and Brindle shook their coats to dry, drenching her further. "I hate dogs…" She thought, using a tremendous amount of energy to fight back the urge to claw their throats out.

Her thoughts were cut short by bolts of lightning visible through many holes in the upper floors and ceiling. In a few short seconds the bolt lit up the wing like a flash bulb. Details terrorized her keen nocturnal eyes within those few moments of visibility. She could see the establishment's busy past and good intentions turn to rot. She could see doorways to many uninviting rooms. Their interiors remained shrouded in blackness, but for a moment could sense rage and sorrow pouring from spirits most likely dwelling in the shadows.

Lightning struck again this time revealing corpses long since shriveled in the dry heat. They had been twisted and cut up to craft furniture to replace what had been broken in a fit of madness. Bones cluttered the floor. No matter where or how she sat they poked her. Hides viciously torn from their previous owners provided some cushion, though it did not make up for the overwhelming stench coming from the layer of dried blood and several other bodily fluids Pumyra cared not to identify coating three quarters of the entire interior of the building.

KABOOM!

The bolts were brighter this time. Shorter. The storm was getting closer. Some stains upon a careful look revealed sentences on the walls. She squinted, struggling to read. Many were smeared or too faded from age, but she could make out a few, "I hear them." "You never helped me." and -

Kaynar set fire to an old metal trash bin. "That's better. Sorry, bitches, can't do much about the draft, but we can dry off." He shook one last time.

"Pumyra kicked at the upper half of a skeleton lying at her feet. It crumbled to dust. She turned her nose up at the mess around her. "I was more comfortable in the dark."

"What's the matter, kitty? You don't like what I've done with the place?" Kaynar chuckled, grinning, but it faded quickly.

She started to wring out her mane. "Kaynar, you're a local. How long will this storm last?"

He sniffed the air then shrugged. "Not much longer. The wet season is never long enough out here. The forest of Silence isn't more than three days away if we make no more stops."

"Hope it's dry by morning." Brindle thought aloud digging through her belongings for a brush and a change of clothes. Kaynar noticed some firelight bouncing off some glass in one of the bags. Without permission he reached in and pulled out a half empty bottle of whisky. "Holding out on me?" He laughed before pulling the cork and taking a sniff. "You have good taste." He took a swig.

Brindle snatched it from him. "You shouldn't drink; we're on the job."

"I shouldn't drink coffee either, but I do." He laughed, urging her to join him with a friendly elbow nudge. Brindle barked at him. Kaynar's expression hardened a bit. "You need to lighten up or this is going to be a VERY long trip." He grabbed her collar and ripped her clothes off her torso.

Brindle punched him dead in the sternum, winding him. Kaynar seemed to get a kick out of the rough contact though. He wheezed out laughter. "Next dress you ruin I replace with your hide." She warned, poking him in the chest. "That nice red coat is the only part of you I'm keeping around for much longer."

"Keep telling yourself that, Brin." He chuckled before taking a seat on a makeshift chair stuffed with assorted bones and skulls. "We'll see who's tree you bark up when I'm the alpha of alphas."

Brindle dismissed him under her breath. Pumyra's ears perked. "So you DO plan to accomplish something useful out here."

"You sound doubtful."

"Some details might change that. Who are you recruiting?"

"I hadn't planned on telling you my plan." Kaynar burst out a laugh, slapping his knee.

"As your superior I suggest you consider it."

"His plan is not complicated. In all dog packs to be the new alpha you have to kill the old alpha." Brindle explained. "You would have to kill the alphas from the six dominant packs before any canine would call you general." She warned Kaynar.

Kaynar kept smiling. I wish they had left my tail so I could wag it. Take some medicine, cur. The idea makes me feel like a pup in a candy shop. You're still in control here. Bash the whore over the shoulders! His expression seemed forced now. He stood to pace the floor, rubbing his shoulders.

"Cold?"

Kaynar didn't respond. Pumyra reached to stoke the flames higher. "It doesn't really matter how you do it, I guess as long as you rally some dogs on our side. So far you've pulled your own weight; I'm pleasantly surprised. You look like Hell though. Try to sleep before we reach the forest." She instructed.

Kaynar froze with his back to them. "Animals who enter the forest of silence all wind up in a place like this." He forced a nervous chuckle. "I'm going to hunt breakfast." He announced.

Pumyra cocked her head, confused. "No you're not; it's still storming out." She denied him.

Kaynar's eyes widened with paranoia. He started to head for an exit. "Fuck you. I'm not staying."

"Fuck YOU! You LED us here! You said there's no other shelter close by. We're stuck until the storm passes." Pumyra tried to pull him back by his wrist, but Kaynar snarled at her and jerked it free. "I order you to stay." She reached in her side pocket for a pellet.

Kaynar bared his canines at her. "I'm leaving! This place is evil!"

"Then why bring us here?"

"I didn't!" He swore, nearly in tears.

"Yes you-" Pumyra exhaled a frustrated growl.

Kaynar turned his head and barked, "SHUT UP, BITCH!"

Brindle frowned. "I didn't say anything!"

"Not talking to you!"

"We should stick together. We can always hunt at dawn." Brindle argued.

"You're a hauling dog. I hunt. Be back before you wake up. We leave right after we eat."

"Wait! I said to-" Pumyra started to chase after him.

"Let him go." Brindle advised. "He'll be back."

Pumyra looked over her shoulder. Kaynar had already took off. "And if he's not? How will I get to the Forest of Silence?"

"Kaynar can hold his own. I'm not lucky enough for him to drown in the mud." Bindle cleared a spot for her to sit.

"If he's scared of this place is it really wise to stay the night? Maybe he knows something we don't."

Brindle shrugged. "No, he's is just having an episode. Better he has it outside away from me. Relax while look to see if anything I have will fit you. I know cats hate to be wet."

"Don't bother, I'm fine." Pumyra sat. "Some of that would be the meow though." She motioned to the bottle of liquor.

Brindle passed it to her and let her drink. "You seem to handle Kaynar pretty well." Pumyra commended her before passing back the bottle.

Brindle took a quick sip herself. "Well, I may have lied. I know Kaynar pretty well- well enough to believe he spent his puppy hood chained to a wall somewhere in this heaven-forsaken place." She started to brush her thick white overcoat, stopping to pull clumps of dead fur when the bristles became too cluttered. "I may have lied about other things too. I don't have anything against cats per se, but I do have business with a lion from Thundera. Calls himself the lord of the Thundercats. I thought your lord wiped out king Claudis's army."

"Most of it." Pumyra confirmed. "What business might you have with a lion?" She asked casually.

"Personal."

"Well, if you're hoping to kill him, get in line behind me." Pumyra stretched.

"Oh no. The lion I need alive. He knows the whereabouts of someone else I want dead- or he may know. I'm not entirely sure yet. That's the only reason why I'm sticking with this sorry pack." She smirked. "Could you do me a huge favor; let him live until I know one way or another."

"I can't make promises." The puma warned. "My lov-er-lord Mumm-Ra wants him dead more so than I do and I REALLY want Lion-O dead."

"Lion-O?" Brindle repeated. "A name makes this so much easier..." She noticed Pumyra shivering. "If you don't want a change of clothes at least take the wet ones off."

Pumyra blushed a little. "And change where? In the creepy padded rooms? No thank you. I'll survive; trust me."

Brindle sniffed the air. "Kaynar left. Strip right here." She turned slightly to give Pumyra the illusion of privacy.

"Thank you, but no thank you."

"Do you really think anything you have under those rags are going stimulate me? Can you even imagine just how jaded I am?"

Pumyra caved in. "All right; don't take offense. I barely know you." She slid her dress off her shoulder and let the wet material fall to her ankles. She draped them on Kaynar's Chair and pushed it closer to the flames in the hopes they would dry quicker then took her spot next to Brindle.

"Here." Brindle pulled a blanket off her sled and wrapped it over Pumyra. "I'm not proud of what I am you know?"

"Excuse me?"

"I see how you look at me; like I'm lower than dirt as all females do. Listen, the only reason I brag about selling myself is because I know hearing the details kills him inside."

"Who, Kaynar?"

Brindle nodded.

"I look at you as I would any other animal." Pumyra assured her. "Your past and your reasons for joining us are irrelevant."

"If you say so...This Lion-O must have screwed you out both ends for you to fight a war against your own kind." Brindle presumed aloud.

"Lion-O failed my entire species. He destroyed whatever future I could have hoped for."

"I know how that feels."

"Do you?"

Brindle nodded solemnly. "Yes. I do."

She studied the Samoyed a moment, or rather how the soft glow of the flames glistened against her. "You have beautiful fur." She noticed aloud, changing subjects.

"Thank you." Brindle replied absently. She had heard that same compliment from a million other animals. Sadly it meant nothing to her coming from Pumyra.

"May I brush it? It might relax me." She blushed, a little embarrassed for asking.

Brindle shrugged then handed her the brush. "Go for it; saves me a chore."

Pumyra knelt down behind Brindle and started to run the brush through her thick white fur flowing down her neck and back. Her pelt felt so silky and soft. Just as Pumyra hoped the motion soothed her shattered nerves. She kept focus on the tangles and blocked out the haunting aura of the night. "I would kill for a mane like this."

"It's all in the pedigree. I come from Hook Mountain. Not too many creatures can survive winters so cold." Brindle closed her eyes, enjoying the massage-like sensation of the wire bristles combing through her fur.

"If I start to pull too roughly let me know."

"You're doing fine. This is helping me keep my mind occupied." Her tail wagged a little, tickling Pumyra's bear leg. "In my pack, allowing another to groom your fur is the most sincere display of trust."

"I'm flattered. You don't seem like a trusting animal."

"Not at all. You have a very odd scent." Brindle's snout crinkled a bit. "It's a sad scent like death."

"That isn't death you're smelling. It's the new life Mumm-Ra gave me to replace what Lion-O ruined. He's the only being on Third Earth I've come to trust anymore."

"Never count on males. They exist to turn females into puppets." The bitch warned.

"Mumm-Ra is more than a male. Of all his subjects he genuinely values my existence."

"You think highly of your lord, don't you? You love him?" Pumyra paused. Brindle took her silence as a yes and laughed. "Another youth convinced the power of love can conquer all. HA!" Her tail wagged, amused. "I've got news for you, kitten lips, love isn't some ultimate power that keeps the planets in orbit. Love was invented by the evil spirits to hinder animal kind. It can be corrupted just like any other force in the universe. Mumm-Ra's love is meaningless."

Pumyra yanked the tuft of Brindle's neck roughly. "Are you a soothsayer? A mind reader? No? Then don't assume you know what's going on inside my head or our master's head. Puppet or not I still outrank you." The puma hissed in her ear before releasing her.

"Didn't mean to rub you the wrong way. Just giving some good advice." Brindle smoothed down her fur, glaring daggers at Pumyra. "We're both tired and miserable. A good long sleep will make the night pass quicker."

Pumyra nodded. "Go ahead. I'll stay up a while, keep watch."

"Suit yourself. No one in their right mind would sneak into this shit hole. We're living proof." Brindle stretched then sprawled out on the floor to get comfortable. "Most people I hate, but I like you. For a cat, you're a real bitch."

Pumyra laughed. "Sleep well." She sat upright, staring past the fire into the shadows. She prayed morning came swiftly and to a lesser extent hoped morning brought Kaynar back with it. She watched Brindle's chest move up and down slowly; the only indication she had fallen asleep already. Unlike Kaynar, she was a light breather and did not snore. Pumyra suspected pulling her sled all this way wore Brindle out more so than what she leads on.

Though at no point did she intend to admit this aloud to her, but Pumyra liked Brindle as well. She sensed a kindred spirit between the two of them or maybe their personalities just meshed well. Despite this her better judgment told her to keep Brindle on a short leash if she hoped to get any further use out of her. The sled dog's agenda could potentially conflict with hers. Pumyra made a mental note not to count on her.

Her thoughts drifted into the shadows. Her ears soon grew accustomed to the eerie moans, bumps and creaks of the old asylum and the overwhelming sense of danger passed. The rain tapped a comforting rhythm against the roof and outer walls. She could feel her eyelids getting heavy…

Hours later…

Pumyra found herself exploring the halls of the Hound Hill Insane Asylum. Brightly lit torches fastened to the walls guided her. The floors had been swept and scrubbed recently. Corpses did not litter the floors. Blood did not stain the walls. Everything looked new and sterile, but a haunting aura still invaded the air. A chorus of hysterical laughter, tortured howls, weeping and incoherent moaning and babbling boomed through the building. It made her fur stand on end.

She walked past the lobby area Kaynar, Brindle and she had settled for the night in. It too was clean and new, but filled with dogs, birds and a few monkians bumbling about oddly. Most kept busy with simple activities such as playing cards or reading or tossing a ball back and forth. Others were obviously too unhinged for recreation. A few kept to the corners, rocking back and forth while they sat, mumbling. One bird woman proceeded to pluck herself bald one by one. The other animals looked at Pumyra, but past her completely at the same time. A medical team monitored the rabble, keeping the more ornery ones in line with apathetic force. Watching the scene disturbed Pumyra a bit so she moved on.

Two St. Bernards in white coats shoved past her in the hall as if she wasn't there. They pulled a young red dog in a leather straight jacket along by chains. He growled, shaking his head furiously. Hen nurses flocked close behind jotting down notes. The patient whimpered, keeping his head and tail drooped low as the white coats led him to a room down the hall and locked him inside. She followed for a closer investigation.

Pumyra stopped at a large one way glass window. She jumped, startled by the reflection of her nine-year old self staring back at her. "That's impossible." She put her face close to the glass in the hopes of seeing some trace of reality.

Someone hurled themselves against the glass. Pumyra cried out and jumped back a step. A light from inside the room flickered. For a few brief seconds she could see the young pup with copper fur battered and covered in dried blood desperately pounding against the glass. The thick glass muffled his frantic yips and curses. A white coat yanked him back by the scruff of his neck. The pup flailed, snapping at him, but the larger dog eventually pinned him to the floor, leashed and muzzled him. A rooster brightly feathered and also wearing a white coat stuck the squirming pup in the neck with a syringe.

Upon receiving the "medicine" the pup laid helplessly on the floor and went into convulsions. The rooster observed, jotting down notes.

"Why?" Pumyra asked inwardly.

The white coat tied his leash to a metal ring on the wall then followed the rooster out, bolting the door shut behind him. "Not quite the reaction I was hoping for." The rooster sighed. "When he's conscious prep him for the next session of electroshock therapy."

"He chewed up the padded room and bit sister Aerial's beak off. We can't bunk him with other patients, doctor." A white coat warned. "If he mutilates anyone else you might have lobotomize him and leave him below with the vegetables."

"Further tests will determine if that is truly a prudent solution." The rooster turned and looked to Pumyra with cold black eyes. He SAW her. They could all see her now. "Now now, no wondering about alone." He scolded, flipping through a file.

Pumyra backed away, but two plump hen nurses came up behind her out of nowhere and forced her still. "Stay away from me!" She ordered.

The rooster knelt down to her eye level. "I can't rid of you of these delusions unless you let us help you." He led the way to another room. The nurses dragged Pumyra along. She protested, but inside her child body she didn't have the strength to pull free or effectively fight back. The nurses and a few white coats placed her on a table and strapped her limbs and torso down tight. They put her head in a clamp, preventing her from looking around freely. "Stop!" She begged before they wedged a piece of rubber between her teeth. A nurse, placed small electrodes on either side of her temples. "She's ready, doctor."

Out of the corner of her eye Pumyra could see a large machine with many dials, switches and gages. The "doctor" adjusted several dials then fetched his pen and clipboard. "Don't worry. We'll uncover those repressed memories and make you well again. This won't hurt." He lied. "Let's begin." With that, he pulled a large lever.

Pumyra's body trembled in the restraints as white hot electricity shot through the top of her head through her spine and to throughout the rest of her body. Her eyes burst open then clench shut then the burning, stinging sensation subsided.

"How do you feel?"

Pumyra groaned in response, tears trickling down the sides of her cheeks.

"Very good. Once again." The doctor pulled the large lever again, sending a higher voltage.

The pain brought Pumyra elsewhere…

Thundera; years ago. Inside a humble peasant home...

Pumyra, in her adult body again sat at a kitchen table. She didn't recognize the décor. Or did she? A feeling of déjà vu crept in as she slowly soaked in her new surroundings.

A tea kettle whistled.

"I still don't have a warm feeling about you joining the Thunderguard." A woman who looked like a middle-aged version of herself walked over from the stove and poured her a cup of tea. "At least I talked you out of trying out for the Lionesses."

"The kingdom always need field medics." Pumyra replied naturally. She was about to take a sip, but froze. Who is this woman? Have I had this conversation before? "Will you visit me at Cat's lair during training?"

"When I can." The older puma assured her. "Your father would roll in his grave if he knew I was letting our only kitten run off to become a soldier, but he would feel proud while he rolled." She smiled, taking a seat across from her. "Maybe one of the princes will notice you around the lair grounds and ask you to be their princess."

Pumyra rolled her eyes. "They will never notice me. You just told a fairytale, mom." Mom? Was she really-?

"Don't sell yourself short. You're just as pretty as any noble's daughter" Her mother shook a finger at her. "Tygra is more of a cat and cuter, but Lion-O is the heir. Shoot for him."

Pumyra shrugged. "I think Lion-O is cute."

A chib chib carcass dropped out of nowhere and slammed on the table. Pumyra snapped back to reality as she sprung upright. A chib chib carcass with an axe wound in her side lay in front of her. She saw Kaynar standing over Brindle with a foggy look in his eye. "What are you doing?"

Brindle opened one eye, noticed Kaynar hovering over her like a zombie. She screamed, kicking him in the shin. "I told you STOP DOING THAT!" She pulled herself to her feet. "How long have you been standing there?"

"The rain stopped." Kaynar informed them lacking his usual energy in his voice. He pulled out a knife knelt down, started to skin the carcass and cut off the "good" meat. "Which one of you bitches feels like cooking? I'm starving."

Pumyra was too lost in thought to really pay attention to either of them. She sat hunched over, running her claws through her mane, trying to massage away a pounding migraine. She made an inward vow to become an insomniac. These dreams were beginning to drive her mad.

Her thoughts cleared after a moment or so. She realized she was still naked and scrambled for her clothes.

Kaynar caught a quick glance of Pumyra's bare breasts and smiled. "Well well, what kind of party did you two have without me?"

"Shut up." Pumyra snapped, adjusting her belt.

"Aren't we perky this morning." Kaynar grinned.

"I've had my fill of crazy for one journey."

"It's not over yet, kitty kitty."

Pumyra sighed. "Of course it isn't."