You drag your tongue over your claws and gaze around the clearing. A pile of bones, fresh from your recent hunt, lay scattered at the far edge. You let out a quiet huff and lay your head on your paws. The light dusting of snow is bright, even under the evening sky, but it doesn't bother you. A chill wind briefly tears through the trees, sending the last of the golden-red leaves spiraling to the ground.

You watch them lazily and yawn. This had been your home for a pawful of winters now, and another one was starting. You wait a few heartbeats, then stand up and stretch. Muscles move smoothly under your black pelt, your long claws digging furrows into the frozen ground. Your shoulder twitches; an old wound, long since healed, but it likes to act up in the cold.

You step down from the fallen tree that shelters your nest and pad through the woods. The scent of deer cross you after a while, but you ignore it. You aren't hungry yet. A squirrel, probably one of the last of the season, chatters in alarm as you pass by. A bird calls loudly as you pass under a nest.

You stop and sniff at the carcass of another lynx; it had come down from the upper forest not long before. He was far smaller than you, but still…you didn't hesitate to take him down when he tried to take your territory. Eventually, as the moon reached its peak, you found yourself at the edge of the woods.

With a quick glance around, you lope across the meadow towards the lone oak. A single sheep, probably escaped from the nearby flock, cries, but you're already climbing the tree before it moves. You settle onto a wide branch and stare out over the great saltwater in the distance.

You aren't sure why you come here, but something about this place is relaxing. In summer you'll spend a few days here at a time, feeling as if you're waiting for something that never comes, but you still come here in the winter to admire the moonlight across the salty water. You close your eyes and stretch out your senses.

A nighttime bird warbles, swooping through the winter-thin grass. The heartbeat of a rabbit pierces your ear fur. A harsh cracking noise sounds as a rotten branch falls on the other side of the oak.

You shoot up at the sound of human footsteps though. With a quiet hiss, you pull yourself into the thinner branches as two humans appear over a small crest. They chatter loudly, as humans do, so the sound carrying easily. They walk quickly and you wonder how you didn't hear them sooner.

"Seriously, I refuse to believe she's dead, Beck!" a male says.

Another male responds, his voice deeper. "You sure you aren't just holding out hope, captain?"

A huff; annoyance and amusement, your mind tells you. "Come on. I can hope, but I know she's alive. Maybe she's just not here. Maybe she moved to another town." The first male sounds almost…angry? No. Not angry, you decide. Stubborn. Defiant, maybe.

"Then why'd you come here? Why not leave this town and go to another?" the second male asks. "They'd probably be a little less hostile."

There's a pause and you peer down to see them standing at the base of the tree. One male is much smaller than the other, with head fur the color of fresh blood. A golden shape hangs on his back. It's that one that speaks next. "Because maybe she left a message up in the tree. We left something up there when I was here last. Maybe she came back before she left."

He sounds almost upset, you think after a moment. You aren't sure why you can read human emotions so easily, at least compared to the other animals in the forest, but there's no denying the sad undertone in his voice. Breathing deeply, you smell something muted, reminding you of the grieving humans years ago you encountered after your escape from town. Sadness, you think, but it disappears after a moment.

The second male sighs. "Shanks, it's freezing and yer nose is running. Let's head back down to the tavern and then go."

"Cold's never bothered you before," the first male grumbles cheerfully. He hooks his strange, hairless paws into the wood of the oak and quickly climbs.

You pull your head back before he can see you. Your hackles rise slightly. He doesn't seem aggressive, not like the other humans at least, but something about him unsettles you. You ponder the strange word the other human used; Shanks. The word bounces around in your skull, losing whatever meaning it has with each echo. You dare to peek over the edge of your branch to watch him.

Shanks sits on the branch and faces the tree. His paw brushes something there and you hear a sigh before he murmurs, "Y/N…I thought you'd be here." The smell radiates from him, making your whiskers twitch.

You cock your head. That word…Y/N…it sounds even more strange yet familiar than the other word. You quietly settle yourself onto the branch and watch him. Normally you'd run, hide, do something other than sit here, but for some reason this human intrigues you.

That, and he's blocking the only safe way down. You have no desire to wrench your shoulder leaping from the oak again.

Shanks sits there for a while in silence, staring at the bark.

The other males voice drifts up. "I have no plans on freezing out here, captain. Let's head back. We can look around for Y/N tomorrow if you want."

That word again! You flex your claws but freeze as bark cracks and trickles down.

Shanks lays a hand on the bark but stays crouched. His movements still. "Hey, Beck?"

"Yeah?" the other male calls. Beck. All humans must have a specific word for them, you realize.

"You see anything in the tree?" Shanks calls down, but tilts his face up.

You pull your head back and carefully rise to your paws. Maybe you can get away without them seeing.

"No. But maybe you should come down now," Beck says. Apprehension coats his voice.

You pad backwards slowly, belly almost brushing the branch. You reach the main crook of the tree and look for a way to leave without being seen. But it's no use. The only way down is where Shanks sits.

There's a creak and you flatten your ears as a paw…no, a hand, your brain corrects you, appears on the edge of the branch you laid on. A second later, there's a quiet grunt and Shanks pulls himself onto the branch.

"Shanks?" Beck sounds annoyed now.

"Just a second!" Shanks says. His blood-red hair sticks out up here, the moonlight enough to make it blaze in the darkness. He reaches behind him and pulls the golden thing on his head. His eyes, a dark hazel, scan the darkness and stop when they meet yours.

You let out a low, drawn-out hiss.

Shanks raises one hand. "Easy there." Strangely, there's no fear scent. He doesn't even look afraid! Curious.

"What's going on?" Beck's voice is louder now and there's a scrapping noise just as he appeared behind Shanks. "Geez…never seen a lynx get that big before." His eyes, slate grey, widen as he stares at you. "Just…get down slowly."

Your tail lashes once.

Shanks gives a nod, his hand still raised. "Think this is the 'Black Lynx' the locals were talking about? The furs certainly dark enough, at least up here."

Beck snorts. "Has to be." He disappears and you hear scraping sounds until there's a thud on the ground as he lands. "Come on. I don't want to drag yer sorry carcass back to the ship. Don't think the crew would believe me if I have to tell them you got beat by a big cat."

You let out a low huff of amusement. For some odd reason, that's amusing to you.

Shanks' lips twitch into a strange position; you can see his teeth but read no hostility there. "Alright." He crawls backwards until he disappears. His eyes don't leave yours, but you sense no threat from him.

You wait until you hear footsteps on the ground and carefully pad forward. Peering down, both males have backed away a fair distance from the tree. Conscious of their eyes on you, you lithely leap down to the thick branch, then balance on a knot, then drop to the ground.

There's an intake from the larger one. Beck breathes out slowly. "Don't think I've seen a lynx that color." His eyes are wide and trained on you. He stands with his hands stuck inside his pelt.

Shanks watches you, his gaze curious. "She's bigger than we thought, too." His eyes glitter in the moonlight, yet he still doesn't seem hostile. No fear scent rolls out, not even a hint.

You bare your fangs, growling low, and slink away backwards. When there's several more feet between you and them, you turn and pelt away.

There's a low whistle, a little like a bird, and you run harder. You don't like getting close to humans. They bring nothing but trouble.

You lift your head drowsily and yawn. Peering out of your den, you blink against the sunlight. Why would you have woken this early?

Something cracks and you flatten your ears. You're not alone. Another crack. Footsteps. With a low growl, you pull yourself deeper into the shadows of your den. The entrance is covered in hanging lichen, so something would have to almost enter your den to see you. You don't like that something is sneaking around your den site. Your hackles bristle almost painfully.

"Are you sure it's around here?" a voice hisses. You almost growl as you recognize it from last night. Maybe Shanks? His voice was lighter than the other mans, Becks.

There's an irritated sigh. "Shut yer mouth. Don't want to scare her off." Beck.

There's silence, aside from the occasional footsteps.

Another voice sounds. "I know we're supposed to be quiet, but why are we hunting this lynx?" A stranger.

Beck growls; you prick one ear. You've never heard that kind of sound from a human before, not like that at least. "Because if we don't, the town will kill her. You heard them last night, Roux."

"But you aren't carrying bullets," the other voice, who must be called Roux, says. "Just tranquilizers. Why?"

Shanks speaks again, and you start at the anger in his voice. "Because we can move her somewhere safe. There's another island a few days away with no people. I don't want to see her hunted, but she can't stay here." He pauses. "What the townsfolk were planning, it's barbaric."

You press yourself into the back of your den. What were they talking about? You recognize the word bullet and shiver. Were they hunting you?

More footsteps.

You sniff and shove your ears forward. There's at least five people out there. Two are heading in your direction. One steps lightly, but isn't familiar with hiding themselves; they step on dead leaves and twigs every few steps.

The other sends your hackles rising even higher; they're a hunter.

You pause, and instinct sends you tearing out of your den before they reach it.

"There!" a voice rings out.

A muffled gunshot echoes in the woods, but you leap into a tree at the last second.

"Shit, Beck, you weren't kidding. She's huge!" an unfamiliar voice exclaims.

You drop to the ground and run through the trees as fast as you can. Another shot rings out; there's a small thunk as something hits a tree. Your paws carry you over fallen trees, leaping over the frozen stream, past the now-abandoned hive where you got stung over the summer getting honey.

There are footsteps behind you; four sets of clumsy humans and one set of a hunters tread. You growl. Hunters are the bane of your winters. Constantly trying to trap you, stealing your prey, trying to flush you out. But it's not the deep of winter yet, so why are they hunting you now?!

Paws meet ice and you almost skid as you reach the river. When had it frozen over? Bunching your legs, you leap and sail over the rest of the ice and burrow under a fallen tree. Panting heavily, you peer out through a small gap.

Five men skid to a stop on the other side of the river. Two of them you recognize; Shanks and Beck. The other three are unfamiliar. In the daylight, Shanks's hair is like blood against snow. You stare, your whiskers twitching, but flinch back as Beck's eyes meet yours.

You explode out from under the tree as he raises his gun. Another muffled shot.

"How is she this fast?" one of the unfamiliar men call.

"Maybe help then Yasopp!" Beck snarls. "Yer just a good as shot as me!"

You claw your way up a thick maple and leap to a neighboring tree. It shakes under your weight and you pause. You rarely leap through trees, especially in the forest. You're much larger than you used to be. Healthy branches have cracked under your weight before.

Running footsteps force you into action.

You leap to another tree, sending branches cascading down.

"Holy shit!" a voice calls out; Yasopp. "No wonder half the town's planning on going after her! She's hard to hit!"

You snarl and leap to the forest floor as another gunshot rings out. Digging your claws into the ground, you shoot forward and leap over an overhanging rock. Ahead of you, a waterfall sparkles in the sunlight. You spot an opening and dash behind the falls before the humans can spot you.

"Where'd she go?" Roux asks.

None of the others answer him.

You slowly squeeze yourself between the frozen falling water but are forced to a stop as a large boulder blocks the other side. Had the water been flowing, you could leap through that. But, while you know you can break through the ice, it would be more difficult to get away by forcing your way past.

Your belly hits the stone and you last your tail. You're stuck here now. If they find you here, it's all over. Flexing your ears, you strain to hear anything.

The men have spread out. Taking a deep breath, you identify Beck and Yasopp moving in different directions. Beck is moving towards the falls; you can tell where he is more by scent than sound. Shanks is close to him, but closer to you.

You carefully shuffle around as quiet as you can. Sheathing your claws, you move yourself so you're facing the way you came. A shadow extends on the rocks, slowly getting longer, as Shanks approaches.

You let out a low snarl and hiss as he peers behind the falls.

His eyes widen. "Guys."

You hiss louder as footsteps come running. Without warning, you leap for him; you have no intention of hurting him, but you won't let yourself be trapped!

He ducks. "Careful!"

Another muffled gunshot and something stings your hip. With a high-pitched whine, you land clumsily and whirl around. You snarl at the five men approaching you; three with their hands up, two with guns.

A younger man with a green and white shirt speaks. "She's a lot bigger up close." Roux.

Beck gives a curt nod. "Watch her claws. Yasopp?"

His gun bucks and there's another sting.

You shake your shoulder and try to back away. A low growl issues through your teeth. Your tail lashes.

Shanks steps forward; Beck hisses at him. "It's okay," he says to you, his voice low. He extends his hand slowly.

You blink as your vision goes fuzzy. Why is he spinning? Why are the trees moving even though there's no wind? You flatten your ears, your fur bristling in ever-slowing waves.

Yasopp lowers his gun. "Captain, you sure you want to get that close?"

Shanks, now a few steps in front of you, doesn't look away. "She won't attack. You notice how she flew over me?"

"Because you ducked!" the last man yells.

You whine and feel your legs buckle. Hissing weakly as Shanks approaches, you swipe a paw at him.

He doesn't dodge; you still miss. "Beck, have the rope ready?"

You fall to your chest. Your breaths come quickly now. Trying to stand, your legs won't support you and you fall onto your side.

Beck appears behind him; when had he moved there? A long length of something stretches between his hands, some of it looped. "Just know, if we get mauled, this is yer fault."

Shanks chuckles as your eyes close.