“Let me go, you can’t be serious,” you scoff, yanking your body away. “It isn’t me that you should be bothering for money, so bugger off.”
His expression darkens and you are suddenly afraid that you have said something terribly wrong. Ducking under his outstretched arm as he stands as immobile as a statue, you fling yourself back into the grey daylight. Why didn’t he stop you? You don’t care as you work your way through the mass of furry bodies, stray fright stirring your hooves. If that host has the gall to turn you into a half-unicorn thing...why would he not have the balls to kill you too? Maybe it makes for good ratings in this world? Panting heavily, you are sure that the whites of your eyes are showing. A quick look back shows that not only the wolf is on your tail, but the fox is too. Predators like those like to tease their prey before they catch it. You’ve seen it on wildlife documentaries.
Your surroundings take a turn for the worse. Cars with no wheels are parked at the side of the road, rust lingering where window frames are supposed to be. Of course, there is no glass in the car windows, but shards of it litter the pavement so that you have to leap over entire sections in order to not cut yourself. You don’t trust those hooves to keep you safe. Somewhere to your right in a cluster of dilapidated flats (six windows high), there is a gunshot that makes you leap like a grasshopper, skidding as you land. Who was that? Are they firing at you? No, the shot was too far away, but you are in a very dangerous area, more dangerous than ever before. Even worse, the dogs from the club scene have joined up with the fox and wolf duo, howling like banshees on the heels of their prey.
Hide, you have to find somewhere to hind, you tell yourself, a stitch shooting through your right side. You are not fit to go on like this and the yelps of the dogs are far too close to slow down. Where can you hide though? In a place like this, is there anyway safe? There are some odd shops around, though nowhere inviting enough to duck into. You doubt that anyone would protect you from the lewd pack.
“Slow up, dah-ling!” One canine yells, cupping his paws to his snout. “We ain’t gonna do nuthing to ya, just slow up for us now.”
Written by Amethyst Mare on 15 July 2013
The end (for now)