Instinct - Chapter 1

My claws scratch against broken pavement, my whitening pelt blending in with the newly fallen snow. There it is. My head whips around before I even think. Underneath the bush, I hear the rustling of a mouse digging. Already, I stalk behind, following the scent of it with an unrivalled determination. I might have the Mustelids’ first piece of prey in days, though a mouse isn’t really going to feed anyone.

Beneath the low ceiling of the tunnel, I flatten my body against the loose dirt. Again, I hear the mouse snuffling through whatever moss it’s digging in. Maybe it’s got a nest.

A bit of guilt pricks at my pelt. I’ve learned never to kill a mother with babies. The old books — any that I can get my paws on — they’ve taught me a number of things.

I turn right and see the mouse, digging himself under a pile of moss, woven together clumsily. Woven? Crap. Quickly, I begin to back away. But… I look back and around the corner. I need that food. Nobody would know if it’s a human-mouse, right? I sneak in, and finally sigh from being able to raise my head.

“What the f-” The mouse whips his head up through the wad of bedding. His eyes widen in terror, and he crouches down so that his only his nose shows. “I’m human! Get the away!”

I stop in my tracks, and dig my paws in the soft dirt. “I’m — I’m sorry.” I look down at my stomach.

“Then get out of here, weasel,” he spits.

Angrily, my fear begins to bristle. “You’re in Mustelid territory. What’d you expect to happen? Get back to the Murids!”

“I expected you to follow the laws-”

I can’t help but scoff, and hold my head high enough to touch the burrow’s ceiling. “While you live outside your own territory.”

The mouse sticks his head out completely. “And what’re you going to do about it?”

I crunch my legs, preparing for the lightest pounce. What’s a mouse doing, telling me what to do? I eat these things whenever I find one! I don’t know if it’s hunger or just plain indignation, but I leap towards him and snap my jaws right above his head.

He leaps from the moss, angrily glaring at me from below. “You want me to leave, alright?” His voice trembles in fear.

I glare the mouse down half-heartedly. I’ve read about kings from the past, and even though I could never be one, I’ve read about what they’ve done to keep their lands. I’ll do the same if I have to.

“Fine.” He lifts his middle finger to give me the bird. Even then, I can’t help but crack a toothy grin at it.

Lashing my tail as the mouse leaves, my stomach gives a hearty growl. I wonder how everyone else back at camp is doing. Probably just as crappy as I am.

Well, maybe the kids would want some moss to fill their teddies. I roll the wad of moss into a ball and lift it in my jaws.

With a plod, I run out down the dilapidated streets, in the direction of the camp.

***

I sigh as I reach camp, leaping through the tires of a rusted vehicle. When I reach the middle of the half-destroyed cul de sac, I drop the wad of bedding on the floor.

As I slump onto the ground, dirt tired from trekking half-way across the Mustelid territory, I hear the lumbering footsteps of Nevula, the leader of the Mustelids. “Any luck, Ferris?”

I perk my ears to show him that I’m listening. “Nope,”I grumble. “But I kicked a mouse off our territory.” I stand up, parting my jaws wide into a yawn.

The great brown beast stands up tall. “You what?”

“He was human, Nebula. Cool down,” I say, standing up tall.

The wolverine sighed. “Well, then at least you’re following the laws.” He looks in the general direction of the Hospit, Canid territory. “The Canids’ve been patrolling the borders, and I think they’re closing us in.”

I shuffle my claws into the snow, leaving behind paw prints that clearly show the cracked pavement. I’ve only seen the Canids a few times, and that was at the central market. Even though I never talked to one, they all seemed… fishy. But closing us in? “Bastards,” I mutter.

Nebula raises his ears to scold me, but his grin gives him away. “Lad, you’ll get yourself into trouble like that. Don’t let ‘em hear it.”

We stand in silence, with me glaring down the streets. “What does it matter to them?” I finally say, lashing my tail.

“Everything. We’ve been lucky today, but if we’re getting choked out of our territory…” He stops, digging his bear-like claws into the ground. “I don’t know what’ll happen. Probably lose everything.” He looks down at his paws, melting away the snow beneath his furry shadow.

Cocking my head curiously, I look up at Nebula. “You were saying something about lucky hunters?”

“Of course, Ferris,” he chuckles half-heartedly. “Juno found a mouse, while Magna and Arva got a rabbit burrow.”

My stomach growls, and I watch the few other Mustelids happily chomping away at the rabbits. Juno’s there too, taking tentative bites at the frozen mouse.“You don’t think I could…”

Nebula smiles, lighting up the white spots on his face. “Alright. You’re dismissed.” He nudges me by the tail, and I run down to the prey pile. “I’ll be in the Cruze,” he calls, and I hear the sound of the wolverine scratching on rusty metal.

My paw dips into a frozen puddle, and I tumble into it, coating my fur with icy water. “God Da-”

“Ferris!” someone calls. “You okay?”

Shaking my coat, my head whips up. “Course I am.” I only wish I could grow up to be human now. It’d make life so much easier. But no, I have to grow up into a six-inch-long weasel. Whoop-de-fricken-doo.

Juno rolls me over with a sigh. “I don’t know, a giant fall like that?”

I smile at her, raising my brow muscles. Time for a subject change. “You were talking about food?”

Juno sighs, stepping off me and towards the pile. She sits next to a skunk, tilting her head at the bloody mouse. “Yeah. But Draco’s not letting us cook it. Says he won’t waste the spices.”

I know what Juno means. When I was going carnivore, and even then I did it earlier, I couldn’t stand the taste of raw meat. But it was the only thing I actually could digest.

“Well, I’m sure Draco’s trying to figure what to do with the rabbits.” I glance over to the pile, where I see Arva, a badger, biting chunks of meat off of one of the larger rabbits. “Scratch that, actually.”

“If only.” With a sigh, Juno tentatively walks away towards the houses.

“Where’re you going?” I walk to the mouse and pick it up in my jaws. “Food is scarce enough these days. Don’t waste it.”

“Are you Nebula?” she asks, turning back.

Defensively, I stand up tall. “Of course not. But you need to eat.”

Juno shakes her head. “I can wait. If we’ve found enough prey today, then the otters’ll bring in fish.”

Don’t push it, Juno. “Well, where are you going?” I repeat.

She stops mid-stride, her mouth twitching. “I don’t know. Probably more hunting.”

I’ve read books where people tire themselves out to death. Well, now we grow up to be animals, but I don’t want to risk that to Juno. “Wait a moment, Juno. Rest.”

“I can do what I want,” she shot back.

I give a guttural sigh. She’s going to have to grow up. If she’d just calm down and agree that there’s nothing out there…

“Hey, Ferris!” someone shouts. I whip my head around to see a stoat-boy, Cairo.

“Yeah?” I hop towards him, my paws making little imprints in the already-melting snow.

“Can I show you something?” he asks, holding his human arm out to lift me up.

I crawl onto his hand and study his animal face. His clothes are too large for him. Funny. I started shrinking at 14, not 11. “Well, sure.” I turn back to Juno with a lash of my tail. “Juno, you coming?”

She wrinkles her nose, but crawls onto Cairo’s hand, the palm of which is already stiffening to paw pads.

He holds us close to his chest as he barrels across the camp. I curl around his arms, digging my claws into his shirt.

“How fast can you go?” I say encouragingly. Sure, Cairo's not actually going that fast, but it's always good to give a kid encouragement. Even though soon his body will shrink to our size, especially if he's just shrinking now.

"Pretty fast," he pants. Cairo skids to a stop, the momentum throwing my death grip on his shoulder away. “But, we're here.”

With a lash of my tail, I sigh. I knew that one already. We're in front of the least broken down of the houses, reserved so that the kids stay safe. It's also at the center of the cul de sac, making it the easiest to defend if we ever got attacked by the larger predators.

Cairo crouches down, holding his hands out so that Juno and I can crawl out.

“So, what do you want me to see?” I ask, curiously peeking into the open door.

“It's Lettie,” he says immediately. “Think she's going carnivore.”

I nearly choke, and with a look at Juno's wide-eyed stare, she's probably thinking the same thing. Juno's just going carnivore now, at 17. I went at 15, when I was still shrinking.

“What do you mean?” was all I could say.

Cairo scratches the black hair on his head, a small clump shedding off. “Well, she's not eating anything. And with the... lack of food...”

Juno pipes up immediately. “Well, we can cook a rabbit for her. Draco would be happy, right?”

My mouth twitches. "Draco already said he didn't want the waste of spices."

“Lettie won't care about the taste, guys. Let up.” Cairo sighs, walking into the living room, with torn up seats and misplaced, ancient cushions everywhere. Kids.

“So, we should just tell Draco-” I'm cut off by a loud, dry cough that rings through the house. How did we not hear that?

“Is that Lettie?” Juno asks slowly.

Cairo purses his darkening lips. “Yep.”

“Well, that's not going carnivore,” I breathe. I look in the direction from where the coughs were, and I see the badger girl laying over in her bed. Her back is turned to us, but I hear the ragged breathing now.

“Well, it sure as heck isn't a cold,” Juno says.

Immediately, the thought of the herbalists of the city, come close. “There's always the Canids,” I murmur. They're the animals in charge of all medicine, not to mention that they're the only ones who would actually help the mustelids. As much as I hate the Canids, they're a necessary evil.

“What? Are you kidding?” Juno says. “She'll power through this. She's a badger, for Erminea's sake.”

I wince at the words, and I see Cairo puts a hand to his face. Juno didn't know that Erminea was the goddess of death, did she?

“What if she doesn't?” I stand up tall, stepping onto a cushion to make myself look bigger, more commanding.

Juno scowls. “Well if she doesn't...” She stops, digging her claws into the dilapidated wood floor. “Alright,” she says. “Let’s go.”

Cairo and I look in the direction of the bed. “So, right now.” Cairo sprints to the old wooden door, dodging all the toys the younger kids play with.

“Wrong door!” Juno says, almost too quickly. “What would Nebula say if we took you to Canid territory?”

I look at the back door. But we should tell Nebula that Lettie’s sick, right?

It’s too late, Cairo and Juno are already slipping through the door. And then there’s only me in the kids’ house. I curl my lips in annoyance and follow them as quietly as I can.