Over That Gate - A Lams AU Fanfiction

Chapter 1 - Felans

Shouts echoed throughout alleyways, feet stomping in rhythmic patterns as they stormed forward. One pair of feet, however, ran much faster than the others. Old, scuffed up sneakers sprinted through the puddles of rain as it crashed down on the city. Heavy panting came from the owner of the shoes, skidding to a partial stop as he whipped around ninety degrees to the right, bolting in the opposite direction of the fading footsteps. Cold, slender hands scaled a ladder in record time, in complete silence from how light the scrawny body was. The yelling and shouting faded off into the distance, and a heavy sigh could be heard through panicked panting.

A balcony. Covered in cold raindrops but nevertheless a safe place to rest. An almost silhouette of a man was calming his breaths in order to not be caught by the owner of the balcony in which he was rested upon. His hands reached up and pulled down a hood, scooting under the short awning just enough to be sheltered from the pouring rain. His face was revealed under the cloudy colored blue sky. An almost golden lidded eye, a bright amber and yellow color, the other a bright sky blue, both searching for an answer as to where his location was. Matted, damp tangled hair stuck onto his forehead, brown strands of hair pointing every which way. His lips were plump yet small in width, a pink color flushing over them, with a hint of blue-ish purple from the temperature that day. A light goatee rested upon his chin, not too thick to where you couldn't see the skin under it, but just about that level of long. The eyebrows were just the same as his facial hair, only shaped a little better.

His head jerked to the left when he heard the shouting reappear, responding by leaping to the bottom of the balcony, laying on his stomach and going completely silent. Slowing his breathing, calming his senses. The mob of angry hunters with large loaded shotguns ran under the balcony, down the street and out of sight once more. He swung his head behind him, allowing a certain bone and muscle to begin moving voluntarily. Covered in thick, white drenched fur was a tail, the body part swaying back and forth in an agitated manner. An unsettling trill was released from his throat as he took a few steps forward on all fours, in almost a laggy manner, like a lioness hunting her food in the tall grass. Two tall ears, coated in a white luscious fur, lifted into view. They looked almost dog-like from the height of them, however his breed of cat that he was born with was a Turkish Angora, so they were perfect size for his particular breed.

His ears flickered a few times, angling forward as he trilled, turning his head to peek over to the other wall, watching people in the distance walk the streets to the market. His stomach growled, arms wrapping around it with a groan and grumble from his stomach. "I know.. We're going to get some food now, just relax." The man spoke out, looking down at his stomach. His rough, nasally voice pouring through his mouth, sounding as if it came out of his nostrils. He looked up, watching as a marketer walked away from their stand. Now was the Felan's chance. He either took this risk, or starved another foodless night.

Crawling over to the ladder, he gripped the sides of it and slid down as if it were a vertical slide. The moment he let go of the ladder and planted on his feet, slender hands reached up to his hoodie of his trench coat, pulling it over his head. Ears folded down to be hidden, buried beneath the hoodie and some strands of matted hair. He grabbed the middle of his tail and tucked it between the back of his pants, voluntarily curling it between his legs so it was hidden entirely from passersby. A deep, shuddering breath escaped from the Felan's lips as he began to strut his way into town. He mimicked the moves of other people walking by, memorizing the way their feet scattered about the crowded street. He was raised alone since he was a child, so he never had anyone to teach him anything much. So, he used the townspeople as a guide to teach him to be normal. Well, as normal as one Felan could be, that is.

The marketer was now chatting about with a stranger, which seemed like the long lost friend kind of conversation. Lucky for him, those conversations last long. He snuck into the food court, searching for the empty food stand the marketer had left unguarded. Once he spotted it, his pupils dilated in a way that you'd think a snake would, elliptical almost. They were thin, like small strands of hair. His intense focus was what caused this to happen. His discolored eyes darted around, searching for a way to grab what was on the stand. All different kinds of fruit. Apples, Oranges, watermelons. Watermelons. That's too big. Oranges would cause him to need water, in which he would have to follow a long process to find, collect, and boil to make sure it was safe to drink. Apples, however. Those were healthy, filling and juicy. His mouth drooled as he made his way to the stand. The loud bickering filling the air around the street made it so he didn't have to be exactly silent, only quiet enough to sneak a few apples.

The stand now stood right before him, the heavy scent of the honeycrisp apples lingering around his nose. Nose twitching with anticipation, he opened a flap of his coat and revealed three large pockets. He crept around the stand, planting his feet into the ground behind it and sneakily reaching a hand over, grabbing two apples and whisking them into two of the pockets. He went to reach for another when he heard a loud shout, and a gunshot.

The fur on his tail ruffled up, ducking under the stand and searching for a hole in the wood to grab a third apple from. Another gunshot to his direction. He decided to screw the plan, quickly snatching up a third apple, shoving it into his mouth, gripping it with his teeth and booking it. At some point in running, he had ended up on all fours, bolting down the street and dodging the kicks and swats he received from women's purses and sharp pointed heels. Several more gunshots were fired, thankfully he disappeared before the last gunshot heard could be fired into his direction. He flung behind a building, slinking into an alley and hiding behind a dumpster. His heart pumped out of his chest, like a drumroll. Pump, pump, pump. It wasn't as though this was his first time doing it, or the most dangerous thing he'd done before. However, each time his body was forced to find food, the same exciting thrill coursed through his veins as he ran from more people every other day. Shouts echoed through the streets, bellowing out for the Felan to reveal himself. However, he bit down harder on the apple in his mouth, silencing himself entirely.

The scattering footsteps faded after what felt like an eternity of a minute, and the cat-like boy pulled the apple out of his mouth, pulling off the large bite he held between his teeth. He chewed slowly, relishing the juicy aftertaste of each bite, enjoying the disgusting scenery around him. It was awful, but safe. Therefore, he loved it. A heavy wind brushed past the alley crashing into each wall that formed it. Papers scattered in every direction as the wind panicked on which way to go. A vividly familiar paper flew straight onto the Felan's face, disturbing his delightful meal. He groaned, pulling it off and checking to see what it was.

A black border lined a small portrait rectangle inside the paper, with a drawing of a man inside of it. The photo was an angry looking man, a wide grimace coloring his lips, eyebrows furrowed furiously. Red, beady eyes with elliptical pupils, and large, furry cat ears, one tip on the left one bitten off in a bloody example. "That looks nothing like me! God, my nose is huge, and do I really look that angry?" The Felan chuckled at the horrible attempt of the sketch that was supposedly himself, setting the paper down and releasing it into the wind. As it blasted off into the sky once more, the paper managed to hit a wall, the tips of it flapping furiously as the wind pushed it against the stone.

In wide, bold letters labeled:

WANTED : DEAD OR ALIVE

Alexander Hamilton, Felan and Devil of the Town

Reward: 10,000$

{Word Count: 1,480}