Claws

Competition

APOLLO

Sleeping through the car ride after Luka and I got off together was an easy feat. My dreams were filled with running face-first into weave poles, smacking into tire jumps, and colliding with my master as we ran the course together.
     In other renditions of my dream, the course's floor was lava that slowly burned up my body bit by bit until I was just a head rolling through obstacles.
      Then, of course, I ran the course completely naked, watching in horror as camera flashes captured my nudity on film.
It was only when I awoke that I was granted reprieve from my nightmares.
     At the gasp I let out upon waking, my human hummed "You good back there, hun?"
    "Yeah" I groaned, "Just a bad dream."
    "Pre-run jitters?" He asked.
    "Yes." I confirmed, then added, "I'm hungry. Do we have any food?"
    "There's downtown-style sausage in a little cooler in my bag. Please don't make a mess." My master revealed.
     With great speed, I tore into the bag and immediately found the aforementioned cooler. Popping the lid open, I found links of human sausage.
     "Like a gentleman!" The human warned me right as my protracted claws made contact with the delectable meal.
     A mighty huff left my body. Patiently dissecting the meat that was still in the container came next. I picked up one sausage out of the dozen-sausage link and took a bite, melting when it touched my tongue. It wasn't as good as eating living people, but it was delicious nonetheless.
     My mind wander to my latest kill on the hotel roof in Veridian as I ate. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend I was taking chunks out of my prey and eating like a lionheart really should— not downing sausage links made by who knows who in the back of an SUV while dressed in spandex.
     I ate sausages and pretended to feast until my body told me to stop with an aching stomach. Half of the links were left in the cooler when I snapped the lid closed and zipped the duffel bag back up.
     A quick glance at the vehicle's GPS system told me that there was just half an hour left in the trip. If my nightmares and belly ache were any indicator, my nerves were starting to get their grimy little hands on me.
The next thirty minutes passed incredibly slowly. With each passing second, the vice grip of anxiety gradually tightened. Tighter and tighter, until just five minutes before our arrival, I couldn't breathe. Breath was being choked out of me by an invisible belt synching ever-more tightly around me. Gasping for air that couldn't quite enter my lungs was all I could do to survive.
"Apollo?" Luka asked cautiously at first, then with more gusto, "Apollo?!"
For the second time in six hours, we pulled onto the highway's shoulder. Luka put the car in park and hopped out the driver's side door, making his way to the trunk as quickly as his little legs could carry him.
With a tiny press of a button, the trunk opened far too slowly, until all at once I was face to face with my human. Wordlessly, he hugged me even tighter than the invisible belt.
My master shushed me. Beige hands ran through my hair and patted my back. Every appendage I had was pulled as closely to my body as I could get them.
Feathers jumbled up, skin sweating, and breathing quick, I didn't respond when Luka commanded "Look at me!"
When a few seconds passed with no dice, he took my jaw in his hands and forced me to comply.
"Hey!" He said, "A few competitions do not need to take this much out of you. It's just a run around an agility course. You can do it, Apollo!"
An unsure whimper was my response.
"You've ran agility courses thousands of times. All that's different now is you're wearing spandex." He asserted, "I promise, there's nothing to be afraid of."
Pep talks were not my thing. Instead, I buried my head in his shoulder and let the anxiety leech out of me bit by bit in the form of tiny, almost inaudible whines.
"That's it, there you go, hun." Luka cooed as my breathing began to slow, "You're okay. I've got you."
"I don't feel good." I groaned. Something was coming up.
Not a second too soon, I stuck my head out of the trunk, losing my lunch in the process.
"Gross, gross." Luka sounded like he might get sick too.
A ginger hand was placed on my back between my wings, rubbing in little circles while it's owner faced away from the vomit on the ground.
"I'm sorry," my human apologized with thinly-veiled disgust, "I'm a sympathetic vomiter."
To Luka's credit, he was able to stick around and not follow my lead. My master reached into his duffle back to retrieve a bottle of water. It was opened and gifted to me. Taking the water into my mouth, swishing it around, and spitting it onto the ground was my course of action.
     Luka unfolded my tail feathers and stroked the now-ruffled barbs. The human tugged on them lightly as he pet, grounding me in reality to help prevent me from spiraling further into my abyss of anxiety.
     "I promise that you will be okay. You'll show those other birds who's boss, hun."
     I desperately wanted to believe him. Once again, I found myself burying my head in his chest and just breathing in the scent of lilacs.
     "Let's get back to it, okay?" Luka hummed after a few more minutes, "We're almost there. It's just up the road now."
     Looking around for the first time in hours, I realized we were yet again in the middle of nowhere. Cornfields surrounded us left and right, and in the entire time we had sat with the trunk open, not a soul had passed us on the deserted stretch of single-lane road.
     "Okay." I resolved with a sigh, "Let's do this."
     My body pulled itself back into the trunk. Luka hopped out, closing the trunk behind him, and I was enclosed in the vehicle once more. Seconds later, my human joined me back in the SUV, taking the driver's seat and cranking the engine back to life. The car pulled out, and we were finishing the last leg of our journey.
      Not ten minutes later, we pulled off of the street into a red-clay road surrounded on either side by thick pine trees. The GPS read "Arrived", and Luka pulled out a piece of paper with scribbled directions on it. For fifteen more minutes we slowly but surely ventured down the dirt path.
     Finally, the SUV slowed to a stop in front of a red farm house. The tiny highway was out of sight. A multitude of vehicles in all shapes, sizes, and colors were parked in front of the building. Only one thing was in common between the four dozen or so sedans, trucks, and SUVs: heavily tinted windows.
     My master parked our vehicle among the others and got out of the car to retrieve me. During the few-second walk to the back of the SUV, nerves ate me alive. I wasn't just running agility, I was competing for prize money that could save my almost-mate from a life of captivity. Claws were being nibbled between my teeth when Luka opened the trunk.
     "Aht aht!" The human corrected, and the nails whipped out of my mouth faster than the speed of sound. Luka reached past me to rummage in his duffel bag, from which he fished a familiar basket muzzle and Kevlar gloves.
     Without allowing me to protest, the muzzle was fastened over my mouth and nose, wrapping around and buckling behind my head. I was thankful for the padding around the wires; the Sanctuary's muzzles didn't have that, and the metal often bit into one's face with how tightly they were affixed.
     Next were the black, Kevlar gloves. Luka offered the open ends to me to worm my fingers into. Once they were on, he secured each with another metal buckle and tightened them to the point that escape was impossible. Somehow, my dexterity remained.
     And then we were off. The human re-zipped his duffel bag and handed it to me, which I took readily after wiggling on my camo backpack. Luka's hulking bag was significantly heavier than mine.
     "Oh, I almost forgot!" My master exclaimed, and while I was holding the duffel bag, he extracted the remote to my collar from the side compartment.
     The round remote, which hung from a blue lanyard, was placed around the human's neck.
     "Okay, good to go." He hummed.
     Buttons on the key fob simultaneously lowered the trunk and locked the SUV. With my body trembling, I followed my master to a large, decaying, red barn house. I spied agility equipment out back amidst a large clearing, but didn't dare break away from him; he was well-armed with his little remote.
     Inside the barn were hay bales, a tractor, some farm supplies, and a lot of birds and humans. I counted fifteen lionhearts and fifty-four men and women of all different shapes, sizes, and colors. Luka mingled with the other handlers, and I stuck to him like glue, preferring to stay with my master than brave the crowd.
     My human seemed preternaturally able to wiggle into conversations with others he had never met. The curly-haired man chatted with ease, never lingering on any one subject too long, and spurred interest from his newest counterparts. They politely inquired about his experience, his work, and most frequently, the shy black-and-red winged bird clinging to him.
Luka conversed with upwards of a dozen or so other humans for at least half an hour. It felt like ages before my master was patting me back, saying, "Well, I'm going to take the opportunity to run my bird before the event. Nice meeting you guys!"
Several humans spoke at once:
"Bye Dr. Fryre!"
"See you out there in few minutes."
"Good luck."
"Nice meeting you too!"
     Next thing I knew, Luka was leading me outside by a gentle grip on my left hand. The walk was short, and soon we were face to face with the most professional agility course I had ever seen, complete with the rubber matting we had at Blue Moon Ranch.
     Like we had practiced constantly for months, Luka sent me to the first obstacle with just a pointing gesture: a tire jump, my greatest nemesis. Careful eyes watched my master as he held up three fingers.
     One went down, then two, then a third, and we were both sprinting full speed ahead. Tightening wings pulled even closer to the thin jersey on my back as I reached the tire jump. With a practiced precision, I jumped, and wooshed through the rough rubber ring.
     Next up was a collection of a dozen weave poles— twice as many as I had ever weaved at once.
     Luka chanted, "Weave! Weave!" and I complied as best as I could. Managing to weave the poles was a feat I barely accomplished. Steadying myself after the dizzying experience, however, was much more difficult, and I slipped while climbing an A frame. I clamored up the barrier on my hands and knees.
That's a penalty.
     Finally catching myself as I reached the downward slope, I tried to dig my toe claws into the slick material to find purchase. All I accomplished was putting holes in my tennis shoes.
Next came a giant tunnel. That part was easy— all I had to do was avoid running into its fabric walls. The tunnel's curving path lead me back out into the bright world, and in front of a long jump.
Ever-tighter, my wings clung to my back for dear life. With Luka guiding me, I jumped as far as a I possibly could, just barely clearing a pit of foam blocks.
Then, a tightrope. My least favorite obstacle. Advancement slowed to a crawl and I outstretched my now-cramped wings for balance. Whatever I did, I made sure not to flap them— that was a penalty. Coming to the end of the impossibly-long tightrope, a sigh of relief left me as my feet touched solid ground.
More weave poles. This time, only five. The kicker was a tire jump immediately after them, which I found I had far too little momentum to launch myself through. Regardless, I tried, and ended up losing a covert feather in the process as the rugged rubber ate at my body.
Last, but certainly not least, my master pointed me to a jumping obstacle I had never seen before. A foam pit with thin pillars poking up in a zig-zag pattern. Rather slowly, I hopped my way across. I was at the last slick pillar when I slipped. Flailing arms and wings caught the air to keep me from tumbling forwards.
"Penalty!" Luka cried out from my left.
"Why don't we have one of those at the ranch?" I grumbled while finally crossing the finish line.
"I don't know." The human answered honestly, "I've never seen one of those before."
"Let's go again." I pushed.
"No can do hun, only one practice run per bird." Luka hummed regretfully, "I'm sure you'll do great anyways."
The next hour passed with every other handler team from the barn making their ways through the course. I watched both perfect and nearly-perfect runs with chewed claws between my fangs.
"Aht aht!" Luka corrected, and the worried hands found their way to my sides.
Too soon, the long-awaited competition started.
A nearly-bald, short-and-stout human male dressed in a burgundy suit and black tie addressed the crowd, talking into a speakerphone, "Ladies and gentleman, thank you all so much for meeting here today to see some exquisite lionheart running our state-of-the-art agility course!"
The crowd roared, whistled, and clapped for the announcer.
"First on the ring is Darius Westman and his lionheart, Bug!" He welcomed.
A lithe, androgynous lionheart, brown-winged with pale skin and short hair, entered the ring. The bird followed a brown-skinned, large, male human with a shining bald head. Both wore red and yellow uniforms— the bird's was revealing enough to remind me that I was in rut, while their master's was far more decent.
The human's attire comprised of above-the-knee shorts with a thin tank top— all skin-tight. A questioning glance was sent in my master's direction, where he wore a track suit.
"It's optional." Luka whispered flatly.
Upon noticing my raised eyebrows, he said with more spunk, "What? I'm not wearing one of those!"
Our exchange was interrupted by the announcer.
"On your marks,"
The racing pair stiffened at their places on the starting line.
"Get set,"
They exchanged a ready smirk.
"GO!"
Bug was off like a rocket, the crowd cheering and chanting for them.
I watched as the streamlined bird cleared the tire jump with no problems. They darted in and out of weave poles like a border collie. Experienced footfalls climbed and descended the A-frame as if the ten-foot obstacle were a single stair. Bug disappeared into the tunnel and reappeared barely a second later.
At the long jump, Bug pushed themself from the ground with all of their strength. One foot landed soundly on the mat at other side, and another fell into the foam pit.
"Penalty!" The announcer yelled.
Darius screamed at his bird, "Keep going, Bug! You got this!"
Bug crawled frantically from the pit. A quick, full-body shake, and they were sprinting again. The much-more-experienced bird quite literally ran across the tightrope, wings tight against their body.
How did they do that?!
A familiar whoosh sounded out as the bird dove effortlessly through the next tire jump. Bug weaved in and out of poles indescribably quickly. Then, with one foot per pillar, they cleared the pillar jumps faster than I imagined possible.
Just like that, Bug and Darius crossed the finish line. A pause, and the entire crowd was silent.
The announcer yelled, "One minute, sixteen seconds!"
Bug embraced their master and was spun around in the air. A loving kiss was planted on the bird's cheek, and the pair made their way back into the crowd, Bug still suspended in their master's arms.
Four more birds ran, all significantly slower. Peyton and Las Vegas, Nikolai and Peppermint, Lashawn and Bullet, Karina and Ajax.
Then, far too soon, Luka and Apollo.
"Take your shoes off. There's no rules against it." Luka commanded.
Kicking my hole-y shoes off at the starting line, I nervously took my place. Many strange looks were cast my way, including from the announcer, but I kept my gaze focused on Luka to retain my mettle.
"On your marks,"
We stiffened our bodies.
"Get set,"
I sent an anxious look to my master.
"GO!"
My feet exploded off the starting line.
"Weave!" Luka directed, and like I never had before, I snaked in and out of the poles. The plastic bars wobbled as I cleared them effortlessly.
The A-frame was next. Toe claws dug into the material, scratching and scraping and digging for purchase that was thankfully found. I pushed my way up and slid my way down the obstacle with practiced ease.
The sun went dark and rustling nylon brushed against my partially-extended wings as I sprinted through the curving tunnel.
Wings pressed skin-tight against my back as I catapulted over the precarious long jump, both feet landing securely on the other side.
Much more carefully than any other obstacle, I slowed to a crawl over the tightrope, but managed to make it over the thick rope without floundering or procuring a penalty.
Five weave poles were a piece of cake. Taking notes from Bug, I dove through the immediately following tire jump instead of launching myself, and found my body tumbling to the other side haphazardly.
Then, of course, the pillar jumps.
"You can do this, Apollo!" Luka screamed to me over the noise of the crowd, "Jump! Jump!"
One hop, and both feet landed on the first pillar. Another small, testing jump, and the second was secured. On the third leap, I slipped. A single powerful flap of my wings kept me from falling into the foam-block abyss.
     "Penalty!" The announced shouted far too loudly through his speakerphone.
     "Keep going!" My master demanded sharply, and I complied without hesitation.
One last jump!
     A singular careful hop, and I was finally able to catapult myself back onto the safety of the rubber mat. Several more running steps and I was over the finish line.
     Not a moment later I collided with my master, embracing the tiny human so hard that his back cracked in several places. Luka's eyes about popped out of his head. Several amused chuckles were heard from the crowd.
    "One minute, twenty seconds!" The announcer said through his speakerphone, and the crowd roared.
We both melded back into the mass of humans and birds just like the previous competitors. The rest of the event passed much quicker now that my frayed nerves were calmed.
"And the winners are:" the in-charge human announced, and every member of the audience was at the edge of their seats.
"Candy, first place, with a time of one minute and thirteen seconds!"
Hardy cheers erupted from the mass of humans and lionhearts.
"Bug, second place, with a time of one minute and sixteen seconds!"
I watched as Bug revived a well-earned hug from his master.
"Apollo, third place, with a time of one minute and twenty seconds!"
My jaw dropped. "I placed!" I whisper-shouted to Luka, "I can't believe I placed!"
"You'll do even better on your second run." My master squeezed my right hand and placed a chaste kiss on my temple.
Luka was right— my second run was perfect. I made the course in one minute and sixteen seconds, placing second, earning my master and I both bronze and silver medals.
     By the end of the second competition, I was exhausted, starving, and horny. Luka begrudgingly decided that instead of lingering to mingle, it was probably a good idea to remove his increasingly agitated lionheart from the premises.
     As soon as we reached the car, wandering hands caught my waist and pulled me in for a hug from behind.
     "You were such a good boy today, Apollo." Luka purred into my ear, nipping it as he went. "I have a special treat for you!"
     Even dead tired, I was still in rut.
"Oh yeah?" I literally purred back. Black and red feathers began to ruffle up.
     "Woah, not like that." My master chuckled and released me from his grasp, "I brought a heart for you to eat!"
     Half disappointed and half delighted, I laid my feathers and listened as my stomach growled loudly.
     The trunk opened with a beeeeep via a key fob, and Luka commanded, "Load up!"
     Clamoring quickly into the trunk space, I waited impatiently for my meal. Luka set down his loaded duffel bag next to me and retrieved an insulated lunchbox from deep within. Claws protracted and fangs out, the lunchbox was handed to me, and I reached for the meaty prize inside.
     Luka watched with a scientist's fascination as I tore into the chewy, maroon muscle. For a few bites I chose to rip and tear meat straight from the organ with my fangs. After my initial fervor died down just a tad, I resorted to slicing and scooping chunks of food with sharpened claws and placing the bites of deliciousness gingerly on my already-bloodied tongue.
      While fangs chewed on a huge mouthful of flesh, my master hummed curiously, "This never gets old to watch. It's amazing that creatures like you were tamed by humans."
     "You're telling me?" I laughed half-heartedly through a mouthful of muscle, "I could be out in the wild hunting humans, and instead one has me collared and running agility courses, while feeding me a chilled heart in the back of his SUV."
     "Would you rather be in the wild?" Luka's kind voice asked genuinely.
     A moment passed as I pondered his question. After a few seconds of silence, I answered, "I don't think so. I think you make it worth it."
A bright smile lit up my master's face at the response. His beige hand came up to ruffle my hair.
    Finishing the meal with a gulp, I was politely handed several wet wipes to clean the gore rimming my mouth and soaking my hands.
     How civilized.
Luka presented a plastic bag for me to dispose of the wipes in. A little toss, and they were gone, the flimsy bag tied up neatly and placed in my master's luggage.
Gently, wordlessly, the trunk was closed, and Luka made his way to the front seat. The engine turned over and the SUV roared to life. Just like that, we were on our way back to our newest home, Blue Moon Ranch.