We're Called Halfies

So Breakfast is......Rabbit Food.

Sorry Guys, Kinda a long AN so just look for "~~~~" if you'd like to skip, but please read :)

150! yayayayayayyayayayay I'm so happy! Thank you everyone who read this, making 150 possible!

On an unrelated note, Felixia's Animal component is revealed! Exicited?! I hope so. I tried to weave it into the story seamlessly, but as always this kinda thing is awkward to put into a stroy. But that being said and done, it's in there!

Also!

Three new characters! before you read what their halfie component is, try and guess. comment on what you think it is :D

So Like, Comment, Favourite and vote!

As Always, thanks for reading

Cheers  M xx

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Wiping away tears, I pull down my pyjama’s sleeve until it reaches my wrist, hiding the throwing knife.  Judging by the shadows playing across the camp, it’s around eight in the morning. I wearily pat the knives around my thighs and along my body, yawning as I do so.  It’s rather early for me, but I need to get up and moving before I end up having a catnap. If I fall asleep now, I’d more or less sleep through to next year. And I need to be up and alert for anything.

The Dining hall is dead at this time of the morning. Generally, nine is when everyone’s in for breakfast, so at eight in the morning, there’s only a few early birds (and a couple of nocturnal ANA’s) up. Breakfast is generally just a trail mix with water, with the occasion piece of fresh fruit.

Horrible, but until I source some kind of meat, I’m stuck with this rabbit food.      

With a bowl of almonds, walnuts and other dried fruits and an apple, I walk up to my usual table – the one currently occupied by Ragamuffin, Reese, BloodRose and Leona.  The four people I wholeheartedly trust.  They range in ages so vastly (ten to twenty-five) but we all get along so well that I feel as though I’ve known them all my life. They sit in age-respective positions, almost if they’d planned it, but I know they’d never do anything so....organised. I swear to god they’re about as organised as a frog in a dessert.

Reese’s low voice breaks the comfortable silence that’d fallen over our group when I sat down.

“Why so gloomy, Catface?” Giggles and smirks descend over the group with what is apparently my new nickname. A small smile graces my face. This is an appalling new nickname that i hope i can stamp out ASAP. Before it sticks. Like Fishface. Or Whiskers.

Whiskers lasted for six months and unfortunately, it’s never r-e-a-l-l-y left.   

“Um....y’know Reese.... just the usual....just...bad sleep...bad dreams.”  The smiles drop off everyone’s face as soon as ‘bad dreams’ is mentioned. My nightmares are not secrets within the tribe, but they’re treated almost as a separate entity from me. I’m not ashamed of the nightmares I have, but the fact I wake everyone up does make me feel horribly guilty in the morning when I walk through the camp.

“Babe, We’re here for you...”Leona grabs my hand and clasps it with a strength I’ve never really become accustomed to. While my Jaguar DNA is strong, it’s more based in the subtle strike department, compared to Leona’s brute force.

This show of strength or sneaking is not unusual for ANAs. Our animal part sort of....bleeds...into the human aspect. Leona’s strong and fierce, like a lion. Bloodrose is fast and sturdy, cool, calm and collected. Horselike in every aspect.  Reese is sharp and agile, ruthless and bloodthirsty like the great white shark he shares DNA with. Ragamuffin is fidgety, bouncing with energy and easily excitable. His Hare DNA is extremely apparent.            

But it’s their varying DNA and personality that makes them among my most favourite people in the entire world. Our differences make us better friends and stronger teammates. We’ve been fighting together for almost a year and in that time; well...I trust them with my life.

So when Melancholy, our (Normie) person on the inside comes running from his position at the Borders right up to our table and starts to babble, we’re all alert and ready for the news.  

After five minutes of calming him down, we finally get an answer to his erratic and frightening behaviour.

The Protectors are organising.

They’re coming for us.

They saw me escape yesterday.

They’ve been organising a total wipe out of our tribe all night.

We’ve got less than half an hour to pack, move and hide before they hide us.

Or....We could fight.  

Neutralise the threat before it appears at the camp.

Judging by the weapons in my friends’ hands, the Protectors’ fates are already decided.  

A fight. This'll be fun, stretching my muscles. Ripping apart stupid Protectors who think They can try and attack our camp.

This will be fun.

Thank Christ.

I don’t have to eat rabbit food now.