Steele's Storm

Captured

Blinding light, screams, and then a giant metal cage fell from the sky. It contorted in odd angles and then opened it's giant door and chased after him with an angry screeching sound that terrified him. Aside from the screams that had originally startled the three gathered clans, no one did anything to try and stop cages. No one tried to help him or protect him or tell him what to do, they just scattered, a few of the older Screer able to melt into their kinra and bolt, abandoning the ones who hadn't achieved the ascension yet.

And he was terrified.

The metal cage was big enough to hold at least two Screer. It flew after him at a pace that made his muscles burn and his heart pound tenfold. He didn't know what controlled the cage or how it was flying at him without wings or anything to propel it forward. He didn't like the idea of it catching up to him and shutting him inside its metal interior. He didn't want to be taken and yet he was running out of ground to run. The giant trees of the jungle were looming quickly overhead and if he slipped inside, the Jungle Screer would most certainly be tossing him right into the cage's metal jaws. They protected their own, not him.

The young male Sceer felt his body start to slow. He'd traveled much further than he thought possible and the angry screeching was getting louder. His lungs were burning and each breath he took felt like knives to his chest. His throat was dry and he felt dizzy on his feet. He didn't even have a name yet! In too moons time he'd be celebrating becoming an adult with a giant feast and a naming ceremony, but now . . . It was either the cage or the jungle and even if he managed to slip into the trees unnoticed, they would find him eventually and tear him apart.

Coming to a stop, he turned to look at the quickly approaching metal cage, the Screer snarled at it, a last ditch effort to hopefully show that he was not to be messed with. His tail was fluffed out and his body was tense and tight. He narrowed his eyes and put his arms up in a defensive posture. Maybe if it thought he was a Jungle, it would leave him alone. He was so close to the trees and he knew the cages never went after the Jungles or the Tundras. The horror stories that had been spread around the clans and the unsolved cases of young Savannah's getting snatched up by magical cages had only been observed going after his kind. Maybe he could fool it, maybe -

He took in as deep of a breath as his ragged lungs would let him and roared as the cage got within five feet of him, but the sound lacked all of the conviction of a Jungle's and he ended up coughing when the sound died out, his throat feeling like it was closing up on him. His whole body was shaking, his original adrenaline surge dropping back into normal levels and the Screer sagged to the ground, defeated. He wasn't even an adult yet. He couldn't . . . Where had Mother gone? Where had the clan gone? Why hadn't they stood up for him and protected him? Why . . .

The cage inched closer, quiet now that he wasn't running. He'd never see them again. He'd never know his sister's names. He'd never watch them grow. He wouldn't even know his own name. The cage landed on the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust that spurred on another coughing fit. It had shook the ground he sat on the moment it dropped from the sky and if the exhaustion hadn't already worn him down, the ground shaking would have toppled him.

A long metal pole slowing extended from the inside of the cage and he realized that it wasn't a normal cage, but an illusion. This close up and he could see that through the metal bars was nothing but darkness. The pole extended from that darkness with long finger-like claws that reached for him. He couldn't run anymore. He could barely even move. His vision was blurry. He didn't like giving up, but what other choice did he have?

Cool metal wrapped around his body and the Screer finally let the tears fall as terror planted into his stomach. He didn't make a sound though or sob openly like he wanted to, not wanting whoever was watching through the darkness to think he was a child. If he was being taken, he would go as an adult. Which meant he needed a name. The metal clamped onto his skin as it lifted him from the ground and pulled him quickly into the darkness. The door of the cage swung shut with a resounding boom and he was shrouded in darkness.

A small stab at the back of his neck made his mind go hazy, but he fought the sleep that tried to subdue him. He wanted his name to reflect that he had tried to get away and then had tried to be strong. He had tried to stand up for himself when all of his instincts were telling him to submit to the whims of whatever was chasing him. He wasn't weak and whatever he faced in the future would most assuredly be difficult, but he wouldn't be weak. And then it clicked.

Steele.

His name would be Steele.