We're Called Halfies

Hair Dyes

Howell and I were back in my tent, with me having dragged him away from Reese and the fight that was surely going to occur between them. The hate was palpable between them.

“I’ll have you know that you greatly insulted the council”

Howell rolled his eyes “The Council, or you? I saw the daggers you were sending my way when I first laughed, or when I kept laughing! Besides, do I look like I care? You’re all a bunch of freaks anyway, trying to play civilised. Nothing you do or say means anything to me”

I breathe out the frustration brewing deep in my gut.

Try not to punch him....Try not to punch him.....Resist the urge to punch....

“It was hilarious watching you trying to play human! With your council and that little bell! It was like watching a heard of animals being told to sit! Surely you couldn’t have trained them!”        

My hands curl into fists of their own accord. The written agreement I was carrying is scrunched now, and all that can be seen is the end of my signature, a very shaky conformation of the agreement between us.   

Resist the urge to punch....Try not to punch him....Try not to punch him..... Resist the urge to punch....

“Surely you couldn’t have trained them; you’re nothing but an animal. You’re all just animals. Dirty Halfies the lot of you”  

All goodwill and patience I had snapped instantaneously. Without even thinking, my claws extend through my human nails and I slapped Howell square across the face, leaving both a handprint and the unmistakeable scratching of a predatory cat. My eyes shifted the second my claws did and my fangs shot through my human gums. If my ears were not human, I know for a fact that they would be flattened against my skull. Blood was trickling from the wounds that my fangs created. My tongue shot forward, licking the blood that was seeping through. This only increased my bloodlust and anger. No one had ever made me this angry. Sheer fury caused me to slap Howell again, harder this time, so that my claws dug in hard to his skin, causing him real pain.

My voice came out low and guttural. There was nothing human left in my voice. The anger and blood rage made it sound foreign and catlike when I spoke my next words: “Listen here you stupid, arrogant prick. I saved you from that hospital, from a life in one of their labs. I also promised and bound myself to you to help you find and extract revenge. All I asked of you was you help in finding my pair bond and friend. I never asked for your opinion on our blood purity or DNA. Because I don’t rightly care. Your superior attitude is wasted on me and my tribe, because we’ve done far more than your prissy ass has ever done. If you say anything, anything else about Halfies, I will tattoo you a Brand across your face and throw you into a Protectors’ academy myself, Are we fucking clear? You say nothing; I won’t have to kill you.”

With that I threw the agreement on the ground at his feet, throwing the curtain to the side as I stormed out.

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I stayed away for hours. I couldn’t face Howell without wanting to punch him in the face. I walked down the mountain pass and strolled through the forest, punching trees randomly to relieve the festering anger. It didn’t work, and only served to scratch my knuckles, bruising and causing blood to seep through the wounds. Exhausted, I reach up to the lowest branch and haul myself up. I continue to climb until I’m as high up that I can sit both comfortably and act as a sentry. I told Ragamuffin that I’d be down the mountain guarding for the night and tasked him with watching over Howell. I’ve no doubt that Howell is laughing is ass off at the fact I’ve sent over a ten year old to watch him for the night, but that is the least of my concerns right now.