I've been chosen for whaaaaa?!?

Chapter 2

Chapter 2! *GASP*

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CHAPTER 2

"I hope he chooses me."

"Oh, lord. He's finally coming!"

"Who do you think he'll choose?"

"Is Rhynx scary, mama?"

I wrinkled my nose. You would think that everyone would be able to maintain at least a semblance of control? I mean, I'm just as excited as all of you, but I don't jump about or scream my head off.

True, it's a once in a lifetime chance, but don't you think Rhynx would rather choose someone more in control of themselves?

Lord, someone save my ears.

Glancing around me, I noticed Mike and some of his pesky friends hanging on the fringes of the crowd. They all had their heads bent together in a circle, and it seemed like they were discussing something. One of the Sharpclaws backed up, waving his hands around wildly, as if he were acting.

Apparently, he didn't see the tree behind him, because he bumped his furry little behind into it, and was pelted with acorns. A few years ago, we had formed an uneasy truce with the squirrels, but sometimes they still acted up. I muffled a giggle and stared.

Suddenly, Mike raised his head and looked right at me. He sneered at me, and then snickered. Even though I could only hear everything else hazily, I heard his snicker as clear as day. I bared my fangs and growled at him.

He just shrugged his shoulders and bent his head back down to join his friends. I turned my head and tried to ignore them, but I could still hear a laugh every once in a while, and one of them guffawed loudly.

My curiosity got the best of me, and trying to make my actions as small as possible, I inched toward their circle. Stepping over the grasses that covered the clearing, I accidentally tripped over a tiny root, but caught myself just in time.

Gazing around, trying to look as casual as possible, I saw Mike raise his head and glare at me suspiciously, his eyes squinting. Then he bent his head back down and said something to the others. They all snickered, and turned as one to stare at me.

Uncomfortable under their stares, I tried not the squirm, and glowered at Mike to hide the fact that my stomach was in knots. Had he given them something about my past?

God, please no.

After what seemed like an eternity, they turned away, and I sighed in relief.

Not giving up though, I continued inching toward their group until I could clearly hear what they were saying. Hiding behind some other Sharpclaws so they couldn't see me, I turned my ear in their direction (Check that. I was so not hiding. I just happened to be standing behind them. *Bats eyes innocently*)

"Rhynx...I will...chance...this time...Kat..."

Hearing him say my name with disdain, I wrinkled my nose and glared at him through the two Sharpclaws talking in front of me. They gave me startled glances and moved further away.

I hate my name. Mainly it's because we're one third dog. And if you shorten my name...it's Kat. Sounds suspiciously like cat, don't you think? Wow, lucky me. My nickname is that of our "prey".

We don't hunt them, but it's kind of in our mutated genes to hate them. The fact that they're instinctively scared of us helps too.

Even though I've been hearing my nickname for 16 years, not to mention comprehending it's meaning for at least 12 years, I still can't help but bristle at the mention of it. It's extremely annoying to hear it from anyone, much less the person I hate the most.

I was suddenly pushed on the shoulder by my best friend and nearly toppled over.

"Yowza, Katty! Why ya so down?"

Despite the adults' best attempts to change Joey's attitude and grammar(and the fact that he talks to me), he just won't change. Not that I'm complaining.

"I'm not down. What are you talking about?" I cracked a smile and softly punched him on the shoulder.

Due to the fact that there are no girls my age, I've gotten quite close with Joey. He's the only one out of the bunch who actually understands my predicament. If it weren't for him...I don't think there would be a me.

We met at the age of four, and he's been my rock ever since. He's protected me against the worst of jibes from others, and he gives me a shoulder to cry on.

If he were ever to leave our pack, I would follow him without any hesitation. He's my best and only friend, and I guess you could say that I would do pretty much anything for him.

He tsked and wagged his claw at me.

"Katty, you know we're too old for that now. You wouldn't think you could trick me, now would you?"

Smiling, I said, "Of course not! You know me better than I know myself."

At this, he broke into a wide grin and playfully ruffled the fur at the top of my head using his wing.

"Cut that out!" I dodged his wing and complained, "Just because you're two years older than me doesn't mean you can treat me like I'm one of your little brothers!" I swung my claw at him in mock anger.

He stuck his tongue out at me and patted my shoulders.

"I'm so scared!" Swooning, he pretended to faint, then abruptly cowered down in mock fear, "Please don't kill me. I promise I'll be good!"

Righting himself, he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "The ceremony is about to start, and I suggest you don't make such a big fuss or else..." He turned his head and gazed around the crowd. Turning his head back toward me, he said, "...you might not make it out alive."

Then he sauntered off, leaving me hissing in annoyance. Glancing around, I saw that other Sharpclaws were indeed glaring at me in anger. Giving them an apologetic smile, I headed toward the middle of the crowd. Suddenly, Michael darted out in front of me.

Sidestepping, I tried to avoid him, but unfortunately, he wouldn't let it go.

"Kat, what's the matter? Are you gonna play scaredy-Kat now?" He sneered.

I know he was trying to rile me up, but I wouldn't take the bait. Snickering, I said, " Hey, Michael. It seems as if you're as brown as always. Been playing in the dirt all day?"

He glanced down at himself and his face colored. His once-black wings were ruffled and a dirty brown color, his fur was matted and covered in grime, and his claws were muddy to the point that you couldn't see through the dirt.

Wiping some dirt off his claws, he scowled at me and walked off.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd, and it was so silent you could hear a pin drop. A gust of cold wind blew over the crowd, and a few of the Sharpclaws around me shivered.

We turned our heads as one to stare in west, where the wind had come from.

Another pack had arrived.