The Wolf and the Cat

10---ten---10

"It's not working," Patrick pouts, gripping Pete's forearms as he puts pressure on the broken bone.

"We've tried everything," Pete sighs. "You're just going to have to wait for it to heal."

"I don't want to sit in the tree tomorrow," Patrick whines. "Yesterday was enough."

"I'm sorry."

"Can't I stay in here?" Patricks hops to the bed, assisted by Pete. "It's been a few days without any incident."

"It's not as safe. We don't know what they're planning."

"How do you know it was them?" Patrick frowns. "Maybe it was some random people who thought the place was abandoned and ransacked it."

"Unlikely," Pete frowns.

"Not impossible!"

"They know where I am. The fact that they haven't done anything scares me more. You're staying in the tree. You're safe there."

Patrick pouts. "I hate that stupid thing."

"You said it was warm."

"That doesn't make me hate it any less," Patrick narrows his eyes.

"It'll only be for a little longer, alright?" Pete promises.  "We'll work with your foot and try to speed up the healing process."

It's the best Pete can offer him, but it still doesn't sit right with Patrick. But arguing will only make Pete upset, so he nods slowly in agreement.

"You're a bright orange cat who's managed to live alone for years," Pete plops next to him, resting a hand on Patrick's knee. "Sitting in a tree for an hour is the easiest thing you've done."

Patrick leans against Pete's side. "You better not take an hour."

Pete smirks. "Talk back and I make it two."

"Asshole."

~~~

"Go back out," Brendon demands.

"He wasn't there yesterday, they probably heard us."

"Or he didn't hunt yesterday," Ryan frowns.

"Ryan's right," Brendon nods. "Don't be such an idiot, Dallon."

Dallon scoffs, but Brendon points a finger to the treeline. "Get your ass out there and look."

Dallon doesn't want to. He's tired of taking orders. But if he doesn't, he's not getting housed or protected. Brendon controls everything down to the morsels of food going into everyone's mouth. If Dallon dares disobey, he'll go hungry tonight.

So he crouches beneath the branches and climbs the bushes until he's on the main trail. From memory, he finds the tree and peeks inside.

Unlike yesterday, there's a kitty cat in there. Orange. Big eyes. Tiny frame. He meows loudly, sinking back further into his hiding spot.

Dallon offers a weak smile, standing and brushing the dirt from his knees.  He struggles back over to the betas, who look at him expectantly.

"So?" Ryan asks. "Was he there?"

"Yeah," Dallon admits. "The orange cat was there."

"Perfect!" Brendon cries, rushing in the direction Dallon just came from.

Ryan scrambles behind him, and Dallon groans knowing he's got to do the same.

"Watch your mouth, Weekes," Ryan warns. "It's a fucking privilege being here with us."