A few exchanges later and the wolf had Zavier pinned to the ground, Zavier's arms straight and shaking. He held the chain between them and had it pressed into the back of the wolf's jaws. He knew he was losing the battle of strength they were in and his hand wasn't in position to properly aim his gauntlet. Zavier's mind ran but no good option came to him. The stinking breath gusted heavy and wet onto his face and the teeth strained closer even as the chain cut into the sides of the wolf's mouth. It gave a satisfied growl as it inched minutely further down, barely an inch from ripping into Zavier's face.
There was an impact and the weight of the wolf was unexpectedly gone. The wolf had rolled into the bushes in a tumble, but even that noise had stopped. Zavier heard its growl and turned the light that direction but couldn't see anything. Then a yip of surprise was followed by a cacophony of branches being broken, flesh being rent, and pain being howled. It reached a crescendo then suddenly stopped. The forest seemed to hold its breath before the soft noises of insects started up again in an unspoken sigh. Zavier saw large streams of energy flow into him and his chain.
He focused intently on the dark where the wolf had disappeared. Whatever it was that killed the wolf was probably coming for him next and he didn't know if he was ready for that. Two eyes reflected the chain's light but paused just before stepping into the pool of light. Zavier felt, more than heard, a vibrating that sounded familiar but was too big for him to place properly. Like something that he knew well but that was in a place so foreign that it took a minute to recognize what it was. Then it hit him.
He heard purring.
He took a tentative step forward and held the light over his head instead of pointing it directly at the eyes. A lean face the color of dark chocolate with eyes that looked like bright blue marbles of cracked glass came into view and Zavier's brain stuttered in almost recognition. His mouth worked before his brain fully caught up.
"Maisy?"
Maisy watched the fights with interest. She'd seen him walk into the woods and decided to follow him. What he was doing was dangerous but necessary. This was the way of kittens - they moved too quickly into danger and often didn't make it back out, but they needed that experience. Her biggest kitten wasn't particularly strong or fast for his type, but he always seemed to make it out okay. For cats, if you can't be fast you have to be smart. If you can't be smart, you have to be tough. This one seemed tough enough, if a bit timid at times.
She followed him and watched his fights, not intervening unless absolutely necessary. Kittens needed to fight to learn to win or to flee. This one was too dumb to run away after realizing something was stronger than him, so it needed to learn to fight. She'd let him and would only step in if he pushed too far. This, too, was the way of kittens. The ones who didn't run didn't know when to quit.
She took the throat of the wolf in satisfaction. These weren't the toughest challenges out here but they were great practice. He'd done well and had the measure of it now, if he learned his lessons he might even be able to kill it next time. She might have to teach him though. That tail he created with the glowing light - he added a claw to it, which was good and right, but he didn't know how to properly use it. He swung it around like he was trying to scare the wolf away, but didn't attack with it like a predator should. A kitten's life was short if it didn't learn how to go from play fighting to the real thing, and she liked her little family of kittens. She would turn them all into predators, starting with this one.
She paused before the light, understanding that he was practically blind. Once he could see her she sat and held a leg up, cleaning it ritually. It didn't need to be cleaned, her new fur stayed soft and clean no matter what she did now, with even blood and entrails sliding off it effortlessly, but she wanted to make it clear that they were in no danger and she was no threat. She paused mid-lick to stare at him, making sure to get the point across for her little dummy. You are safe. Stop. Compose yourself. He seemed to get the clue and sat cross-legged on the ground in front her. Humans didn't clean themselves, the dirty creatures that they are, but he demonstrated his faith in her and his peaceful intent by closing his eyes while facing her. That was a sign of trust she'd been trying to teach him for many years so she was glad he finally picked up the lesson.
His shock finally wore away and Zavier realized what he was looking at - the cat that always hung around his house. The family had unofficially adopted her, even though she resisted all attempts at becoming an indoor cat. She was content to live outdoors, appearing whenever she heard the garage door open. Zavier kept a cat bowl full of kibble and a furry pillow she used as a bed. She'd sleep in comfort or sit next to his chair, purring at his petting, until he stood up to close the door. Then she'd sprint outside just as the door started to close.
Only she'd never been the size of a cheetah before. She sat and started cleaning herself, pausing once to look at him pointedly. He couldn't be sure but he felt strongly that there was an intelligence behind those eyes that hadn't been there before. Or maybe it had and her eyes had been too small for him to notice. Either way, he got the distinct impression that she was telling him to take a moment and recover. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing that has happened since The System, he thought and sat with a shrug. As soon as he did she started cleaning herself again.
He took a moment to examine her and whistled softly when he saw that she had risen to level eight already. "You've been busy, Chica," he said, then closed his eyes and focused on his screens.
The screens were quickly becoming minor to him, so accustomed was he to diving into the deeper data. The first thing he did was check his health and was content that he was still above 80%. He concentrated on his injuries and could see that The System coded them differently than his healthy flesh and that the data for them may be able to be manipulated, but he didn't want to risk that. He might end up giving himself cancer or making the wounds much worse. "That's something for later," he said to himself.
He turned his focus towards his connection with the pen and could see strong connections there. By bonding with it he was able to get a much stronger sense for what it could do and it was evident to him that it was like an open programming screen just waiting for him to input commands. At the same time it seemed to have a lot of autonomous functions that were beyond him. One part of the code had an intrinsic feel to it that he felt just on the verge of grasping. He formulated a mental desire to understand it better and suddenly he was filled with knowledge of that aspect.
Skill Archiver (Not unlocked)
The pen can archive skills or abilities that Zavier learns or encounters. How many skills it can retain is dependent on Zavier's intelligence and memory. Skill creation is not automatic and can fail if the pattern is drawn incorrectly.
** WARNING ** Incorrectly drawn skills can lead to unpredictable and damaging results
Current skill capacity: 1
Current skills stored: None
** Would you like to unlock Skill Archiver? Energy requirements must be met for activation. **
"Oh hell yeah," Zavier said and immediately turned it on. All of the energy flooded out of the chain. It must not have been enough because he felt the energy in his body begin to siphon into the pen and watched his experience tick down by an appreciable amount. Before he could regret his decision the transfer was over and the skill opened up in his mind.
** Would you like to store a skill? Error: No skills available to this user. **