The sun was high in the sky, and Cillian was crouched low in the grass, well rested after a night in the dilapidated cabin and not feeling confident in the slightest. He could see four of the cats in the distance, which seemed like an awful lot. These ones didn’t look like the other one. They were fat and healthy, with sleek black fur, grooming lazily in the bright noon sun, which was solidifying his suspicions that the other one he had seen was an outcast. This far from the city, birds sang, insects buzzed, and small animals moved in the undergrowth. He had even seen a few deer, who had looked at him with lazy, bored interest, clearly not seeing him as a threat.

Bipeds had not been here in a long time, apparently.

He wanted to find that damned cat and feed it again, the longer he looked at these cats, two of which were now wrestling in the grass. Though, upon closer inspection, he could see a fifth in the tree they were all congregating under.

“I think there’s too many for me,” he whispered to Julius, who was standing there and lazily adjusting his cufflinks.

“No, you have it,” Julius said and Cillian’s head whipped around.

“They are the size of a small truck.”

“A sedan at the most,” Julius corrected and brought his hands back down. “Go on. The best thing you can do is get them to circle you.”

“I have one skill I can use and it takes over half of my mana to do it,” Cillian hissed and promptly plopped down in the grass stubbornly. “Wouldn’t it be better for me to get one alone and memorize the attack patterns?”

“No, you have it,” Julius replied and stared across the plain at the five cats. “They only have three attacks. Tail slash, bite, and swipe.”

“And pounce,” Cillian pointed out and Julius stared at him.

“And pounce,” he agreed and tilted his head. “As long as you’re fast enough to avoid them, you’ll be fine.”

“But I’m not fast enough.”

“Each kill levels you up twice at your level,” Julius said and Cillian abruptly got back on his feet.

“I’ll do it,” he said immediately and Julius hummed.

“Remember your bonus objective. Kill one with the hatchet and the other with your bare hands and then just run.”

“You think I can outrun three of those things?”

“Yes,” Julius said flatly.

“Why?” Cillian demanded and Julius stared at him.

“If you can outrun the bugs, you can outrun the cats. The bugs were significantly faster.”

“Really?” Cillian felt like he was running through molasses last time.

“Really,” Julius assured him.

“... What did you get from the tree?” Cillian asked curiously, and Julius stared at him.

“None of your concern,” he said coldly, and Cillian’s brows went up.

“Okay, then…” he muttered and turned his attention back to the cats in the sun. Another had joined the first in the tree, which left three of them on the ground. Julius had spent the entire morning showing him how to throw the hatchet, but if he threw it, he would have to abandon it, and that was his only weapon---

A cat perked up its head, nostrils flaring in the wind, and Cillian froze as he registered his hair parting in the back from a gust.

… Shit.

He was downwind.

Cillian didn’t think about it. He just leapt to his feet and took off in the opposite direction, pumping his legs with all the force in his body.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, he had been so confident. He had really been confident. Learning a few things from Julius had made him feel a bit more secure, but no, no, no. Nope, nope, fuck this, fuck this entirely---

“Cillian, just what do you think you’re doing?”

Julius’s quiet, angry voice came right in his ear, and Cillian barely managed to turn his scream into a squeak.

“I’m downwind!” he protested as he dared a glance over his shoulder. Yep. A cat was running after him. Now two, three. The other two were still in the tree, watching in mild interest, and Cillian proceeded to run faster.

“If you don’t turn around and fight them right now---”

“I was a vegan, okay!” Cillian screeched, which was a complete lie. “I don’t like killing animals!”

“Are you serious right now?” Julius hissed as Cillian hit the treeline.

“Completely!” Cillian swore, like the liar he was.

“I saw you eat the fish!”

“I’m very flexible!”

“Then flexibly fight those cats so we can beat this level!”

“No!”

“Stop being a coward, turn around, and fight those cats!”

“I will not!” Cillian declared as he leapt over a log and sprinted past a startled deer.

“Cillian!”

“Julius!”

“Why are you like this?” Julius growled, and the pitch of it had Cillian so shocked he promptly tripped over a particularly large weed and landed flat on his face.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

He’d always thought gender envy was going to kill him, but he didn’t think it would be like this.

There was a loud, scratchy yowl, and the cat behind him pounced. Cillian rolled over and stared with wide eyes, the black beast descending on him at both the speed of light and slow motion, and his mouth opened, only for another black blur to hit the other cat head on.

Bony ribs. Pronounced hips. A broken fang. Rotting gums, missing teeth, and scraggly white whiskers.

It was the cat from before, and now it was perched over him protectively, loudly growling at the three circling cats.

“... Huh. I should have fed that thing,” Julius said, like that was going to help the situation, and Cillian struggled to his feet, hatchet gripped tightly in his hand.

… Well, fuck.

Now he had to fight.