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Henry pressed his paws into the soft dirt and felt his claws automatically extend at the slight pressure. He relished the pleasant pull of muscles and tendons stretching themselves to their very limits to ease his nerves. He was prepared for this fight. He had chosen it and his first companion in as long as he could remember gladly.
There was much work to be done, despite his best efforts to quell the vampire bats’ rebellion against the set order of things. They, like all of the other hunters, were allotted their share of prey. As such, they were, by jungle mandate of King Harold, the Elephant King, to seek food, shelter, and mates like all of the animals living under King Harold’s rule. But in the passing months, these basic comforts of life did not seem to be enough to satisfy the bats.
Their ravenous appetites had all but drained the zebra stock to nothingness. Antelopes of every size were growing far and few with each new day as many of the herds ran for shelter in whichever direction held the fewest bats. Even then, the antelopes didn’t get far. The vampire bats descended upon them with a speed and in staggering numbers that Henry had never seen the likes of before. Their wanton feedings seemed to have given them an advantage Henry hadn’t thought to consider previously; they had found a way to breed faster.
Henry knew that under normal circumstances, their breeding cycles usually occurred every six months, as the available food sources allowed. Even with twice a year spawns, their colonies had never gained the power to block out the moonlight. As their numbers rose, the bats first turned on their hunters, the owls, the falcons, and the hawks that regulated their numbers. Then, came the small game that their pursuers left behind in their demise. As the weeks passed, the vampire bats slaughtered their way up the food chain, quickly spreading death and confusion further than any of their predecessors.
Henry shook his mane out of his eyes and lightly tossed his head back, making sure that his glasses were in place upon his head. It wouldn’t do to lose the best advantage he had against the bats. Although his glasses appeared average, they were everything but. His beloved darkened spectacles lent him the ability to pick out the bats at any range during the shadowiest of nights that hid their furry bodies or the brightest of sunrises that lit the bats’ trip home to their caves.
“I. . . I’ll attack! Not scared?” Abraham stuttered to Henry’s right around the handle of his sharpened axe he held clinched between his teeth
Henry placidly glanced from the mangled bodies seeping blood into the ground at Abraham’s hooves up to the blood dripping from the blade of his axe.
“Not at all,” Henry replied without thought or hesitation.
There was a reason that he chose Abraham to fight by his side in this direst of campaigns to save them all. He could see the purpose of Abraham’s existence shining from his hooves to his elongated neck all the way down to the tip of his stubby tail. It was his destiny to fight tyranny, and it was Henry’s job to see it done.
Taking a deep breath, Henry let loose a mighty roar and bound forward into the underbrush. They had bats to hunt this night.
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They shook the blood from their coats as they ran in pursuit of the remaining bats that turned in midair to fly away in retreat. It wouldn’t do them any good to let any survivors escape to share the news of the pair of them working together with their growing colony. Surprise and their quick wits were their best allies at the present, but even he and Abraham’s strengths would be overrun should the stragglers make it back to their stronghold to call down the full weight of the horde upon them.
Deftly snatching bats from the air and between tree branches, Henry chomped down on fragile wings and warm bodies alike. All the while, he thanked whichever gods he could think of that vampire blood was not poisonous or the key to spreading their disease. To his right, Abraham crashed through trees and underbrush, mindless of plants and insects he crushed beneath his hooves as he swung his axe through the air. Severed wings, snouts, and torsos free-fell to the ground in his wake.
Henry allowed himself the briefest moment to admire the unyielding force that was Abraham in battle, before he turned back to his own prey.
All at once, the tree line ended and they burst out into the open. Abraham gave a truly impressive sweep of his neck and tossed his axe through the air, neatly cleaving the last two bats into halves. Henry roared his approval and slammed his paws on the ground while Abraham galloped a victory lap around the clearing.
Hidden within the noise of their celebration, were the pounding of hooves that did not belong to Abraham. Henry barely caught the concealed sounds of approach on the wind as he turned to face these new assailants. He was met with a sight long thought to be a myth by most. Forming a tightening circle around them were the famed Hippoi Athanatoi, the fire-breathing horses of the gods, that Henry had only known before as a whisper from a lost ancient history.
Abraham abruptly stopped mid-gallop and slid to a halt beside Henry. Instinctively, he looked for his trusty axe and saw it lying helplessly outside the confines of the horses’ circle. Henry’s eyes watched the crush of guilt and the flutter of fear that stole their way into Abraham’s eyes.
They were good, but even Henry could not be sure that they were this good.
He didn’t have long to ponder their survival before the formless strands of a plan to fight their way free were dispelled by a familiar cackle Henry would know anywhere. Stepping towards them between the legs of the horses was one Jack Barts, who was all beaver teeth, treacherous heart, and stinking lies.
Henry had personally visited Jack’s dam to make certain where his loyalties lie on command of King Harold himself when the bats’ rebellion first began to gain momentum. The lying rodent had sworn his loyalty to King Harold and that of his sovereign’s kingdom until death. Apparently, death was a lot shorter than it used to be.
“Hold my neck,” Abraham whispered resolutely as he knelt down beside Henry.
Wasting no time, Henry bound up Abraham’s flank to clutch the smooth neck of his friend. He readied his claws and watched as the horses moved ever closer. He couldn’t see the way out of this, but he hoped like hell that their luck would hold.
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(Pretty much depends on if the wonderful DavyPark draws anymore from her animal!Abery series.)